The sharp, choked yelp from the woods echoed in Lin Yan's mind long after the silence returned. He lay tense in the dark, listening to the wind sigh through the half-built fence and the steady, innocent breathing of his sleeping family. The 'Pioneer Aura' notification glowed softly in his perception, a phantom warmth against the chill of uncertainty. A favorable outcome? Had the fox been caught? Or merely scared off?
Sleep was a sporadic guest for the rest of the night. He drifted in and out, his dreams a jumble of snapping vines and gleaming, green animal eyes. When the first true light of dawn finally grayed the window hide, he was already moving, his body stiff but propelled by a nervous energy.
He dressed quietly and slipped outside, the frosty air a slap of full wakefulness. He went straight to the predator snare near the woodline fence junction. It was empty, the loop undisturbed. But the ground nearby told a story. The frost was marred by scuff marks, a clear slide of paws, and a single, dark drop of blood, already crystalized into a ruby-like bead on a blade of grass.
The fox had been here. It had triggered something—maybe not the snare itself, but perhaps brushed against the thorny reinforcements Lin Qiang had added to the fence base. It had been hurt, just enough. A warning.
A grim satisfaction settled in Lin Yan's gut. The defense had drawn first blood. He carefully reset the snare, his movements precise.
The morning routine with the chicks was a balm to his frayed nerves. The birds were thriving, their growth almost visibly accelerated. Their wing feathers were now proper, sleek pinions, and they were beginning to exhibit distinct personalities. One, slightly larger and bolder with a distinctive black spot on its chest, always ate first. Lin Yan had secretly started calling it 'Captain' in his mind.
[Daily Quest: 'Morning Vigil' completed. 5 System Points awarded. Total: 40/100.]
The points were accumulating, a slow but steady drip toward the mysterious Shop unlock. The 'Basic Tanning' knowledge sat in his mind like an unread book, waiting for a suitable hide.
After feeding the chickens and checking the empty rabbit snares, the family convened for a breakfast of porridge now slightly enriched with crushed pine nuts Er Niu had brought days earlier. The mood was focused. Today's goal was clear: complete the fence. Enclose the kingdom.
The work resumed with a determined rhythm. Lin Gang and Er Niu tackled the heaviest weaving on the third side. Lin Qiang, his clever mind engaged, began to devise a simple gate for the eastern side, using thicker poles and weaving a lattice that could be lifted in and out of slots. Lin Dashan and Wang Shi worked on processing more vines, their hands moving in practiced, painful synchrony. Lin Xiaoshan was tasked with 'security patrol,' checking the snares and keeping an eye out for predators, a duty he performed with solemn, wide-eyed importance.
Lin Yan worked alongside everyone, but his mind was multitasking. The fence was crucial, but the 90-day debt clock was a relentless metronome in his head. The chicks would not lay for another 15-18 weeks. The compost pile was a promise of future fertility, not current income. They needed a tangible product, something to sell now.
As he pulled a stubborn vine taut, his eyes scanned their enclosed mu. Barren soil, the compost pile, the coop. His gaze snagged on the weeds at the very edge, near the woods. Tough, tenacious things: thistles, dock, patches of wiry grass. Then he saw it—a sprawling, low plant with distinctive three-lobed leaves and tiny, hooked burrs. Cleavers. And nearby, a patch of lamb's quarters. Both were edible, nutrient-rich weeds for both poultry and humans in a pinch. But more importantly, they were indicators. They were survivors in this poor soil.
An idea, fragile but persistent, began to form. They couldn't grow grain yet. But they could collect it.
"Father," he said during a water break, wiping sweat from his brow. "After the harvest, the Zhang estate and the other bigger farms… they must lose a fair amount of grain in the fields during threshing and transport, yes? Kernels that fall by the wayside?"
Lin Dashan nodded, taking a sip. "Aye. The gleaners go after. But by now, the poor and the birds have picked the fields clean."
"Not the fields," Lin Yan said. "The paths. The loading areas near the manor's granary. The roadside where the carts pass. Spilled barley, millet, even a little wheat. It's considered beneath notice, trodden into the mud. But for chickens…" He let the idea hang.
Lin Qiang, sharp as ever, caught on. "You want us to sweep the dirt like beggars for a handful of grain?"
"I want us to be resourceful," Lin Yan countered, meeting his brother's skeptical gaze. "A single pound of spilled barley, collected over a week, could supplement the chick's feed significantly. It's free. It's there. And it turns waste into eggs." He used the core logic of his plan: transformation of the worthless into value.
