The howl cut through the night, sharp and chilling, silencing the crickets instantly.
Inside the darkened bunkhouse, the atmosphere shifted from cozy fatigue to razor-sharp tension. Lin Wanshan didn't panic. In his past life, he had dealt with corporate crises that were far scarier than a few wild dogs, though admittedly, those didn't have fangs.
"How many?" Lin Wanshan whispered, his hand tightening around the pitchfork handle.
"Three. Maybe four," Zhao Tiezhu replied, his voice a low rumble. He was already at the door, the rusted iron rod in his hand. He looked calm—terrifyingly so. This was the environment he had been bred for. "They are circling the pen. They smell the blood from the branding."
"Wen," Lin Wanshan turned to his brother, who was trembling under his blanket. "Stay inside. Bar the door. Do not open it unless you hear my voice or Tiezhu's."
"Be careful, Brother!" Lin Wen squeaked.
Lin Wanshan grabbed a torch he had prepared earlier—a bundle of oily rags tied to a stick. He struck the flint against the stone hearth. *Spark. Spark. Whoosh.* The torch flared to life, casting dancing shadows against the adobe walls.
"Let's go," Lin Wanshan said.
They burst out into the cold night air. The wind had picked up, howling through the valley like a mournful spirit.
Near the livestock pen, the cattle were stampeding in panic. The cows lowed in terror, kicking up dust. In the flickering light of the torch, Lin Wanshan saw them.
Grey shapes. Gaunt, mangy fur, and eyes that glowed with a sickly green hunger. They were Great Qian Steppe Wolves—smaller than the timber wolves of America, but vicious pack hunters.
Two wolves were harassing the fence, snapping at the wooden posts, trying to spook the herd into breaking through. A third, the largest of the pack, was crouched low, watching from the shadows of the rock wall Zhao Tiezhu had built that afternoon.
"They're testing us," Lin Wanshan muttered. "Tiezhu, the big one is the alpha. I'll take the torches. You take the kill."
"Understood," Tiezhu grunted. He didn't run; he surged forward like a landslide.
Lin Wanshan waved his torch, shouting at the top of his lungs. "HEY! GET OUT OF HERE!"
He threw a piece of burning kindling toward the two wolves at the fence. The wolves yelped, startled by the sudden fire, and scrambled back.
But the Alpha was smarter.
Instead of running, it lunged. Not at the cattle, but at Lin Wanshan. It saw the two-legged creature as the weaker link.
It was a blur of grey fur and yellow teeth. Lin Wanshan barely had time to raise the pitchfork.
*CLANG!*
The Alpha clamped its jaws onto the iron prongs of the pitchfork. The impact knocked Lin Wanshan backward into the dirt. The wolf was heavy, heavier than it looked. It snarled, saliva dripping onto Lin Wanshan's face. The smell was nauseating.
"Impudent beast!" Lin Wanshan gritted his teeth. He wasn't a scholar anymore. He pushed back with all his might, jamming the butt of the pitchfork into the wolf's chest.
Suddenly, a thunderous bellow shattered the night.
From the pen, a massive black shape burst through the gate. It was Captain.
The bull didn't run. He didn't hide. He lowered his head, his hooves tearing up the earth, and charged.
The Alpha wolf barely had time to turn before 1,500 pounds of Angus muscle slammed into its flank.
*CRACK.*
The sound of breaking bones was sickeningly loud. The wolf was tossed like a ragdoll, tumbling ten feet across the clearing.
The bull didn't stop. He stood over Lin Wanshan, pawing the ground, head lowered, snorting clouds of steam. He looked like a demon from hell in the flickering torchlight.
"Good boy, Captain!" Lin Wanshan gasped, scrambling to his feet.
Across the yard, Zhao Tiezhu engaged the other two wolves. He didn't use fancy martial arts. He used the brutal efficiency of a soldier. As one wolf leaped for his throat, Tiezhu stepped aside and swung his iron rod like a baseball bat.
*Thwack.*
The wolf hit the ground with a yelp and didn't get up.
The remaining wolf, seeing its alpha broken and its packmate crushed, tucked its tail and vanished into the darkness.
Silence returned to the valley, broken only by the heavy breathing of the bull and the crackling of the torch.
"Boss?" Tiezhu called out, wiping blood from his cheek. "You alive?"
"I am," Lin Wanshan said, dusting off his clothes. He walked over to the Alpha. The wolf was broken, its ribs shattered by Captain's impact. It was dying.
Lin Wanshan looked at the beast. In his old world, he might have felt pity. But here, in this harsh reality, it was either the wolf or his investment. Or him.
