The storm passed as quickly as it had arrived, leaving behind a world washed clean and vivid.
The morning sun broke over the eastern hills, casting long shadows across the Westland. The air was cold and sharp, smelling of wet pine and damp earth. Steam rose from the log cabin roof and the backs of the dozing cattle, misting in the golden light.
Li Shun stood outside the cabin, inhaling the crisp air. He held a steaming cup of tea, his eyes scanning the valley.
The transformation was startling. The test plot of ryegrass, having drank its fill of the rain, had exploded in growth overnight. It was no longer a thin fuzz; it was a thick, lush carpet of emerald green, swaying gently in the breeze.
**[SYSTEM ALERT]**
**[PASTURE STATUS: OPTIMAL]**
**[GRASS HEIGHT: 6 INCHES (RAPID GROWTH)]**
**[NUTRITIONAL VALUE: HIGH]**
The land was waking up. But the ranch was still running on human legs.
Li Shun turned his gaze to the corral near the tree line. The two horses—brown geldings they had bought cheap from the army reject pile—stood with their heads low, munching on the fresh hay Li Ming had gathered. They were sturdy animals, muscular but wild-eyed. The army had discarded them because they wouldn't take the bit.
*They have spirit,* Li Shun thought. *Good. Spirit means energy. I just need to direct it.*
In this era, horses were broken with force. They were tied tight, whipped into submission, and ridden until their will broke. It was effective for creating obedient warhorses, but it killed the animal's initiative. A ranch horse needed to think for itself. It needed to anticipate the cattle, to turn on a dime without waiting for a command.
Li Shun set down his cup and walked toward the smithing area he had set up near the fire pit.
---
The "Smithy" was nothing more than a flat anvil rock and a pair of bellows they had brought from the prefecture, but it was enough.
Li Shun picked up the object he had been forging the previous night. It was a crude iron stirrup—flat-bottomed and wider than the traditional Chinese triangular loops. He had spent hours hammering scrap iron into shape.
He walked over to the saddle frame lying on the workbench. It was a wooden tree, shaped from the oak they had felled for the cabin. Unlike the rigid, flat boards used in the dynasty, Li Shun had carved this one with a distinct *fork* in the front.
He took a piece of thick leather and began stretching it over the wooden frame.
"Young Master," Han Qiang's voice rumbled from behind him. The ex-soldier had just finished his patrol. "The fence on the north ridge is secure. But... what are you doing to that saddle?"
Li Shun looked up, his hands working the leather. "I'm fixing a flaw."
"A flaw?"
Li Shun pointed to the standard military saddle lying nearby. "That saddle is built for stability on a charge. High back, high front. You can't move in it. If you try to rope a cow from that, you'll be pulled right off the back of the horse."
He tapped the front of his new creation. "This... is a horn."
"Horn?"
"It looks like one, doesn't it?" Li Shun smiled. "But it's an anchor. When I rope a steer, I wrap the rope around this horn. The horse takes the weight, not my arms. It allows a single man to control a bull."
Han Qiang frowned, crossing his arms. "You wrap the rope? On a moving horse? That sounds like a good way to lose a thumb."
"It takes practice," Li Shun admitted. "But once mastered, one man can do the work of ten on foot."
He secured the leather and oiled it. "Today, Sergeant, we ride. Not as soldiers, but as herdsmen."
---
The round pen was a small enclosure, roughly twenty feet in diameter, built from thick logs.
Li Shun entered first, carrying only a long bamboo pole and a length of rope. He didn't bring a whip. He didn't bring a bit.
He chose the darker of the two geldings. The horse snorted, eyeing him with suspicion. Its muscles tensed, ready to bolt, but the pen was too small.
"Easy," Li Shun murmured.
He didn't look the horse in the eye. In the language of prey animals, a direct stare was a threat. Instead, he lowered his gaze, angling his shoulder away. He moved like water, fluid and unpredictable.
He flicked the bamboo pole gently, tapping the horse's flank.
The horse moved away from the pressure, trotting to the other side of the pen.
"Good," Li Shun said. He kept the pressure on, driving the horse in a circle.
To Han Qiang and Li Ming watching from the fence, it looked like a strange dance. Li Shun wasn't chasing the horse. He was controlling its direction with subtle shifts of his body and the pole.
"Join up," Li Shun whispered to himself.
He was looking for the signs. The ear flickering toward him. The chewing motion of the jaw. The lowering of the head.
After ten minutes of lungeing, the horse began to slow. It realized that running away wasn't working. It started to look to Li Shun for direction.
Li Shun dropped his eyes and stepped back, releasing the pressure.
The horse stopped. It let out a long breath. Then, tentatively, it took a step toward Li Shun. Then another.
"Good boy," Li Shun said, extending a hand.