Wang Shi spoke up softly. "The manor servants… they might chase us off. Or demand a share."
"We go at dusk. We are discreet. We take only what is truly lost in the dirt." Lin Yan looked around at his family. "Is our pride worth more than the health of our investment? More than those twenty coppers of interest?"
It was a harsh question. Lin Dashan's face tightened, but after a long moment, he gave a single, slow nod. "A man provides. However he can. Xiaoshan and I can go tonight, after the fence is done. We look like we're gathering firewood near the road."
The decision was made. It was a small, slightly humiliating tactic, but it was proactive. It was hustle.
The fence work continued. By late afternoon, the third side was complete, and Lin Qiang's clever gate was installed—a heavy, liftable lattice that sealed the entrance securely. They stood at the gate, looking in at their fully enclosed mu. It was a transformative moment. The space inside felt different—protected, intentional, theirs. The barren earth seemed to wait, expectant.
"It's a good fence," Er Niu declared, slapping a woven wall with satisfaction. "Old Fox Feng will be chewing on thorns elsewhere tonight!"
As Er Niu prepared to leave, Lin Yan stopped him. "Er Niu. Your help has been… invaluable. We have nothing to pay you with now. But when our first eggs come, your family will have a share. That is my promise."
Er Niu's broad face broke into a grin. "No payment needed between friends, Yan-ge! But I won't say no to a fresh egg!" He waved and lumbered off, whistling.
The Lin family stood in their completed enclosure, the setting sun casting long shadows from the woven walls. The silence was profound, filled not with emptiness, but with potential. They had built a box. Now they had to fill it with life and value.
True to his word, after a sparse evening meal, Lin Dashan and Xiaoshan took two small baskets and headed out, following the path toward the Zhang estate, veering off as if for the woods. Lin Yan felt a knot of anxiety. It was a minimal risk, but any attention was dangerous.
To distract himself, he focused on the system. 40 points. He willed the interface to show him the path to the Shop. A new line of text appeared.
[Shop Unlock Progress: 40/100 Points. Additional Requirement: Host must achieve 'First Barter Transaction' using ranch-produced or ranch-enhanced goods.]
So it wasn't just points. He needed to engage with the local economy. An egg, eventually. But perhaps… He looked at the compost pile. Perhaps some of the improved soil, once ready, could be traded for something? Or the knowledge of pest control?
As dusk deepened, his father and brother returned. Their baskets were not full, but they were not empty. In the bottom of each lay a modest collection of sweepings: dirt, chaff, and nestled within, perhaps a cup and a half of intact barley kernels, some cracked millet, and a few fat wheat berries, all dusty but perfectly edible.
"It was as you said," Lin Dashan reported, his voice low. "By the granary steps, in the ruts of the cart path. No one paid us any mind. We looked like boys picking up stones." There was no shame in his voice now, only the quiet satisfaction of a provider who had found a way.
Lin Yan took a barley kernel, cleaned it on his sleeve, and held it up. It was golden, plump. "This," he said, "is the start of our feed stock. We'll winnow it clean tomorrow. Soak it to soften for the chicks. This is a victory."
That night, as he settled the chicks, he gave them a small handful of the cleaned barley as a special treat. They pecked at it with fervor, a clear upgrade from bugs and weeds. The 'Pioneer Aura' seemed to hum approvingly.
Just before sleep, a new quest appeared.
[New Weekly Quest: 'The Gleaner's Patience.']
· Objective: Accumulate 5 jin (approx. 2.5 kg) of gleaned, edible grain within 7 days.
· Reward: 25 System Points, 'Basic Grain Storage' Knowledge (Pest-proofing, moisture control).
· Failure: None. But points forfeited.
A weekly quest. The system was adapting to his pace, offering longer-term goals. Five jin was a lot from gleaning, but not impossible with daily effort. The reward was substantial—points and crucial knowledge. Grain was useless if rats or mold got it.
He accepted the quest. \[Weekly Quest Accepted. Grain Collected: 0/5 jin.\]
The next morning brought a change in the weather. A warmer southern wind pushed back the frost, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant rain. It was a false spring breath, but it energized the world. The chicks were frantic with activity. Lin Yan noticed something new near the compost pile—a few brave, green shoots he hadn't seen before. Were they from seeds in the kitchen scraps? The aura's effect on plant vitality?