"Tiezhu," Lin Wanshan said softly. "Finish it. Don't let it suffer."
Tiezhu nodded. A quick, merciful strike with the rod.
*[System Alert: Combat successful. Herd Defense Rating increased.]*
*[Relationship Update: Bull "Captain" Loyalty: 100%. Trait Unlocked: Guardian.]*
"Captain," Lin Wanshan walked up to the bull, slowly extending a hand. The bull snorted, rubbing his massive muzzle against Lin Wanshan's palm. The beast had saved his life.
"We're going to need a bigger fence," Lin Wanshan laughed, the adrenaline fading into exhaustion.
***
**The Next Morning**
The sun rose on a blood-stained patch of dirt, but the mood in the camp was high.
"It's a Steppe Alpha," Tiezhu said, skinning the carcass with practiced ease. "The fur is thick. Worth at least two taels of silver in the city. The meat is tough, but we can stew it."
"Keep the fur," Lin Wanshan decided, drinking a cup of hot water from the kettle. "I want to make a rug for the office. A trophy. It reminds us that this land fights back."
He looked at his hands. They were shaking slightly, not from fear, but from the lingering energy of the fight. He realized something profound: he had enjoyed it. The danger, the action, the reliance on his own strength and his animals.
It beat a quarterly report any day.
Just then, a cart appeared on the road.
It wasn't a fancy carriage this time. It was an oxcart driven by a weather-beaten old man. Behind him sat a young woman, clutching a bundle.
"Halt!" Tiezhu stood up, holding the bloody knife. The sight of the scarred giant holding a blade was enough to stop anyone.
"I... I am looking for the Master of the Westland," the old man stammered, clearly terrified by the smell of blood and the look of the place.
"I am he," Lin Wanshan stepped forward. He was wearing his scholar's robe tied at the waist, his new leather boots caked in mud, and his wide-brimmed hat.
The young woman looked at him with wide eyes. "Sir... my name is Liu Mei. I... my family was thrown out of our village. We heard in the city that you were hiring workers for... for cattle. We were told you take anyone, even the useless."
Lin Wanshan looked at them. They were thin, clearly having fallen on hard times.
"I don't hire useless people," Lin Wanshan said firmly. "I hire ranchers. The work is hard. You wake up before the sun, you shovel manure, you build fences, and you might have to fight wolves. I pay fifty copper coins a day, plus food and shelter. If you are lazy, you leave. If you work hard, you eat meat. Do you understand?"
The old man and the girl looked at each other. The mention of "eating meat"—even if it was just wolf stew and pork—was a luxury for many peasants.
"We will work!" the old man said quickly. "I was a stonemason before the famine. I can build walls!"
"And I can sew and cook!" Liu Mei added.
"Good," Lin Wanshan pointed to the bunkhouse. "Tiezhu will show you where to put your things. Mason, we need a real foundation for a proper barn. Girl, we need clothes repaired and the noon meal cooked. Welcome to the Westland."
As they walked away, Lin Wanshan turned to Lin Wen. "See that, Wen? We're growing."
"Brother," Lin Wen said, looking at the dead wolf. "That wolf... it was scary. But you stood in front of it."
"Someone has to," Lin Wanshan ruffled his brother's hair. "Now, go check the water trough. Make sure the cows are drinking."
Lin Wanshan stood alone for a moment, looking out at the green valley. He pulled a small notebook from his pocket. It was a ledger.
* **Expenses:**
* Land: (Already paid)
* Livestock: 23 Taels.
* Supplies/Horses: 15 Taels.
* Remaining Silver: 12 Taels.
* **Income:**
* None yet.
* **Personnel:**
* Zhao Tiezhu (Soldier/Foreman).
* Liu Mei (Cook/Helper).
* Old Man Chen (Mason).
* **Herd:**
* 1 Bull (Captain).
* 10 Cows (Breeding).
* Total: 11.
He clicked his tongue. "We need a cash flow. Cattle take too long to grow. We need something faster."
He looked at the sheep pen, which was currently empty. He had bought a few sheep yesterday from a passing herder for cheap—five ewes. They were currently grazing on the hill.
"Sheep produce wool and milk," he muttered. "But dairy is a niche market here. What about... fertilizer?"
He looked at the massive piles of manure the cattle had produced overnight.
In this era, farmers used manure, but they didn't process it well. Lin Wanshan knew about *composting*. If he could produce high-quality organic fertilizer, he could sell it to the farmers in the fertile lands east of the city.
"Baby steps," he told himself. "First, survive. Then, thrive."
He walked toward the barn construction site. The sun was fully up now. The Westland was awake, and for the first time, it felt like a home.