The day of the demonstration arrived without banners.
That was Lin Yan's decision.
No drums. No gambling stalls. No shouting vendors. Just a clear stretch of packed earth beyond the pasture and a quiet understanding passed through the village: watch, don't rush.
Xu Wen returned shortly after sunrise, this time with only one attendant. He wore simpler robes, dust-colored, and dismounted before the elm tree. He nodded to Lin Yan—respectful, measured.
"You've kept it small," Xu Wen observed.
"Small shows truth faster," Lin Yan replied.
Villagers gathered in a loose half-circle, careful to leave space. Children were held back. Old Chen stood near the fence, staff planted firmly, eyes sharp as ever.
Lin Yan adjusted the leather hat and raised a hand.
"No betting," he said calmly. "No chasing animals. Anyone who crosses the line leaves."
No one argued.
He pointed to the ground where a thin line had been dragged with a stick. "This is the course. Straight. Short."
A murmur ran through the crowd.
"That's it?"
"So short?"
"No turns?"
Lin Yan ignored the whispers.
The leased horse was led forward—clean, calm, ears forward. A second horse stood beside it, borrowed from a merchant who had arrived the night before. Taller, flashier, restless.
Speed without discipline.
Lin Yan didn't mount either horse.
Instead, he gestured to two young men—both trained quietly over the past weeks, both taught the same way: stop before run, calm before speed.
"Walk," Lin Yan said.
They walked.
"Run," he said.
They ran.
The distance passed quickly. No whipping. No shouting. Hooves struck the earth evenly, dust rising in clean lines rather than clouds.
They stopped exactly at the end of the course.
Silence followed.
Then someone exhaled loudly.
Xu Wen nodded slowly. "No collision. No panic."
"That's the point," Lin Yan said.
He turned to the crowd. "This is not racing for thrill. This is testing training."
Then he surprised them.
He brought out the bull.
Not charging. Not straining.
Just walking—head level, rope slack, steps heavy and controlled.
A few people instinctively stepped back.
Lin Yan stopped ten paces from the crowd.
"This animal pulls," he said. "It does not fight."
He motioned to a thick log bound with rope. Two men tried to drag it earlier that morning and failed.
Lin Yan looped the harness carefully, checked the knots twice, then stepped aside.
"Pull."
The bull leaned forward.
Muscle gathered. Hooves dug in.
The log shifted.
Slowly. Steadily.
No roar. No frenzy.
Just power applied with patience.
When the log reached the marked point, Lin Yan raised his hand.
The bull stopped.
Dust settled.
Xu Wen let out a breath. "No blood."
"No fear," Lin Yan replied.
A quiet voice spoke from the edge of the crowd.
"Animals trained this way live longer."
Lin Yan turned.
A young woman stood there, sleeves tied back, hair bound simply. She carried a small basket of herbs, eyes observant rather than timid.
"I've treated injured animals," she continued evenly. "Most injuries come from panic, not weakness."
Xu Wen glanced at her. "And you are?"
"Shen Yue," she said. "My family runs the apothecary near the river."
Lin Yan inclined his head slightly. "You see clearly."
She met his gaze without flinching. "You train them like people."
Lin Yan smiled faintly. "People aren't much different."
That was all.
No lingering looks. No dramatic pause.
But Old Chen noticed.
He always did.
After the crowd dispersed, Xu Wen approached Lin Yan privately.
"This will be reported favorably," he said. "You've avoided spectacle."
"For now," Lin Yan replied.
Xu Wen hesitated. "Be careful. Success invites shortcuts."
"I know," Lin Yan said.
That evening, the family ate together.
Vegetables. Grain. A small spoon of pork fat stirred in at the end.
Enough.
The youngest brother looked up from his bowl. "Third Brother… were you nervous today?"
Lin Yan considered. "A little."
"Why?" the boy asked.
"Because once people see order," Lin Yan said, "they want to use it."
Later, under the quiet sky, the system interface appeared.
[Demonstration: Successful]
[Official Trust: Cautious Approval]
[New Relationship Node: Detected]
Lin Yan closed it without comment.
The pasture lay calm. The horse slept standing. The bull breathed evenly.
Lines had been drawn today—not just in dust, but in expectation.
And tomorrow, people would test them.