The horse stretched its neck and sniffed his fingers.
Li Shun reached up and scratched the horse's withers, the spot at the base of the neck where horses groom each other.
"He's accepted you," Han Qiang said, stunned. "Without a fight. I've seen horse trainers spend days tying a horse down to achieve that."
"He was just scared," Li Shun said, sliding the rope around the horse's neck. "He needed to learn that I'm not a predator. I'm a partner."
Li Shun spent the next hour desensitizing the animal. He rubbed the saddle blanket all over the horse's body—its flanks, its belly, its legs. He flapped the leather straps against its skin until the horse stopped flinching.
Finally, he hoisted the custom-made saddle onto the horse's back.
The horse tensed, feeling the weight and the strange shape of the horned saddle. It danced sideways.
"Easy," Li Shun soothed, tightening the cinch. "It's just a seat."
He stepped back. "Han Qiang. Open the gate to the larger corral."
"Are you going to ride him? Now?"
"Life is short," Li Shun said, grabbing the saddle horn and swinging his leg over.
---
The moment his weight settled in the saddle, the horse exploded.
It wasn't a buck like in the rodeos Li Shun had watched on TV—it was a violent, twisting leap. The horse went straight up, kicking out its hind legs, then slammed down and spun.
Li Shun held on.
He gripped with his thighs, keeping his upper body loose. The horse bucked again, arching its back like a cat.
*Don't fight it,* Li Shun told himself. *Move with it.*
He kept his eyes on the horse's ears, his hands low on the reins. He didn't jerk the mouth. He didn't scream. He just sat there, a heavy, unshakeable presence.
The horse ran across the larger corral, sprinting at the fence. It stopped dead, trying to scrape Li Shun off against the rails.
Li Shun leaned forward, lifting his leg just in time, then kicked the horse forward again.
"You think the fence is scary?" Li Shun laughed, breathless. "Try chasing a two-thousand-pound bull! That's scary!"
After what felt like an eternity but was likely only ten minutes, the horse's jumps became smaller. Its breathing became ragged. It realized that the man on its back wasn't hurting it, and that stopping was rewarded with rest.
The horse slowed to a trot, then a walk. It dropped its head, blowing foam from its mouth.
Li Shun patted the horse's neck. "Whoa. Good boy. Whoa."
He brought the horse to a stop in the center of the pen.
Han Qiang and Li Ming rushed to the fence.
"Incredible," Han Qiang said, genuine awe in his voice. "You rode him out. No tie-downs. No beatings."
"He's a smart horse," Li Shun said, dismounting. His legs felt like jelly, and his back ached, but the adrenaline was pumping. "He realized fighting wasn't worth the energy."
Li Shun looked at Han Qiang. "Your turn."
---
By late afternoon, both horses were ridden out and calm.
Han Qiang had taken to the western style of riding immediately. His military background gave him an excellent seat, and he quickly understood the utility of the deeper saddle and the horn.
"This horn..." Han Qiang said, circling his horse around Li Shun. "It changes everything. I feel like I can lean into a turn without sliding off."
"Wait until you try to rope from it," Li Shun said.
He handed Han Qiang a coiled lasso. "Try the post."
Han Qiang unwound the rope. He hesitated, then swung the loop overhead. It was clumsy, but the mechanics were sound. He threw.
The loop snagged on the post.
Han Qiang immediately wrapped the rope around the saddle horn, as Li Shun had instructed. He kicked his horse forward.
The rope snapped tight. The horse leaned into the pull, and the post groaned under the leverage.
"By the heavens," Han Qiang breathed, looking at the taut line. "The horse does the pulling. A man on foot could never hold that much weight."
"With this," Li Shun said, riding up beside him, "we can catch any beast on this mountain. We can brand them, doctor them, and move them without chasing them until they drop."
He looked at the sun. "Let's put it to the test. The grass is ready. It's time to move the herd."
---
The small herd of ten cows and the sheep were currently拥挤 (crowded) in the small byre pen. They needed to graze.
Li Shun opened the gate to the test pasture—the five mu of lush ryegrass.
"Move them out," Li Shun ordered.
He and Han Qiang rode on either side of the herd. At first, the cows were hesitant, unaccustomed to horses moving so close. But instinct took over. They moved away from the pressure of the horses' bodies.
Li Shun used his horse to block a cow trying to break left. He didn't yell; he just positioned his horse in her path. She turned back.
They guided the herd into the fresh pasture.
The cows stopped, sniffing the strange, thick grass. Then, hunger took over.
They bit into the ryegrass.
The reaction was instantaneous. The cows began to tear at the grass with gusto, their tails swishing happily. Even the picky sheep was gobbling it down.
"Look at them eat," Li Ming said from the fence, watching with wide eyes. "They act like it's a feast."
