The arrival of spring turned the Westland into a construction site.
The 350 taels of silver from the auction burned a hole in Li Shun's pocket, not because he wanted to spend it on luxury, but because he needed to turn it into infrastructure. Money sitting in a chest was useless; money turned into fence posts and saddles was power.
But before the expansion could fully begin, the ranch house had to evolve.
"You cannot be serious," Han Qiang muttered, watching the wagon unload.
It wasn't feed or tools being unloaded. It was furniture. A carved mahogany wardrobe. A vanity mirror with brass fittings. Rugs woven in the southern style. And boxes—dozens of them—filled with books, curtains, and porcelain tableware.
Zhao Lian stood directing the servants, her practical linen dress swapped for a light silk hanfu that fluttered in the breeze. She looked every inch the city lady, yet her voice carried the authority of a general.
"Careful with that! The books go in the study. The curtains need to be measured for the south window. And that wardrobe goes in the master bedroom."
"Master bedroom?" Li Ming whispered to Li Shun. "Brother, we just nailed planks together and called it a bedroom."
"We're upgrading," Li Shun said with a grin, though he felt a nervous tick in his chest. His rugged bachelor sanctuary was being invaded by civilization.
He walked up to Zhao Lian. "Wife. I thought you were bringing essentials."
She turned, a measuring tape in hand. "A lady's dignity is an essential, Husband. If I am to live here, I refuse to live like a barbarian warlord. These men," she gestured to the workers, "need structure. A clean home breeds a clean mind."
She pointed to the porch. "And you need a proper chair. That stump you've been sitting on is bad for your back."
Li Shun looked at the offending stump, then back at his wife. He bowed dramatically. "As you command, Lady of the Westland."
She hid a smile and turned back to her work.
By evening, the cabin was transformed. The rough log walls were softened by tapestries. The cold floor was covered in warm rugs. And the master bedroom now sported a bed frame with an actual mattress, rather than a pile of furs on planks.
It was the beginning of a home.
---
The next morning, Li Shun called a meeting in the newly cleared yard.
He stood before his team: Han Qiang, Old Zhang, Li Ming, Wang Da, Old Scar, and One-Ear. Beside them stood the "founding herd"—Hei Bao and the cows.
"We have money," Li Shun began. "And we have land. But we lack reach. The Southern Ridge is two hundred mu. The perimeter is miles long. We cannot guard it or manage it on foot."
He pointed to the corral where the horses stood.
"We need riders. Not just soldiers who can sit on a horse, but men who can work from the saddle. Men who can cut a steer from the herd, mend a fence at a gallop, and patrol the borders."
He looked at Han Qiang. "Sergeant, I want you to form the 'Westland Rider Corps'."
Han Qiang straightened his spine. "How many men?"
"Five new recruits. We have the funds to pay them. But I don't want random thugs. I want men with discipline. Ex-soldiers, if you can find them. Men who know how to follow orders."
"And the training?" Han Qiang asked.
"Leave that to me," Li Shun said. "I will teach them the ways of the cowboy. You will teach them tactics and discipline."
---
Recruitment took three days.
Han Qiang traveled to the provincial barracks and the darker corners of the city. He returned with five men.
They were a diverse lot.
* **Big Wu:** A giant of a man who had been a heavy infantryman. Slow on foot, but immensely strong.
* **Little Zhao:** A former scout, small and wiry, with sharp eyes.
* **The Twins, Bo and Bi:** Identical brothers who had served as archers. Silent and synchronized.
* **Old Li:** A veteran cavalryman in his forties, forced into retirement due to age, but with a seat like iron.
Li Shun lined them up. They looked rough, their armor patched and their weapons dull, but they stood straight.
"Welcome to the Westland," Li Shun addressed them. "You are not soldiers anymore. You are not guards. You are *Ranch Hands*."
He tossed a bundle of clothes to each man. Inside was a pair of canvas trousers, a sturdy cotton shirt, a leather vest, and a wide-brimmed hat.
"Put these on. No armor. No heavy sabers. You carry a lasso, a knife, and a long staff."
The men looked at the clothes skeptically. "Hats, Boss?" Big Wu rumbled. "We look like farmers."
"In the fields, a helmet rots your brain in the sun," Li Shun said. "A hat shades your eyes so you can see the cattle. Put them on."
Once dressed, they looked remarkably like the pictures Li Shun remembered from his old life. A motley crew of cowboys.
"Now," Li Shun said. "The lesson begins."
---
The training ground was the main pasture.
Li Shun rode his horse, Duke, into the center. He demonstrated the basics of Western riding—reining with one hand, neck reining, the posting trot.
"In the army, you kick the horse to go and pull the reins to stop," Li Shun explained. "Here, we use leg pressure and seat weight. We want the horse to be our partner, not our slave."
He demonstrated a roll-back—a tight turn on the hindquarters.
"Duke, turn."
The horse pivoted smoothly.
"Now, you try."
The former cavalryman, Old Li, took to it immediately. "The saddle horn... it gives leverage," he noted, gripping the "horn" Li Shun had insisted on. "I can lean into a turn without sliding."
The infantrymen, Big Wu and Little Zhao, struggled. They were used to marching, not balancing.
"You are stiff," Li Shun critiqued, watching Big Wu bounce painfully in the saddle. "Relax your thighs. Move with the animal. If you fight the horse, your back will break."
The hardest part was the lasso.
