The Assessor, whose name was Master Wu, sat atop his pony and eyed the wooden bowl Lin Yan held out. He was a man accustomed to the fearful cowering of peasants and the oily flattery of merchants. Lin Yan's calm, however, was a different flavor entirely. It was the steady confidence of a man who knew exactly what his product was worth.
Wu took the bowl. He took a cautious sip, then a deeper one. His eyebrows shot up. The milk was cool—chilled by the new cellar—and had a richness that coated the tongue, devoid of the watery bitterness common in local livestock.
"This is... unexpected," Wu remarked, wiping his mustache. He looked at the rammed-earth walls again. "You say these walls are just dirt, but they are as straight as an official's road. Most farmers here can't build a pigsty that doesn't lean after a week."
"We believe in doing a thing once, and doing it right," Lin Yan replied, his hand resting casually on the wall. He could feel the density of the earth; it was curing beautifully.
Master Wu opened his ledger. "The Landlord, Lord He, is a reasonable man, but he is also a businessman. He granted this family the 'Waste Land' deed because he thought it was a graveyard. Now, you've improved the soil and built a structure. The tax will be three silver cents per year, starting this autumn. Furthermore, the Landlord has 'First Rights' on any livestock sold from this property."
Lin Yan's heart tightened. Three silver cents was a heavy blow for a family just finding their footing, but the "First Rights" was the real trap. It meant the Landlord could buy their best cattle at whatever "fair market price" his own officials decided.
"We accept the tax, Master Wu," Lin Yan said, bowing slightly. "As for the First Rights... we would be honored to provide Lord He with the best our ranch produces. In fact, when this kid matures," he gestured to the wobbly-legged male goat, "I would like to present the Landlord with a gift of the first 'Lin-Family Cured Leg.' It is a delicacy we are developing."
Wu's eyes gleamed. He liked gifts. He liked being the gatekeeper to the Landlord's favor. "I will note your filial piety in the record. See that the tax is ready by the harvest moon."
As the Assessor trotted away, the tension in the courtyard snapped. Lin Shun sat down on a stone, his face pale. "Three silver cents... Yan'er, that's almost all the money we made from the eggs and the salt. We are working for the Landlord's pockets again."
"Not for long, Father," Lin Yan said, looking at the grey clouds gathering over the mountains. "A tax is just a fee for the right to grow. And we are going to grow much faster than Master Wu can calculate."
The Scent of Change
The news of the Assessor's visit spread through Stone Creek Village like a wildfire. But instead of the usual pity, there was a new, buzzing energy. People began to see the Lins not as "the starving family," but as a "rising house."
That afternoon, two village women arrived at the gate, ostensibly to trade some dried beans for a cup of the Lin's goat milk. But their eyes were fixed on Lin Yue and Lin Hua.
"Sister Zhao," one of the women cooed to Lin Yan's mother. "Your Yue'er has grown so graceful lately. My nephew, the one who helps with the grain mill, has been asking after her. He's a sturdy lad, and his family has three mu of good land..."
Lin Yan, who was sharpening a scythe nearby, didn't miss the way Lin Yue's face flushed or the way his mother's eyes brightened with a mix of pride and worry. In the old world, a good marriage was the only social security a woman had.
Not yet, Lin Yan thought. My sisters aren't going to be 'sold' for three mu of land and a miller's debt. When they marry, they will bring a dowry of cattle and status that will make a grain miller look like a beggar.
"We thank the Aunties for their kindness," Lin Yan called out, his voice pleasant but firm. "But our sisters are the pillars of this ranch. We aren't looking to part with them while the walls are still rising. There is much work to be done."
The women left, huffing slightly, but the message was sent: The Lin family was no longer desperate. They were a family that could say no.
The Trial of the Sky
As the sun disappeared, the grey clouds that had been looming all day turned a bruised, angry purple. The temperature plummeted.
"The mountain is screaming," Zhang He, the mason, said, pointing to the North Slope. "The wind is changing. We need to cover the fresh walls!"
The rammed earth was strong, but until it fully "cured" over a few months, a heavy, driving rain could wash away the top layers, turning their weeks of labor into a muddy slurry.
"Move!" Lin Yan shouted.
The family scrambled. Lin Da and Lin Er hauled the heavy straw mats they had been weaving. Lin San and the refugee Zhang He climbed the scaffolding, their feet slipping on the damp wood. They draped the mats over the exposed tops of the walls, weighted down with heavy stones.
Then, the sky broke.
It wasn't a normal spring rain. It was a mountain deluge—cold, lashing water that turned the yard into a pond in minutes. The wind howled through the gaps in their old hut, threatening to rip the thatch away.
For three hours, the family sat huddled together in the old hut, listening to the roar. Every time a particularly loud gust hit, Lin Shun would pray to the ancestors. Lin Yan, however, sat by the small fire, staring at the door. He wasn't praying; he was calculating.
If the walls hold, the ranch is real. If they wash away, I start over. But I won't stop.
When the rain finally slowed to a drizzle near midnight, Lin Yan grabbed the oil lamp and stepped out into the mud. The rest of the men followed.
The lamp light hit the new house. The straw mats were soaked and heavy, but as Lin Yan pulled one back, he saw the earth beneath. It was damp, yes, but it was hard. The tamping had been so thorough that the water hadn't been able to penetrate more than a fraction of an inch. The walls stood straight and true, a silent testament to their labor.
"It held," Lin Da whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "Yan'er, it held!"
Lin Yan looked at the muddy yard, his mind already moving to the next step. The rain had been a test, but it was also a gift. The mountainside would be flush with new grass tomorrow.
"Tomorrow, we don't work on the walls," Lin Yan announced. "The ground is too wet. Instead, we take the lariats. The rain has driven the mountain sheep down to the lower gullies. If we're fast, we can start our own flock by sunset."
He looked at his brothers. They were tired, wet, and cold—but their eyes were no longer hollow. They were the eyes of men who had seen their work survive the storm.
[System Notification: Durability Test Passed. Reputation in Stone Creek: 'The Unshakable House'. Reward: 1x Basic Shepherding Skill Manual.]