The road to Qingzhou Prefecture was a winding ribbon of packed earth, flanked by fields of young wheat and the occasional grove of mulberry trees.
Li Shun rode in a simple mule-drawn cart, his younger brother Li Ming beside him. The vehicle was borrowed from the Zhao household—a humble conveyance, intended more for hauling supplies than for comfort. The wooden wheels jolted over every rut and stone, sending vibrations up Li Shun's spine that would have been agonizing for a man in his past life.
But this body was young, resilient, and, more importantly, fueled by a nervous energy that overshadowed any physical discomfort.
Driving the cart was Old Zhang, a servant in the Zhao household for thirty years. He was a man of few words, his face leathery from decades of sun exposure, his hands calloused from the reins. He had been assigned by the magistrate ostensibly to help with the driving, but Li Shun suspected the older man was also there to keep an eye on the unpredictable son-in-law.
"Young Master," Old Zhang said, his voice gravelly, breaking a long silence. "We'll reach the river crossing by noon. If the ferry isn't crowded, we can make the prefecture gate before they close for the night."
"Good," Li Shun replied, pulling his gaze away from the passing landscape. He had been mentally reviewing his notes—the list of breeds, the calculations of feed-to-weight ratios, the architectural plans for a simple corral. "I want to be at the market the moment it opens tomorrow."
Li Ming, who had been nervously clutching a small bag of coins hidden in his robes, leaned in. "Brother, are you sure about this? The markets in the prefecture are known to be... fierce. Merchants there can smell a newcomer."
"It's not the merchants we need to worry about," Li Shun said calmly. "It's the quality of the stock. And for that, we have an advantage."
He touched his chest, where the glass vial of the Vitality Elixir rested in a hidden pocket. He had re-read the *Foundations of Modern Ranching* until he could recite it by heart. But theory was theory. Today was the test.
*One ox. Ten cows. Sheep. Horses.*
It was a modest start. But from humble acorns, mighty oaks grew. Or in his case, from scrubby brush, legendary beef would be raised.
---
The city of Qingzhou was a behemoth compared to sleepy Clearwater.
Walls of gray brick rose thirty feet into the air, patrolled by soldiers in leather armor. The gates were a chaotic bottleneck of humanity—farmers hauling vegetables, merchants leading caravans of camels and horses, soldiers on patrol, and beggars pleading for coins.
The smells hit Li Shun like a physical wall: roasting meat, manure, unwashed bodies, incense, and the metallic tang of smithies.
They passed through the gates after paying the entry tax—a copper coin for each person and the cart. The city inside was a maze of streets, organized by trade. The textile district was on the left, the iron mongers on the right, and ahead lay the beating heart of the prefecture's agricultural trade: the Beast Market.
Unlike the orderly, penned markets Li Shun remembered from his past life, this was a pandemonium of noise and dust. Thousands of animals were gathered in pens or tied to hitching posts—pigs squealing, chickens clucking in bamboo cages, and the low, mournful bellows of cattle.
"Stay close," Li Shun instructed Li Ming and Old Zhang. "And keep the money hidden."
He stepped down from the cart, his boots sinking slightly into the muddied straw that covered the ground. He straightened his back. He was not here as the useless son-in-law of a country magistrate. He was here as a buyer.
His first destination was the prestigious end of the market, where the best draft animals were sold.
---
"This one is a prime specimen, young master!"
The merchant, a stout man with a greasy apron and a voice like a cracked bell, slapped the flank of a massive yellow ox. The animal was impressive, its muscles rippling under a coat the color of dried grass. It stood placidly, chewing cud, its eyes dull but calm.
"Five years old. Broken to the yoke just last season. Can plow five mu a day without tiring."
Li Shun walked around the animal slowly. He activated his system, focusing his gaze.
**[SPECIES: YELLOW OX (LOCAL DRAFT BREED)]**
**[AGE: 5 YEARS]**
**[HEALTH: GOOD]**
**[PURPOSE: PLOWING]**
**[BEEF YIELD POTENTIAL: LOW]**
**[MARBLING: POOR]**
**[TEMPERAMENT: DOCILE]**
**[PRICE: 18 SILVER TAELS]**
*Eighteen taels.*
Li Shun kept his face impassive. The animal was worth it—for a farmer. It was strong, healthy, and well-trained. But for his purposes? It was useless. Its muscles were dense and sinewy, built for pulling, not for eating. The meat would be tough, lacking the intramuscular fat that made beef delicious.
"It is a fine animal," Li Shun said smoothly. "But I am not looking for a plow hand."
The merchant blinked. "Not for plowing? Then what? Milk? This is an ox, young master, not a nanny goat."
"I am looking for breeding stock," Li Shun lied—technically. "I have... experimental pastures. I need animals with different builds."
"Experimental?" The merchant looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head. "Young master, an ox is an ox. You buy it, you work it, and when it dies, you eat it. That is the way."
"Show me the pens at the back," Li Shun said, changing the subject. "The ones with the animals that... didn't sell."
The merchant's eyes narrowed. "The culling pens? Those are for slaughter, young master. The meat houses buy them by the pound. No use for a gentleman like yourself."
"I will be the judge of that."
After a moment of hesitation—and perhaps the calculation that a rich-looking customer was not to be argued with—the merchant waved his hand. "Suit yourself. But don't blame me if you catch a disease."
---
The "culling pens" were located at the far edge of the market, downwind of the main thoroughfare. The smell here was sharper—sickness, infection, and the acrid scent of fear.
