Dawn broke with a heavy sky, the clouds grey and pregnant with snow. Li Wei stood by the corral, watching the breath of the animals rise in white plumes.
The King was restless. He sensed the change in the air. The smell of the cow in heat—the customer from yesterday—still lingered in his nostrils.
"Easy," Li Wei murmured, running a brush down the bull's flank. It was a simple tool, a stiff bristle brush he'd traded a copper for, but the effect was profound. The King leaned into the rhythm, his eyes half-closing. Grooming wasn't just about hygiene; it was about dominance and care. It reinforced the bond between man and beast.
"Boss," Zhao Feng called out, walking up the hill with a yoke over his shoulders. Two large buckets of water sloshed with every step. "The blacksmith is here. He's early."
Li Wei looked down the slope. A burly man was leading a yellow cow up the path. The cow was decent—broad hips, decent legs—but she looked skittish. She stopped at the gate, balking at the scent of the bull and the unfamiliar surroundings.
"Open the gate," Li Wei ordered. "And bring the King to the breeding pen."
They had spent the previous evening building a specific pen—a narrow chute with sturdy walls. It was designed to hold the female cow still, preventing her from thrashing and injuring herself or the bull. In this era, breeding was often a chaotic, dangerous free-for-all in open fields. Li Wei was introducing industrial safety standards.
The blacksmith, a man named Old Liu, wiped his hands on his apron. "Boy, is this... necessary? My cow is gentle. She doesn't need a trap."
"It's not a trap," Li Wei said, vaulting the fence. "It's for *his* safety as much as hers. If she kicks him during the act, he could be ruined. And if he's ruined, you don't get strong calves."
He walked over to the cow. She rolled her eyes, trying to back up.
Li Wei didn't grab her. He simply stood in her blind spot, at her shoulder, and tapped her hindquarter with a stick.
"Walk," he said.
The cow, feeling the pressure but not pain, stepped forward. He guided her into the chute. Zhao Feng slid the bar behind her, locking her in place. She couldn't move forward or back, only stand.
"Release the King," Li Wei said.
Zhao Feng opened the gate. The bull trotted out, his head high. He didn't charge like a madman; he circled the pen once, snorting, sizing up the situation. He approached the cow from the rear.
The cow tensed, trying to kick, but the sides of the chute blocked her legs.
"Mount!" Li Wei commanded, tapping the bull's flank.
The King mounted. It was quick, efficient, and powerful.
Old Liu watched, his mouth slightly open. He had bred cows dozens of times. Usually, it involved ropes, shouting, and the risk of a broken leg. This... this was like watching a machine work.
"Done," Li Wei said, leading the bull away before he could linger and annoy the cow.
Zhao Feng opened the chute. The cow walked out, looking slightly dazed but unharmed.
"That was..." Old Liu blinked. "Clean. Very clean."
"Science," Li Wei said, accepting the pouch of coins. "Bring her back in three days for a second round. Just to be sure. No extra charge."
Old Liu nodded, respect replacing the skepticism in his eyes. "You know your stuff, Li Wei. I'll tell my cousin. He has a pair of heifers."
As Old Liu left, the next customer arrived. And then the third.
By noon, Li Wei had secured nearly five taels of silver. The treasury was rebuilding.
But as the customers left, a new problem emerged.
The King walked over to his trough and snorted. He butted the empty wood with his horn, looking at Li Wei accusingly.
"He's hungry," Zhao Feng said. "That work builds an appetite."
"We're low on fodder," Li Wei checked the shed. The Brachiaria was growing fast, but it wasn't enough to sustain a bull and a horse on heavy work rations. They needed bulk. They needed hay.
"I'll go buy straw from the village," Li Er, the second brother, offered. "The harvest is over, everyone has stacks of it."
"Go," Li Wei nodded.
An hour later, Li Er returned empty-handed. His face was red with anger.
"What happened?"
"They won't sell," Li Er panted. "I went to three households. They all said their straw is 'reserved'. Then I saw Headman Wang's cart collecting bundles from them."
Li Wei's eyes narrowed. "He's buying up the feed."
"He's buying it for five coppers a bundle," Li Er spat. "Double the usual price. But he's telling them not to sell to us at any price. He's trying to starve us out, Wei. If the bull has no food, you have to sell him."
It was a classic siege tactic. You don't attack the fortress; you cut off the water. The Headman knew that without winter feed, a massive animal like the King was a liability, not an asset. He would starve, lose value, and Li Wei would be forced to sell him for pennies—to the Headman.