After the morning routine (Points: 45/100), the family split tasks. Lin Dashan and Xiaoshan would continue gleaning. Lin Gang and Lin Qiang would work on reinforcing the coop's roof against the predicted rain. Wang Shi and the women would winnow and clean the gleaned grain. Lin Yan had a different mission.
He took the one small copper coin the family possessed—a worn, thin disc with a square hole, hidden like a talisman—and set out for the village center. He needed to attempt the 'First Barter Transaction' to satisfy the Shop's requirement. He had nothing to sell. But he had an idea.
The village center was a dusty widening of the main path, with a few larger buildings: a communal mill (owned by the Zhangs), a smithy, and a combined tea-house and informal trading post run by a widow named Auntie Sun. It was here that gossip, news, and petty trade happened.
Lin Yan's target was the herbalist's stall, a small table under a awning next to Auntie Sun's. The herbalist himself, Old Man Xu, was a reclusive figure, but his sharp-tongued daughter, Mei Xiang, often minded the stall. She was Lin Yan's age, and one of his few childhood friends who hadn't treated him with pity.
Mei Xiang was sorting dried roots when he approached. She looked up, her sharp, intelligent eyes taking him in. "Lin Yan. Heard you've been busy building a wicker prison. Feeling better, I see."
"Much better, Mei Xiang. I have a… proposition."
She raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You have a copper to buy willow bark for fever? You look flushed."
"Not to buy. To trade." He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small, careful packet of leaves. It contained a mix of dried, crushed mint leaves Wang Shi had saved from last summer, and a few sprigs of a particular aromatic weed he'd identified from system knowledge as having mild digestive benefits. "A calming, settling tea blend. Good for stomach upset after poor food."
Mei Xiang took the packet, sniffed it expertly. Her expression didn't change, but her eyes flickered. "Mint. And… something else. Where'd you learn this?"
"The dream," he said, which was becoming his catch-all explanation.
She snorted but didn't dismiss it. "It's worth half a copper, at most. And you want?"
"Information," Lin Yan said. "What pests, besides foxes and rats, are most troubling to the village's chickens? And what do the wealthier households like the Zhangs or Village Head Li pay for in terms of… specialty eggs?"
Mei Xiang stared at him, then a slow, grudging smile touched her lips. "Trading tea for gossip. You have changed." She leaned forward. "For chickens: weasels are worse than foxes. They slip through holes a fist can't. And mites. In the damp, birds get mites that suck their blood, make them listless. As for eggs… Old Madam Zhang has a weak constitution. Her physician says she should eat eggs from chickens fed on certain herbs—dandelion, purslane—for strength. She pays a premium for 'herb-fed' eggs. Or claims to."
It was gold. Pure, actionable intelligence. Weasel-proofing meant checking for gaps smaller than a chicken's head. Mites meant ensuring dryness and using ash or certain herbs in the dust-bathing area. And a market for 'premium' eggs—that was a future branding strategy.
"Thank you," Lin Yan said, and meant it.
"The tea is passable," Mei Xiang said, tucking the packet into her basket. "Next time, bring more. And if your dream shows you where the best wild ginseng grows, let me know first." It was a dismissal, but a friendly one.
As he turned to leave, a commotion arose at the mill. A harried-looking servant of the Zhang estate was arguing with the miller. "…and the Master is furious! A full sack, torn open by a rat in the night! Grain spilled all through the store shed! We need lime and traps, now!"
Lin Yan's heart skipped a beat. A spilled sack in a store shed. Not trodden into the mud. Clean, contained grain.
He didn't run, but he walked swiftly back home, his mind racing. He found Lin Gang reinforcing the coop roof. "Brother, drop that for now. I need you to come with me to the Zhang estate. We're going to offer a service."
Minutes later, Lin Yan and his formidable-looking eldest brother stood at the servant's entrance of the Zhang manor, a smaller gate in the large outer wall. Lin Yan addressed the same harried servant. "Honored sir, we heard of your misfortune with the rats. My family has recently had success dealing with such pests. We can clear the spilled grain from your shed floor quickly and thoroughly, saving you labor. We would ask only for a share of the grain we salvage as our fee."
The servant, a man named Bao, looked them up and down—the frail but intense youth and the silent, ox-strong man behind him. He was desperate. The steward would blame him for the loss. "How much of a share?"
"One part in five of what we recover," Lin Yan said. It was bold.
Bao scowled but calculated. A fifth of spilled, possibly dirtied grain was better than a whole sack lost to waste and his master's wrath. "Fine. Be quick. And quiet. Don't track dirt."
