The 'Soil Ameliorant' recipe in Lin Yan's mind was less a set of instructions and more a revelation of cause and effect. It explained the why behind their land's barrenness in chemical terms he understood from his past life: excessive alkalinity locking away nutrients. The solution was to slowly, gently nudge the pH downward. The crushed sulfurous rock they'd gathered would, over months of composting, oxidize into sulfuric compounds, creating a mild acid that would neutralize the lime in the soil.
It was a promise of transformation, but a glacially slow one. Patience, the system seemed to whisper, was the ultimate agricultural virtue.
They built the special compost pile with the care of alchemists. A base of twigs for aeration, then a layer of their best manure, a generous sprinkling of the crushed yellow rock, a layer of damp autumn leaves collected from the forest floor, then more manure, more rock, more leaves. They repeated the layers until they had a pungent, steaming mound that looked like a diseased cake. They covered it with a thatch of straw to protect it from winter rains and to contain the heat.
"This is the medicine for the land," Lin Yan told the family as they stood back, their breath fogging in the cold air. "It will work while we sleep, while we eat, through the snow. Next spring, we will till it into the worst parts of the field."
It was an act of profound faith. They were investing labor and scarce materials (the manure itself was valuable) into a process that would yield no visible return for seasons.
The 'Improved Seed Vault', in contrast, provided immediate psychological comfort. Knowing their precious, hard-won Bluestem grass seed, the lavender seeds from Qiao Yuelan, and even a few saved kernels of their original barley were safe from rodents, damp, and temperature swings was a relief. It was a bank for the future, and its very existence seemed to solidify their identity as stewards, not just scavengers.
With the onset of true winter, the rhythm of their lives contracted again. The world outside their fence became a monochrome palette of gray sky, white ground, and the bleak brown of sleeping trees. But inside their woven walls, life persisted with a stubborn warmth. The chickens, their coop insulated and draft-free, continued to lay a few eggs, enough to maintain the trickle of coin. The silage pit proved its worth; the tangy, preserved green feed was a lifesaver for the pigs and goats, supplementing the dry hay and their dwindling grain.
The eight piglets, now nearing weaning age, were the vibrant, noisy heart of the homestead. All eight thrived, meeting the system's sub-objective.
[Sub-Objective: 'Raise the Litter' – COMPLETE. 6/8 piglets survived to weaning. All 8 survived.]
[Reward: 'Basic Butchery & Preservation' knowledge unlocked. 30 System Points.]
[Points Total: 240/300.]
The new knowledge covered the humane slaughter of pigs, efficient butchering into primal cuts, salting, smoking, and rendering lard. It was the logical, if grim, completion of the cycle that had begun with Splotch's mating. They would not be slaughtering these eight—they were their breeding and market stock—but the knowledge was for the future, for the pigs that would come after.
As the piglets were fully weaned, a new problem emerged. Splotch, her mothering duties done, came back into heat. They had no boar. Letting her cycle go to waste was a loss of potential. But borrowing the Zhang estate's Duroc boar again would require another fee they couldn't afford.
Lin Yan considered their options. Old Teng's brother's boar was available for a share of the litter. That meant giving up future piglets. Or they could try to find a village boar of lesser quality for a smaller fee. As he pondered, an idea struck him. They had two young billy goats. Thorn was of breeding age. Goats and pigs were different, of course, but the principle of managing breeding cycles was universal. Could they trade?
He went to see Old Teng, not to ask for his brother's boar, but for his advice. "If I wanted to arrange a breeding for my sow without giving up a share of the litter, what would it cost?"
Old Teng spat into the frozen mud. "Coin. Or something of equal value. A young goat in good health, maybe."
Lin Yan nodded. "Thorn, our billy. He's strong, good bloodline. Would your brother take him as payment for two services of his boar? One now for Splotch, and one guaranteed next time?"
It was a barter of future potential for future potential. Teng's brother would get a quality billy goat to improve his own herd. They would get two guaranteed breedings without losing piglets.
Old Teng chewed on the idea. "He might. Goats are easier to feed than pigs. I'll ask."
The deal was struck a few days later. Thorn was led away, bleating his indignation. In return, Splotch was taken to Teng's brother's farm and bred again to the same, proven village boar. It was a slight step down genetically from the Duroc, but it kept their swine line active and diversified. Splotch returned home, potentially pregnant once more.
The loss of Thorn was felt, especially by Xiaoshan, but it was a strategic retreat. They still had Willow, the nanny goat, and she was the real milk producer. And now they had a promise of future piglets without further outlay.