Li Wei kicked a rock, sending it skittering across the frozen ground.
"He thinks straw is the only thing cattle eat," Li Wei muttered.
He turned to look at the village fields below. They were bare, stripped clean of grain. But the harvest left behind acres of dry, withered corn stalks, bean vines, and peanut straw. The peasants usually burned these to clear the land, considering them trash.
"Zhao Feng," Li Wei turned. "Bring the cart. We don't need straw. We need trash."
"Trash?"
"The corn stalks. The bean stems. Go gather them. Pay a copper per cartload if you have to. Just bring me the dry stalks."
"Wei, cattle don't eat corn stalks," Li Dazhuang interjected. "They are hard as wood. The cows will starve."
"They will if we feed them as is," Li Wei agreed. "But we're going to cook them."
"Cook them?" The family looked at him as if he had lost his mind.
Li Wei ignored the stares. He walked to the edge of the slope where he had dug the pit for the BBQ. It was deep and lined with stones.
"We need to make *Silage*," Li Wei explained. "Well, a primitive version of it."
He directed the confused brothers to dump the load of dry, brittle corn stalks into a pile.
"Mother," Li Wei called out. "Bring me the big iron pot. And we need water. Lots of it."
He grabbed a hatchet and began chopping the stalks into small, two-inch pieces.
"We chop it, soak it in hot water with a bit of salt and bran, and then pack it tight into this pit," Li Wei instructed, his hands moving fast. "We cover it with mud and rocks. The heat and the pressure will soften the fibers. The little bit of fermentation will make it sweet. The cows will love it."
He looked at the King. "And I have a secret ingredient."
He walked to the Brachiaria patch. It had grown significantly. He harvested a section, chopped it up, and mixed it with the dry corn stalks.
"The green grass is the bait," Li Wei said. "The stalks are the belly filler. We mix them."
They spent the rest of the afternoon preparing the "trash feed." The villagers watched from below, laughing as the Li family hauled cartloads of useless dried stalks up the hill.
"Look at them! Eating garbage!"
"Li Wei has truly gone mad! Feeding wood to a bull!"
Headman Wang watched from his window, sipping tea. He chuckled. "Let him play. In a week, when that bull is skin and bones, he'll come begging."
***
Three days passed.
The King did not grow thin. In fact, his coat seemed shinier. He spent his days eating from the trough filled with the strange, fermented mixture.
The smell wafting from the pit was odd—sour and sweet—but the animals didn't mind. The calf "One" loved it, digging into the trough with gusto. Even Red Wind, the horse, took a few curious bites.
On the morning of the fourth day, Li Wei stood by the fence, watching the bull.
"He's filling out," Li Dazhuang admitted, running a hand over the King's ribs. "I don't understand it. That stalk fodder... it works."
"It's nutrition, Father," Li Wei said. "Everything has value if you know how to use it. The Headman wasted his money buying straw. We ate his garbage for free."
Just then, a rider appeared on the road below. He was wearing the livery of the Imperial Courier service. He stopped at the village entrance, checking a scroll.
"Stone Roll Village!" the courier shouted. "Where is the household of Li Wei?"
Li Wei's heart skipped a beat.
"Up here!" he shouted.
The rider spurred his horse, climbing the slope with practiced ease. He stopped in front of the fence, looking at the ranch setup with a bored expression.
"Li Wei?"
"I am he."
"You have a letter. From the County Magistrate's office."
Li Wei took the sealed scroll. He broke the wax. It was a summons.
*"Li Wei of Stone Roll Village is hereby ordered to present himself and his livestock at the County Magistrate's Yamen in three days' time. The Magistrate wishes to inspect the 'new breed' of cattle reported by the local Headman. Failure to appear will result in confiscation of assets."*
Li Wei rolled the scroll up.
"The Magistrate?" Zhao Feng asked, his voice low. "Is this bad?"
Li Wei looked at the letter. "It's Headman Wang's doing. He told the Magistrate about the bull, probably hoping the Magistrate would confiscate it for 'the public good'. He wants to use the government's hand to steal what he couldn't starve out."
He crushed the scroll in his fist.
"He made a mistake," Li Wei said, his eyes cold.
"How so?"
"He invited us to the city," Li Wei smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "In the city, there are rich people. Hungry people. And people who pay for quality."
He turned to his family.
"We're not going to hide. We're going to put on a show. Father, prepare the bull. He needs to look like a King."
The first herd was forming. And now, they were going to war.