The first ten eggs from the "Vitality Chickens" sat in a small wicker basket lined with soft hay. Under the dim light of the morning sun, they possessed an uncanny, pearlescent sheen—not quite gold, but a warm, healthy cream color that seemed to glow.
Lin Yan picked one up. It was heavy, the shell thick and smooth. In this era, most village eggs were tiny, fragile things with pale yolks, often tasting of the mud and scraps the scrawny hens scavenged. These, however, were the product of System-optimized genetics and soil that was now teeming with nutrient-dense grubs.
"Yan'er," his mother, Zhao Mei, whispered, reaching out to touch an egg as if it were a precious jewel. "We can't eat these. We... we must sell them. One egg like this could buy five catties of coarse grain."
Lin Yan shook his head gently. "Mother, we aren't going to sell all of them. And we aren't buying coarse grain anymore. To build a ranch, the family needs strength. Break four for a stir-fry with the wild leeks Lin Er found. We sell the other six."
The family stared at him. Eating four eggs in one sitting was a luxury reserved for New Year's or a wedding. But Lin Yan's gaze was firm. He looked at his younger brother, Lin Xiao, whose face was still too pale from long hours of studying by candlelight. He looked at his sisters, whose wrists were like matchsticks.
"Wealth starts with our own health," Lin Yan said. "A starving man cannot hold the reins of a horse."
A Taste of the Future
The smell that soon filled the hut was intoxicating. When the eggs hit the seasoned iron pan, they didn't run thin; the yolks were a deep, vibrant orange-red, standing tall and firm. As they cooked, a rich, savory aroma—clean and slightly nutty—wafted through the gaps in the thatch.
The first bite changed everything for the Lin family. The texture was creamy, almost like custard, and the flavor was so intense it made their eyes water. It wasn't just food; it felt like medicine. Within minutes of eating, a gentle warmth spread through Lin Yan's limbs, a subtle "buff" from the System's nutritional optimization.
"I feel... like I could plow the whole North Slope by myself," Lin Da muttered, staring at his empty bowl with a look of dazed wonder.
"Don't plow the slope yet," Lin Yan laughed. "We have a long walk ahead."
The Slow Road to the County
They didn't take the new cart this time. To the villagers, the cart was already a sign of "suspicious luck." Lin Yan wanted to keep a low profile while they gathered their strength. He and Lin Da set off on foot, carrying the six eggs wrapped carefully in silk scraps, tucked inside a sturdy bamboo tube.
The walk was slow. Lin Yan used the time to observe the land beyond Stone Creek. The "Barren Field to Imperial Ranch" journey wasn't going to happen overnight. He needed to understand the ecology.
He noticed the way the water runoff from the mountains bypassed the village's main fields, leading to erosion. He saw the patches of wild Timothy grass struggling in the shade. Every observation was logged by the System, building a database for the future "Great Irrigation" project.
When they reached the county seat, Lin Yan didn't go back to the salt merchant. Instead, he headed for the 'Cloud Crane Tea House', the most prestigious establishment in the district, where wealthy scholars and traveling officials gathered.
He stood near the entrance until a junior steward came out to shoo them away.
"Wait," Lin Yan said, opening the bamboo tube. He didn't offer all the eggs; he showed just one. "Does your chef struggle to find eggs worthy of the Magistrate's morning tea?"
The steward paused, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the oversized, glowing egg. He took it, feeling its weight. "This... is this from a crane?"
"It's from a Lin Family hen," Lin Yan said confidently. "I have six. Two silver cents an egg. Not a copper less."
The steward gasped. "Two cents? You can buy a whole chicken for ten!"
"You can buy a scrawny, diseased chicken for ten," Lin Yan countered. "But can you buy the flavor of a hundred herbs and the strength of the mountain? Give this to your head chef. If he doesn't agree, I'll give you the egg for free."
Ten minutes later, the steward returned, looking breathless. He handed over twelve silver cents—more than a month's wages for a common laborer.
"Our master wants to know," the steward whispered, "how many can you bring next week?"
"Next week? Maybe twenty," Lin Yan said, playing the long game. Scarcity created value.
The First "Cowboy" Lesson
On the way home, with the silver cents tucked into his belt, Lin Yan stopped at a local tanner's shop. He didn't buy silk or jewelry. He bought a long, supple strip of cured rawhide and a small jar of animal fat.
That evening, back at the hut, as the sun dipped below the mountains, Lin Yan sat on a stump and began to braid the leather.
"What's that, Yan'er?" Lin San asked, crouching down. The third brother was the most restless of the siblings, possessing a natural affinity for movement and animals.
"It's a lariat," Lin Yan said, his fingers moving with a memory that belonged to his soul, if not his new body. "In the high pastures, the wind moves faster than a man. If you want to lead a beast, you have to reach further than your arm can stretch."
He stood up and flicked his wrist. The leather hissed through the air, forming a perfect loop that snagged a fence post ten feet away.
"Whoa!" Lin San jumped back, his eyes sparkling. "Teach me! Brother, teach me that!"
"In time," Lin Yan said, his gaze turning toward the dark silhouette of the North Slope. "But first, we need to prepare the 'Big House' foundations. The snow will melt in a month, and when it does, the mountain will wake up."
As if in response, a low, guttural bellow echoed from the distant ridges. It wasn't the sound of a farm ox. It was deeper, wilder.
> [System Alert]
> Regional Fauna Detected: Wild "Iron-Hoof" Bulls.
> Bloodline Grade: B- (High Strength, High Aggression).
> Opportunity: Capture and domesticate to unlock 'Draft Power' milestones.
>
Lin Yan tightened his grip on the rawhide. They were still poor, still living in a hut that leaked when it rained, and still eating porridge most days. But as he watched Lin San try to mimic the throw of the rope, he knew the "slow and steady" phase was working. They were no longer just survivors; they were a team.
"Tomorrow," Lin Yan announced to his gathered family, "we start digging the cellar for the new house. And Lin San? Start practicing your running. We're going hunting."