The morning mist clinging to the western hills of Qinghe County did not smell of pine or wildflowers. It smelled of damp dust and old stones.
Li Wei stood at the edge of the property, a rough wooden fence post in one hand and a heavy iron hammer in the other. Before him lay the "West Mountain"—fifty *mu* of desolate, sloping land that the locals called the "Stone Grave."
To the average eye, it was a wasteland. The soil was a mix of yellow clay and loose gravel, marred by protruding rocks that broke plowshares like twigs. Nothing grew here except tough, inedible thistles and dry brush.
But Li Wei didn't see a graveyard. He saw a canvas.
**[Map Scanner Activated.]**
**[Scanning Sector A-1...]**
**[Analysis Complete.]**
**[Soil Composition: High mineral content, low nitrogen. Drainage: Excellent.]**
**[Terrain: Sloped (Ideal for air circulation).]**
**[Verdict: Highly Suitable for Perennial Pasture Establishment.]**
The blue text faded, and Li Wei let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. The system confirmed what his rancher's instinct—borrowed from a lifetime of dreams—had suspected. This land was useless for rice or wheat, which needed standing water and rich, loose soil. But for grass? For grazing?
It was perfect.
"Brother!"
Li Shan's voice broke through the silence. The younger boy came stumbling up the hill, carrying two large buckets of water hanging from a yoke across his shoulders. He was panting, his face flushed red.
"The... the nearest well is halfway down the mountain," Li Shan gasped, setting the buckets down with a heavy splash. "This is going to kill us, Brother. We can't carry water for fifty *mu*."
Li Wei wiped the sweat from his forehead. "We won't have to. We're not watering crops by hand, Shan. We're planting perennial grass. Once the roots take hold, they'll find the water themselves."
He knelt by the freshly tilled earth—a small patch he and Han Daniu had cleared earlier that morning. Reaching into the deep pocket of his robe, he pulled out a pouch of seeds.
They were small, unassuming, and looked like any other wild grass seed. But they were **Napier Grass**, genetically optimized by the System for high yield and rapid spread.
"Watch closely," Li Wei said, sprinkling the seeds into the shallow furrow. "This is our gold mine."
Li Shan looked at the seeds, then at the barren earth. "Grass. You spent ten taels... on grass seed?"
"Not just any grass," Li Wei corrected, covering the seeds gently with soil. "This is Elephant Grass. It grows tall, it grows fast, and it's sweeter than candy to a cow. If we plant this now, by next month, this hill will be green."
Li Shan shook his head, but he didn't argue. He had seen the change in his brother over the last few days. The lethargy was gone, replaced by a terrifying energy. Li Wei woke up before dawn, worked until his hands bled, and went to sleep with a smile on his face.
"Go rest," Li Wei said, standing up. "I need to head to the market. Today is the day we get our General."
***
The livestock market on the outskirts of Qinghe County was a sensory assault. The air was thick with the smell of manure, dust, and the acrid scent of fear. Hundreds of animals—pigs, chickens, goats, and the occasional ox—were crammed into pens, their owners shouting over one another to attract buyers.
Li Wei walked through the chaos, his eyes scanning the perimeter. He bypassed the healthy, sleek oxen that farmers were haggling over. Those were treasures, worth thirty or forty taels of silver, far out of his reach.
He headed for the back, where the smell turned sour. The "reject pen."
Here, animals that were too old, too sick, or too injured were sold for a pittance, usually to butchers who would turn them into cheap sausages or stew meat for the poor.
A large man was leaning against the fence, whittling a piece of wood. He was dressed in a ragged, faded military tunic, the color of dried blood. A large, chipped broadsword was strapped to his back. This was Han Daniu, the man Li Wei had met briefly a few days prior when hiring help to clear the initial brush.
"You really came," Han Daniu grunted, not looking up from his whittling. "I thought you'd sleep in and change your mind."
"I don't sleep in," Li Wei said, stopping beside him. "Is it here?"
Han Daniu jerked his thumb toward the pen. "In the corner. Beast nearly gored the butcher this morning. They're talking about just killing it and dragging it out."
Li Wei stepped closer to the fence.
