The road to Willow Creek Village was a scar of baked earth and cracked stones. The heat shimmered off the ground, distorting the horizon into a wavering mirage. It had been weeks since the northern counties had seen rain, and the land was crying out in thirst.
Li Wei rode at the front of the small procession, his cowboy hat pulled low to shield his eyes. Beside him, Old Zhang rode with the silent vigilance of a hawk, his hand never straying far from the sword at his hip. Behind them rattled the empty cart, driven by Li An, intended for the weaker calves that couldn't make the walk back.
"It's worse than the reports said," Zhang muttered, spitting dust. "Even the bandits wouldn't hide in this. Nothing to steal but dry bones."
"Desperation makes people dangerous," Li Wei replied, his voice rough from the dry air. "But it also makes them willing to sell. We aren't here to steal, Zhang. We're here to save lives—theirs, and the calves'."
As they crested a hill, Willow Creek Village came into view. It wasn't much—a cluster of mud-brick houses huddled around a dry riverbed. The fields that should have been green with millet were yellow stalks of dead crops.
In the center of the village, a crowd had gathered. It wasn't a market day, but it looked like one. Farmers stood in ragged lines, holding ropes attached to calves, yearlings, and a few milk cows. Their faces were masks of resignation.
And standing in the middle of it all, dressed in fine silk robes that looked obscenely out of place, was a man shouting from atop a carriage.
"I told you, fifty copper coins!" the man sneered, flipping a coin between his fingers. "That's the price. Your calves are skin and bones. I'm doing you a charity by taking them off your hands so you don't have to watch them die."
"That's a breeding calf!" a farmer shouted, his voice cracking. "She's worth three taels of silver in a good year!"
"It's not a good year, you fool," the merchant laughed. "It's a drought. Take the fifty coppers, or keep the beast and watch it starve. I have the only water cart for ten miles."
Li Wei reined in his horse. "Who is that?"
"That's Merchant Liu," a villager nearby whispered, recognizing Li Wei's fine clothes—though his ranch wear was confusing them. "A grain speculator. He's been hoarding water and feed, waiting for the prices to spike."
Li Wei's eyes narrowed. He remembered men like this from his past life—profiteers who feasted on disaster.
He kicked his horse forward.
"Fifty coppers is an insult," Li Wei said, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.
Merchant Liu turned, his face twisting in annoyance. "Who are you? Another country bumpkin trying to sell a dying cow? Get in line."
Li Wei dismounted, his boots hitting the dust with a heavy thud. He walked his horse to the front, standing next to the desperate farmer.
"I am Li Wei," he said, "of the Westland Ranch."
"The Westland?" Liu scoffed. "That wasteland? I heard a fool bought that rock pile. You have no water there either. Why would you buy cattle?"
"We have water," Li Wei lied smoothly—or rather, he spoke the truth of the System's spring. "And we have grass. Green grass."
A ripple of shock went through the crowd. Green grass? In this drought? It sounded like a fairy tale.
Li Wei walked down the line of animals. They were thin, their ribs showing, but their eyes were clear. They were survivors. They were exactly what he needed—genetic stock that had weathered hardship.
He pointed to the heifer the farmer was arguing over. "I'll give you one tael of silver for her."
The farmer gasped. One tael? In this drought? It was a fortune compared to the merchant's insult.
Merchant Liu's face turned purple. "You! You're disrupting the market! You can't pay that! You'll drive up the price!"
"I'm paying a fair price," Li Wei corrected, pulling a heavy bag from his belt. He turned to the crowd. "I have silver. I need cattle. I don't care if they're thin. I'll feed them. Who wants to sell?"
"I do!" "Me too!" "Take mine!"
The crowd surged forward.
"You fool!" Liu shrieked, his face red with rage. "You'll ruin us! You can't take them to the Westland! It's a death trap!"
"The Westland is the only place growing grass right now," Li Wei said, his voice calm but projecting over the noise. He looked Liu dead in the eye. "And we're leaving. Now."
He tossed the first silver tael to the farmer. "Old Zhang, Li An! Start loading the weak ones. We're buying the whole lot."
***
**POV: Li An**
Li An sat atop the cart, stunned. His brother was throwing silver around like it was water. The cart was already filling with calves that were too weak to walk, and Li An was surrounded by the lowing of cattle.
"Brother!" he whispered as Li Wei passed by. "We don't have enough silver for all of them! We only brought fifty taels!"
Li Wei leaned in close, his voice low. "We aren't paying silver for all of them. We're paying silver for the breeding stock. For the rest... we're offering jobs."
"Jobs?"
Li Wei turned back to the crowd. Many of the farmers had sold their animals, but now they stood with empty hands and heavy hearts. They had money for food today, but what about tomorrow? Their fields were dead.
"You all have no crops," Li Wei shouted. "And you have no animals to tend. Come with me. I need men who know cattle. I need men to build fences, dig ditches, and guard the herd. I pay in silver and I pay in food. Three meals a day. Real food."
The villagers looked at each other.
"He's a scholar," someone muttered. "Scholars lie."
"I am a rancher," Li Wei corrected. "And the Westland is open."
A young man stepped forward. "I'll come. My wife and child... I need work."