"It is," Li Shun said, watching from horseback. "That grass is like candy to them. They'll gain weight faster here than anywhere else in the county."
He watched Hei Bao, who was in his separate pen nearby, watching the cows eat. The bull let out a low, jealous bellow.
"Don't worry, Hei Bao," Li Shun called. "You get the special mix tonight."
Li Shun felt a profound sense of satisfaction. The pieces were moving. The land was producing. The horses were working.
*This is it. This is the beginning.*
But even as the thought crossed his mind, a cloud of dust appeared on the road leading up from the valley.
Li Shun squinted. Riders. Four of them. They weren't merchants, and they weren't peasants.
They rode with purpose.
"Han Qiang," Li Shun said, his voice dropping. "Weapons."
Han Qiang was already reaching for the crossbow strapped to his saddle. "I see them. Not bandits. Too neat. But not soldiers either."
Li Shun rode forward to meet them, Han Qiang flanking him.
As they got closer, Li Shun recognized the leader. It wasn't a bandit. It was worse.
It was Steward Wang, the head servant of the Zhao household. And he didn't look like he was delivering leftovers.
---
Steward Wang was a thin man with a pinched face and a perpetual air of superiority. He rode a fine black mare, and behind him were three sturdy servants carrying cudgels.
He reined in his horse a few yards from the fence, looking at the log cabin with undisguised disdain.
"Li Shun," Steward Wang said, not using the honorific 'Young Master'. "I see you've built yourself a... hovel."
Li Shun sat tall in his saddle, looking down at the steward. "Steward Wang. To what do I owe the pleasure? If you're here to check the loan, the interest isn't due until winter."
Wang waved his hand dismissively. "I am not here about money. I am here on behalf of the First Lady."
*Madam Zhao?*
"My mother-in-law?" Li Shun asked. "Is something wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong," Wang said smugly. "But the First Lady is concerned about the... reputation... of the family. She has heard you are keeping company with ruffians and discharged soldiers."
He looked pointedly at Han Qiang, whose scarred face and cold glare were intimidating even on a good day.
"And she feels that the cattle you purchased with the family's money should be properly accounted for. She has sent me to assess the value of the livestock."
"Assess?"
"To ensure you haven't squandered the silver on... toys," Wang said, eyeing the lasso hanging from Li Shun's saddle. "Or that you haven't eaten the assets yourself."
Li Shun felt a flash of anger. This wasn't about accounting. This was a power play. Madam Zhao was still skeptical, and she had sent her most loyal dog to sniff out weakness.
"Fine," Li Shun said, his voice calm but icy. "You can look. But do not touch my animals. And do not step foot in my pasture."
Wang smirked. "We will see."
He dismounted and walked toward the byre. He looked at the cows, who were now relaxing in the sun after their meal.
"These are the cows?" Wang laughed. "They look old. Thin. I've seen better cattle at the slaughterhouse." He turned to the servants. "Check their teeth. See if they're worth anything."
One of the servants stepped forward, pulling a stick to pry open a cow's mouth.
The cow panicked, jerking back.
"Leave her alone," Li Shun warned from the saddle.
"We are doing an inventory," Wang snapped. "Stand aside."
The servant raised the stick again. But before he could touch the animal, a shadow fell over him.
Han Qiang had ridden his horse directly between the servant and the cow. His horse bumped the servant back.
"Master Li said... do not touch," Han Qiang rumbled. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword.
Wang's face went pale, then red with fury. "You... you dare threaten a representative of the Zhao family? This is treason to your benefactors!"
"It is protecting our property," Li Shun said, riding up. He didn't shout. He spoke with the quiet authority of a man who had just broken a wild horse. "Steward Wang, you have seen the cattle. You have seen the cabin. You have seen the land."
He gestured to the lush green pasture behind him.
"You see that grass? That is food. You see those horses? They are trained. And you see that bull in the pen?"
He pointed to Hei Bao, who was watching the commotion with restless energy.
"That is the foundation of a fortune. You tell my mother-in-law that her investment is safe. But if you try to manhandle my livestock again, I will not be responsible for what my... ruffian... does to you."
Wang glared at Li Shun, his lips trembling. He realized he had no actual power here. In the wildness of the Westland, Li Shun was the law.
"You will regret this arrogance," Wang hissed. He turned to his men. "We are leaving. I will report exactly what I saw here. A fool playing with cows and a savage with a sword."
They mounted their horses and rode off, kicking up dust.
Li Ming ran up to the fence, looking worried. "Brother, was that wise? Madam Zhao will be angry."
Li Shun watched them go. He took a deep breath.
"Let her be angry," Li Shun said. "Anger is an emotion. Respect is something else. We will earn respect."
He turned his horse back toward the pasture.
"We have work to do. The grass isn't going to eat itself."