Li Shun tossed a loop around a fence post effortlessly. "The rope is an extension of your arm. It is how we catch the sick, the strays, and the troublemakers."
He handed a rope to Big Wu. "Try it."
The big man swung the rope and let go. The loop flew sideways and tangled around his own horse's ears. The horse snorted and bucked.
"Damn it!" Big Wu shouted, fighting for control.
Han Qiang watched from the fence, chuckling. "We have a long way to go, Boss."
"We have time," Li Shun said. "The calves won't need branding for another month. By then, they will be able to hold a rope without hanging themselves."
---
While the men trained, Li Shun turned his attention to the horses.
The horses they had were decent—sturdy Mongolian mixes—but they lacked the explosive acceleration and "cow sense" of the American Quarter Horse.
He went to the system interface.
**[BREEDING LAB: LEVEL 1]**
**[CURRENT STOCK: MONGOLIAN MIX CAVALRY REMOUNTS]**
**[AVAILABLE UPGRADE PATHS:]**
* **Path A: Arabian (Endurance/Speed)**
* **Path B: Quarter Horse (Sprint/Agility/Cow Sense)**
*Select Path B,* Li Shun thought immediately.
**[PROCESSING...]**
**[REQUIREMENTS:]**
* Select a Sire and Dam with compatible traits.
* Nutritional Supplement: High-Protein Oats + 1 Vitality Elixir (Minor).
*I have the elixir.* Li Shun looked at his horse, Duke. He was the strongest of the bunch.
"Looks like you're getting a promotion, Duke."
Li Shun spent the afternoon selecting a mare—a feisty, quick-footed horse named 'Red'. He fed them both the specialized oats mixed with the minor vitality supplement.
**[BREEDING INITIATED]**
**[GESTATION PERIOD: 11 MONTHS (SYSTEM ACCELERATED: 6 MONTHS)]**
**[EXPECTED TRAITS: LOW CENTER OF GRAVITY, EXPLOSIVE START, HIGH INTELLIGENCE.]**
It would take time, but soon, the Westland would have its own breed of working cow horses.
---
A week later, the Southern Ridge was ready for its final transformation.
The thorns were cleared. The earth was turned. The fence posts stood like sentinels along the perimeter.
Li Shun rode along the ridge, inspecting the work. The view was breathtaking. The valley below was a patchwork of green and brown, the river glinting like silver.
He stopped at the highest point. This was where he planned to build the second windmill.
"Han Qiang," he said into his radio (a magical communication talisman provided by the system for Ranch Level 6). "How does the view look from the north?"
"Clear, Boss," Han Qiang's voice crackled. "The trainees are finally staying in their saddles. We spotted a wild boar near the perimeter, but the Twins chased it off."
"Good. Keep patrolling."
Li Shun dismounted and pulled a handful of seeds from his pouch. He scattered them on the wind.
"Grow," he whispered.
**[SYSTEM TERRAIN UPDATE]**
**[SOUTHERN RIDGE STATUS: CLEARED]**
**[SEEDING: 20% COMPLETE]**
It was slow, steady work. But as he looked down at the ranch—the cabin with the smoke rising, the cattle grazing, the riders patrolling—he felt a profound sense of accomplishment.
This wasn't just a business. It was a civilization in the making.
---
That evening, as the sun set, Li Shun sat on the porch with Zhao Lian.
She was sipping tea, reading a ledger by the light of a lantern. The "cowboy" hat she had mocked earlier was now resting on her own head, tilted back to keep the light out of her eyes.
"The new men are loud," she commented, marking a page. "But they eat everything we serve them. The kitchen supplies will need to be doubled."
"We have the funds," Li Shun said, leaning back in his new chair. It was surprisingly comfortable.
"Li Shun," she said, looking up. "Do you ever miss it? The city? The poetry? The... softness?"
Li Shun looked at her. He thought about his old life—the fluorescent lights, the spreadsheets, the loneliness. Then he looked at the mud on his boots and the calluses on his hands.
"No," he said honestly. "I felt like a ghost in the city. Here... I feel solid. I feel like I'm building something that will last longer than me."
He reached over and took her hand. "And having you here... it makes the rough edges smoother."
She squeezed his hand back. "It is... refreshing. To see a man build rather than scheme."
She stood up, stretching. "Come. Dinner is ready. And I had the cook try that 'chili' recipe you talked about. The one with the beef."
Li Shun's stomach growled. "Chili con Carne? You have no idea how much I've missed that."
As they walked inside, the Westland Riders were finishing their meal at the outdoor table, laughing and swapping stories. The smell of woodsmoke and spices filled the air.
**[RANCH LEVEL: 6 (PROGRESS: 15%)]**
**[POPULATION: 12 HUMANS / 35 CATTLE / 10 HORSES / 10 PIGS]**
**[NEXT OBJECTIVE: THE TAX AUDIT (MONTH 2)]**
Li Shun paused at the door. *Tax Audit.*
He had forgotten about that. The government was never far behind when money was involved.
"Wife," he called out. "Did your father mention anything about a tax official visiting?"
Zhao Lian paused. "He mentioned the Provincial Revenue Bureau was curious about the sudden spike in commerce in Clearwater. Why?"
"Nothing," Li Shun said, masking his concern. "Just preparing for guests."
*Guests with ledgers and calculators. Great.*
He walked inside, ready for his chili, but his mind was already calculating how to hide the system's influence from the imperial auditors.