Winter deepened. The family spent long evenings by the hearth. Wang Shi and Xiaohui worked on sewing a proper quilt from scraps of cloth traded for eggs, their needles flashing in the firelight. Lin Dashan and Lin Gang carved wooden spoons and bowls, improving their humble utensils. Lin Qiang, fascinated by the 'Multi-Tool Blueprint' in the Shop but lacking the points, sketched designs in the dirt floor, thinking of ways to combine tool functions with their limited iron.
Lin Yan's main winter project was a record. Using a charred stick and smoothed birch bark, he began to keep a crude journal. He noted the dates of sowings and harvests, the laying patterns of the chickens, the health of the animals, the weather. He made sketches of the Bluestem grass at different stages, of the lavender seedlings under their protective mulch. He recorded the construction of the silage pit and the sulfur compost pile. It was data. In his past life, data was power. Here, it was memory, and a weapon against the forgetfulness of seasons.
One bitterly cold afternoon, with a slicing wind driving snow against the hut, a figure stumbled up to their gate. It was Mei Xiang, bundled in every scrap of clothing she owned, her face red with cold. She carried a small, cloth-wrapped bundle.
"Idiot," she gasped as Lin Yan hurried her inside by the fire. "Walking in this. But I had to come." She unwrapped the bundle. Inside were several clusters of a strange, succulent plant with fleshy, rounded leaves. It looked almost like jade beads on a stem. "Stonecrop. It grows on sunny rocks, even in winter. It survives anything. My father says it has minor cooling properties, good for fevers. But I thought… you with your experiments… it lives where nothing else does. Maybe… maybe it could be a forage? Or just… something green to look at in this white hell."
She was offering them not just medicine, but an idea. A plant of extreme resilience. Lin Yan took a cluster, feeling the cold, hard leaves. It was a survivor. Exactly the kind of thing he wanted on his land.
"Thank you, Mei Xiang. This is… a true gift." He insisted she take a dozen eggs in return, and a cup of hot broth.
After she left, braving the wind again, Lin Yan placed the stonecrop in a shallow dish of soil near the window where the weak light fell. It wasn't about eating it. It was a symbol. A reminder that life adapted, persisted.
The winter wore on. The sulfur compost pile steamed defiantly in its thatched coat, a tiny volcano of change. The Debt Bowl gathered a few more coppers from egg sales. They were up to twenty-nine. The larger debt was a sleeping bear, but for now, they were quiet in their den.
Then, a week before the winter solstice, Willow the goat fell ill. She stopped eating, her milk dried up, she lay listlessly in her shelter. The family's anxiety spiked. She was their only milk source, and a valued clearing animal.
Lin Yan examined her. No obvious injury, no bloating. Her eyes were dull. The 'Basic Animal Husbandry' knowledge suggested possible parasites or a deficiency. They had no real medicine. Remembering the stonecrop's purported cooling properties and its sheer vitality, he made a desperate tea from the leaves, mixed it with a little honey from a wild hive Xiaoshan had found in autumn, and dripped it into her mouth.
For two days, they nursed her. They kept her warm, offered her the most tempting bits of silage. On the third day, she nibbled at some hay. On the fourth, she got up and took a long drink of water. She recovered, slowly. They never knew what ailed her, but she lived. The stonecrop, or their care, or sheer luck, had saved her.
The crisis passed, leaving them shaken but grateful. They had faced sickness, debt, and winter, and they were still here. Their animals were mostly healthy. Their stores were holding.
On the solstice itself, they allowed a small celebration. They cooked a thicker porridge, enriched with a precious lump of goat cheese Wang Shi had managed to make and save. They even cracked two eggs into it. They sat around the hearth, the flickering light painting their faces, and Lin Yan read from his birch-bark journal. He read about the first chick, the building of the fence, the ox, the theft, the birth of the piglets, the visit of the Magistrate.
Hearing their struggles and triumphs listed aloud gave them a strange power. It was no longer just a hard life; it was a story. Their story.
As the longest night passed and the year turned towards the faint promise of more light, Lin Yan felt a quiet certainty settle in his bones. They had survived the first, most brutal cycle. They had a system, however crude. They had knowledge. They had a name, however small. They had eight golden piglets sleeping in the straw, and a pile of sulfur-laced compost dreaming of acid beneath the snow.
The foundation was no longer just about survival. It was about legacy. And it was ready for spring.
[System Note: Winter trials endured. Record-keeping initiated, enhancing Host's analytical capabilities. Resilient species (Stonecrop) acquired. First strategic livestock trade executed. All core assets preserved through season.]
[Passive Reward: Due to meticulous observation and record-keeping, research time for 'Soil Ameliorant' effectiveness reduced by 15%.]
[Points Total: 240/300. Steady progress maintained.]