Inside the muddy pen stood a massive beast. It was a local Yellow Cattle bull, but it was larger than any Li Wei had seen in this era. Its coat was a muddy, matted brown, caked with dried blood and filth. One of its horns was snapped off, a jagged, ugly stub. A festering wound ran across its left flank, likely from a wolf attack or a careless cart driver.
The bull stood with its head lowered, panting heavily. Its eyes were rolled back, showing the whites. It was wild with pain and fear. Every few seconds, it would kick out at the air, snorting a challenge to anyone who dared come close.
"Crazy beast," a merchant nearby spat on the ground. "Useless for plowing. Too aggressive. If you buy it, Rancher Li, you're buying your own coffin."
Li Wei ignored him. He focused his mind.
**[Target Scanned.]**
**[Species: Local Yellow Cattle (Bull).]**
**[Age: 4 Years.]**
**[Status: Critical Condition. Infection in left flank. Malnourished. Acute stress.]**
**[Hidden Potential: S-Rank Dominant Genetics. High Muscle Density.]**
**[Recommendation: Immediate Treatment required.]**
*S-Rank genetics?* Li Wei's eyes narrowed. In a world where cattle were bred for docility and strength to pull plows, this bull had been discarded because it was *too* wild, *too* strong. It was a fighter. It was a survivor.
*And it's perfect for breeding.*
"Merchant," Li Wei called out.
A greasy man with a calculating look hurried over. "Ah, Scholar Li! You have an eye for... unique specimens? This bull is a monster! I can let you have him for five taels. Strong bones, see?"
"Five taels?" Li Wei scoffed, his voice loud enough for the crowd to hear. "Look at the wound. It's infected. The beast has a fever. It'll likely be dead by morning. You'll have to pay someone to drag the carcass away. I'll give you one tael."
"One tael? Are you robbing me?" the merchant wailed, clutching his chest. "The meat alone is worth two!"
"Then sell it to the butcher," Li Wei said, turning to leave. "Come, Han Daniu. Let's go find a sheep instead."
"Wait! Wait!" The merchant panicked. The butcher had already refused the bull, fearing the meat was tainted by the fever. "Fine! One tael! But you sign a waiver. If it kills you, not my problem!"
Li Wei nodded. "Han Daniu, pay the man."
Han Daniu raised an eyebrow but handed over the silver coin. He looked at Li Wei with a mixture of respect and concern. "Boss, that thing is going to kill us. I can fight men, but a ton of angry beef?"
"We are not fighting it," Li Wei said calmly. "We are healing it."
Li Wei walked to the edge of the pen. The crowd of farmers and idlers gathered around, sensing drama.
"Look! The live-in son-in-law is going to wrestle the bull!"
"He's mad! That beast will crush him!"
Li Wei ignored the whispers. He didn't enter the pen. Instead, he knelt down, bringing himself to eye level with the beast, but keeping the fence between them.
The bull snorted, pawing the ground, preparing to charge the fence.
Li Wei closed his eyes for a second.
**[Skill Activated: Basic Veterinary Knowledge.]**
Suddenly, the world shifted. The System overlaid a schematic of the bull's body in Li Wei's vision. He could see the inflammation in the wound, the elevated heart rate, and the spikes of cortisol—the stress hormone—flooding the animal's brain.
The bull wasn't just angry. It was in agony.
Li Wei didn't shout or wave his arms. He began to hum. It was a low, rhythmic hum, a tune he remembered from an old country song in his past life. He projected an aura of absolute calm.
Slowly, Li Wei reached into his pouch and pulled out a bundle of fresh, green grass—not the System grass, but some he had picked on the way. He tossed it gently through the fence slats.
The bull eyed the grass, its nostrils flaring. It didn't charge.
"Easy, boy," Li Wei murmured. "I know it hurts. I know they whipped you when you couldn't pull that load. I know they called you useless."
The bull's ears twitched. It took a hesitant step forward.
The crowd fell silent. The transformation was subtle but undeniable. The wild, rolling eyes of the bull focused.
Li Wei pulled out the final item from his inventory—the **Beginner's Gift Pack** had contained a small bottle of **[Primary Healing Ointment]**.