"I'll come too," an older farmer said. "My field is dust. I have nothing left here."
Li Wei nodded. "Then pack your tools. We leave in an hour. We have a long drive ahead."
***
**POV: Old Zhang**
The herd was larger than expected. Sixty head of cattle, plus the cart of calves. And now, twenty ragged villagers trailed behind them, carrying bundles of belongings on their backs.
It was a migration.
Old Zhang rode the flank, keeping the herd moving in a loose formation. It was slow, agonizing work. The heat was relentless. The cattle were weak and stubborn.
"Keep 'em moving!" Zhang shouted, his voice hoarse. "Don't let them stop! If they lie down, they won't get up!"
He looked at Li Wei, riding point. The scholar wasn't riding like a scholar anymore. He was slumped in the saddle, drenched in sweat, guiding the herd with a rhythmic call—a low, chanting sound that seemed to soothe the animals.
*Hyah. Hyah. Move 'em out.*
It was a strange song, but the cattle seemed to listen.
As the sun began to dip, casting long, blood-red shadows across the valley, a low rumble echoed in the distance. Not thunder. Something else.
"Horses," Zhang said, his hand flying to his sword. "Fast horses. Coming from the south."
Li Wei pulled his horse to a stop. "Bandits?"
"Maybe," Zhang squinted. "Or maybe that merchant Liu sent some 'friends' to take his revenge."
He drew his blade. The metal hissed against the scabbard.
"Circle the wagons!" Zhang barked to the villagers. "Get the cattle to the ridge! Li An, get the cart behind that rock wall!"
The calm migration turned into chaos. The villagers, hardened by hardship but untrained in combat, scrambled to obey. The cattle, sensing the panic, began to mill and bellow.
Li Wei rode back, his face grim. "How many?"
"Five riders," Zhang estimated. "Likely hired swords. They won't want a fair fight. They want the silver and the herd."
"They can have the silver," Li Wei said, his eyes cold. "But they can't have the herd."
"You can't negotiate with bandits, Boss."
"I'm not going to," Li Wei said. He reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a bundle of dried chilli peppers Gao had packed. "Zhang, you know how to make fire?"
"What kind of question is that?"
Li Wei pointed to a narrow pass ahead. "The wind is blowing south. We set a small fire with green brush and these peppers. It won't burn them, but the smoke... it will choke them. It'll blind them."
Zhang raised an eyebrow. "Chemical warfare? You're a tricky one, Scholar."
"I'm a rancher," Li Wei said. "We deal with pests. Now go."
***
**POV: The Bandits**
The five riders galloped up the trail, swords drawn. They were hired thugs, men with scarred faces and yellow teeth. They expected to find a panicked scholar and a cripple guarding a bag of gold.
Instead, they rode into a wall of thick, acrid smoke.
"Cough! Cough!" The lead bandit pulled on his reins, his horse rearing. The air was filled with a biting, stinging smoke that made his eyes water and his throat seize. It was like inhaling fire.
"My eyes! I can't see!"
"The horses are panicking!"
The horses, sensitive creatures, screamed and bucked, throwing their riders into the dust.
Through the smoke, a silhouette emerged.
Old Zhang didn't hesitate. He rode out of the haze, his sword a silver arc in the dying light. He didn't kill them—he didn't need to. He sliced the straps of their saddles, slashed the reins, and brought the flat of his blade down on the thugs' backs with bone-rattling force.
"Go back!" Zhang roared, his voice like a demon from the smoke. "The Westland is cursed! Turn back, or the fire takes you!"
The bandits, blind, choking, and terrified, scrambled to their feet. They didn't know how many men were in that smoke. It felt like an army. They ran, dragging their horses, hacking and coughing.
Silence returned to the valley.
***
**POV: Li Wei**
The fire had been small, but the peppers had done their job. The smoke cleared, leaving a lingering scent of spice and char.
Zhang rode back, sheathing his sword. He coughed once, wiping his eyes. "Damn peppers. Even I can't breathe."
"Did they leave?"
"Running like scared rabbits," Zhang grinned. "You fight dirty, Boss. I like it."
"We protect what's ours," Li Wei said, looking back at the herd. The cattle had settled down, and the villagers were peeking out from behind the rocks, amazed.
They had survived.
"Let's keep moving," Li Wei said, turning his horse. "The Westland is just over the next ridge. We're almost home."
As they crested the final hill, the moon broke through the clouds. Below them lay the Westland.
It wasn't a wasteland anymore. In the moonlight, the fields of Napier grass looked like a silver ocean, swaying gently. The windmill stood tall against the sky, creaking rhythmically. The cabin glowed with a warm, welcoming light.
To the tired, thirsty villagers and the starving cattle, it looked like paradise.
"Welcome," Li Wei said, sweeping his hat off his head and holding it to his chest. "To the Westland Ranch."
**[Quest Complete: Expand the Herd.]**
**[Current Herd Count: 82 Head.]**
**[New Population: 22 Villagers.]**
**[Reward: Enhanced Water Irrigation System (Level 2).]**
**[System Alert: Herd Expansion 90% Complete. Goal: 100.]**
Li Wei smiled. They had the people. They had the cattle. The ranch was waking up.