They were led to a side storage shed. It was dark and smelled of dust and old grain. A torn hemp sack lay in the corner, and a generous scatter of barley, mixed with chaff and a little dirt, was spread across the hard-packed earthen floor.
This wasn't gleaning; this was salvage. Clean, mostly uncontaminated grain.
Lin Gang fetched two brooms and a flat scoop from home. Working with efficient silence, they swept the entire floor meticulously. Lin Yan used a fine sieve Bao provided to separate grain from dirt and chaff. In half an hour, they had recovered what looked to be about three-quarters of the original sack—a significant amount.
True to the agreement, Bao measured out a fifth into an old cloth bag for them. It was heavy. At least four or five jin. Then, as they were finishing, Bao muttered, "The rats' nest is likely in the west wall. If you can find and destroy it, there might be an extra measure in it for you."
Lin Yan didn't have traps, but he had knowledge. He inspected the base of the wall and found the tell-tale greasy smudge and a small hole. "We need hot water and ash," he told Bao.
Confused but compliant, Bao brought them a bucket of hot water from the kitchen and a pot of hearth ash. Lin Yan mixed the ash with the hot water to make a thin, caustic slurry. With a stick, he packed this slurry deep into the rat hole, sealing it. The ash would irritate their feet and lungs, and the mess would discourage return. It was a temporary fix, but it demonstrated capability.
Bao looked impressed. He went back to the storeroom and returned with another, smaller handful of grain—a bonus, perhaps two more jin worth. "You're clever. Don't tell the steward I gave you this."
They returned home as the first drops of the promised rain began to fall. In their possession was not the meager gleanings of the road, but nearly seven jin of clean, high-quality barley.
The family gathered, stunned, as Lin Gang poured the golden grain into a newly cleaned storage pot. It was more food than they'd seen at one time in months.
"A rat's misfortune is our windfall," Lin Yan said, a real smile on his face. The weekly quest glowed in his vision.
[Weekly Quest: 'The Gleaner's Patience.' Progress Updated. Grain Collected: 7/5 jin. OBJECTIVE OVER-COMPLETED.]
[Reward: 25 System Points, 'Basic Grain Storage' Knowledge unlocked.]
Knowledge flooded him: storing grain in raised, sealed pots; using dried chilies or certain herbs as insect repellents; the importance of cool, dry, dark conditions.
[Additional Reward for Significant Over-Completion: +10 Bonus Points.]
[Total System Points: 80/100.]
And then, another chime.
[Condition Met: 'First Barter Transaction' completed (Information traded for herbal tea).]
[All Shop unlock requirements now satisfied.]
[System Shop (Tier 1) – NOW UNLOCKED.]
In his mind's eye, the blue interface shimmered and expanded. The simple status screen was now joined by a new section, headed SHOP. Below it, a sparse but momentous list appeared:
· Enhanced Foraging Seed Mix (1 kg): Contains high-protein legume and hardy grass seeds suitable for poor soils. Attracts beneficial insects. Cost: 15 Points.
· Simple Poultry Tonic Recipe: Herbal blend to boost disease resistance and egg production. Cost: 25 Points.
· 'Vermin-Proof' Granary Liner Blueprint: Instructions to create a plaster mix using local clay and ash to deter rodents from stored grain. Cost: 30 Points.
· Basic Tool Maintenance Kit: A small vial of honing oil, a sharpening stone fragment, and rawhide cord for repairs. Cost: 20 Points.
He had 80 points. He could buy things. Real, tangible advantages.
The rain began to fall in earnest, drumming on the thatch roof, but inside the Lin hut, for the first time, the atmosphere was not of damp despair, but of dry, secure potential. They had grain. They had a fortified territory. They had a system shop brimming with possibilities.
Lin Yan looked at his family's faces, illuminated by the single rushlight—faces marked by weariness, but now also by a dawning, incredulous hope. They had crossed a threshold. The struggle was far from over, but they were no longer merely scavenging on the edges of survival. They had negotiated, innovated, and bartered. They had turned a predator's threat and a rat's pilfering into a bag of gold.
The Ranch Development System's shop was open for business. And Lin Yan, the farmer from another world, began to plan his first investment.
[System Note: Economic engagement initiated. Resource base expanded significantly. Host is transitioning from pure survival to foundational development. The Shop offers tools; wisdom dictates their use.]
The blue interface pulsed, a lantern in the mental storm. Outside, the rain washed the world clean, while inside a small, woven fortress, a family counted not just grains of barley, but the first, solid seeds of a future.