"I'm coming in," Li Wei whispered to Han Daniu. "Be ready to distract it if I'm wrong."
"Boss..." Han Daniu gripped his sword hilt, muscles tensing.
Li Wei opened the gate and stepped inside.
The merchant gasped. "Fool! Get back!"
The bull lowered its head, the intact horn pointing directly at Li Wei's chest. It huffed, a sound like a bellows.
Li Wei walked forward slowly, his posture non-threatening. He didn't look the bull in the eye—a challenge in the animal kingdom. He looked at its shoulder.
He stopped three feet away.
"I'm not going to whip you," Li Wei said softly. "You're a king. You don't pull plows. You don't drag carts. You eat. You sleep. And you protect the herd."
The bull seemed to freeze. The pain was etched in every line of its body.
With a speed that surprised everyone, Li Wei stepped to the flank. The bull kicked out, but Li Wei was already there, his hand pressing the ointment onto the wound.
The bull bellowed, a sound that shook the dust from the rafters.
Han Daniu shouted, drawing his sword half an inch.
But Li Wei didn't run. He kept his hand on the wound, massaging the cooling, medicated paste into the inflamed flesh.
**[System: Infection suppressed. Pain relief active.]**
Almost instantly, the bull's muscles relaxed. The raging fire in its nerves was doused by the System's potent medicine.
The bull stopped bellowing. It turned its massive head, sniffing Li Wei's hair.
Li Wei reached up and scratched the bull behind its remaining ear.
"Good boy," Li Wei whispered. "Let's go home."
He turned and walked toward the gate. He didn't look back.
For a second, the bull stood still. Then, with a docility that made the merchant drop his abacus, the bull followed Li Wei out of the pen, limping slightly but following the man in the thin robe.
The crowd parted like the Red Sea.
"Hells bells," Han Daniu muttered, sheathing his sword. He looked at Li Wei with a new light in his eyes—not just a boss, but a leader. "You really are a rancher."
"Help me get him back to the hill, Daniu," Li Wei said, taking the rope lead. "We have a fence to fix. This King needs a castle."
***
**POV: Zhao Qingxue**
The Zhao household was quiet in the afternoon. Qingxue sat in her study, a book of poetry open on the desk, but she hadn't turned a page in an hour.
She was listening.
She was waiting for the sound of the door opening, for the shuffling steps of her husband returning to beg for forgiveness or complain about his back.
But the house remained silent.
"Young Miss," Xiao Tao whispered, peeking her head in. "News from the market."
Qingxue's hand tightened on her book. "Is he back?"
"No, Miss. But... there is talk in the streets. They say... they say the Young Master tamed the 'Demon Bull'."
Qingxue looked up sharply. "The Demon Bull? The insane beast that killed a man last year?"
"Yes, Miss. They say he walked right up to it, spoke to it, and it followed him like a puppy. He bought it for one tael. People are saying he used sorcery."
Qingxue stood up, her silk robes rustling. The image of her husband—the man who couldn't fix a leaky roof without help—walking up to a killer bull was absurd. It was a lie. It had to be.
"Sorcery," she scoffed, though her voice trembled slightly. "He probably just got lucky. Or the beast was tired."
She walked to the window, looking toward the western hills. The sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows.
"He is stubborn," she murmured to herself. "Buying a cripple, planting weeds... he is trying so hard to prove me wrong."
She felt a strange sensation in her chest. It wasn't anger. It was a lingering unease, mixed with a spark of something she refused to name.
Why didn't he come back to gloat? Why didn't he come back to ask for help?
*He is out there,* she thought. *In the dirt, with a monster, doing something no one has ever done.*
"Xiao Tao," Qingxue said suddenly. "Prepare a basket. Some... some steamed buns and meat. And a jar of wine."
"For the Young Master, Miss?"
"No," Qingxue lied smoothly. "For my father. He is working late at the yamen."
But she didn't look at Xiao Tao. She kept her eyes fixed on the distant, rocky silhouette of the West Mountain.
*One tael,* she thought. *If he survives the night, I will admit he has guts. But a rancher? We shall see.*