These were the animals deemed unfit for work: the lame, the sickly, the old, and the aggressive.
Li Shun walked slowly along the wooden fences. His heart ached for the animals. In his old life, he had loved cattle. Seeing them in this state—ribs showing, coats matted, eyes dull—was painful.
But he was also looking for opportunity.
*Come on, system. Show me something.*
He scanned the pens.
A cow with a lame leg.
**[PROGNOSIS: PERMANENTLY LAME. BEEF QUALITY: TOUGH. DISCARD.]**
An old bull, its teeth worn down.
**[PROGNOSIS: AGED. BEEF QUALITY: POOR. DISCARD.]**
A calf that seemed too small for its age.
**[PROGNOSIS: MALNOURISHED. RECOVERABLE. BEEF QUALITY: AVERAGE. POTENTIAL: LOW.]**
He was about to move to the next pen when a commotion broke out near the side gate.
"Get back, you beast! I said get back!"
A handler was yelling, swinging a stick at a large black animal in a separate enclosure. The beast charged the fence, slamming its horns against the wood with a crack that echoed through the market.
It was a bull. A massive, scar-covered, absolutely furious bull.
Its coat was black as coal, matted with dust and dried blood. It had a hump over its shoulders that spoke of strength, but its frame was gaunt—it hadn't eaten well in days. One of its horns was chipped.
The handlers were terrified of it. A crowd had gathered, watching the spectacle with a mix of horror and amusement.
"Crazy beast!" the merchant from earlier spat, having followed Li Shun. "Came in from the western tribes. Wild-caught. Broke three men's arms trying to yoke it. Useless for work. Can't even get near it to slaughter it properly. They'll probably just shoot it with crossbows and drag the carcass out."
Li Shun stepped closer, ignoring the merchant's warning.
The bull stopped its rampage. It turned its massive head, fixing Li Shun with a dark, intelligent eye. There was no madness there—only fury. And pride.
*He's not crazy. He's wild. He refuses to be broken.*
Li Shun focused.
**[SYSTEM SCANNING...]**
**[SPECIES: UNKNOWN LOCAL VARIETY (FERAL)]**
**[GENDER: BULL]**
**[AGE: 3 YEARS]**
**[HEALTH: DEHYDRATED, MINOR LACERATIONS, MALNOURISHED]**
**[TEMPERAMENT: EXTREMELY DOMINANT, AGGRESSIVE]**
**[HIDDEN TRAITS DETECTED:]**
* **GENETIC ANOMALY:** This specimen carries dormant genetic markers similar to *Bos taurus* (Angus lineage).
* **MUSCULAR DENSITY:** High.
* **MARBLING POTENTIAL:** EXTREME (Dormant). Requires high-quality nutrition to activate.
* **COMPATIBILITY WITH VITALITY ELIXIR:** 98%.
Li Shun's heart skipped a beat.
*Angus lineage. Extreme marbling potential.*
This was it. The diamond in the rough. The foundation of his herd.
The merchant shook his head. "Stay back, young master. That thing is a killer. It's worth nothing but dog food."
Li Shun turned to the merchant, his face calm. "How much?"
The merchant laughed. "How much? Young master, you can't be serious. It's a monster. If you buy it, it'll kill you before the week is out."
"How much?" Li Shun repeated, his voice dropping an octave, carrying the authority he had learned in his previous life managing department disputes.
The merchant blinked, surprised by the shift in demeanor. "Well... the slaughterhouse offered two taels for the carcass. But if you want it breathing... three taels. But I wash my hands of it! No returns!"
"Three taels is acceptable," Li Shun said. "I will also need a strong chain, not a rope. And a cart with high rails."
"Brother, no!" Li Ming whispered frantically, tugging at Li Shun's sleeve. "That beast will kill us! Look at it!"
Li Shun looked at his brother, then at the bull. The animal was watching him again, blowing steam from its nostrils.
"He's not crazy, Ming'er," Li Shun said quietly. "He's just proud. He's never been broken. And I don't intend to break him."
He stepped right up to the edge of the pen, staring the bull in the eye. The animal snorted, pawing the ground, but it didn't charge. It was waiting.
"I'll take him," Li Shun said.
---
While the handlers (bribed with extra copper coins) maneuvered the furious black bull into a reinforced cart—a process that took an hour and involved much shouting and prod sticks—Li Shun continued his search.
He had spent three taels on the bull. He had seventeen remaining.
He needed cows.
He moved to the mixed pens, where older dairy cows or draft cows past their prime were sold. These animals were cheaper, calmer, but generally considered poor investments.
He needed cows that could mother strong calves. He didn't need them to work; he needed them to eat.
He found a group of ten cows being sold by a farmer who was retiring. They were a mixed lot—some yellow, some mottled, all looking a bit tired.
"Five taels for the lot," the farmer said, shaking his head. "They're dry, mostly. Good for one more calf maybe, then soup."
Li Shun scanned them.
**[GROUP ANALYSIS:]**
* **Health:** Fair to Moderate.
* **Fertility:** 7 of 10 are viable for breeding.
* **Demeanor:** Docile.
*Seven viable.* It was a risk, but he needed numbers.
"I'll give you four taels," Li Shun bargained. "And you help me load them."
The farmer grunted. "Four and a half, and I'll throw in that old woolly sheep in the corner."
Li Shun looked at the sheep. It looked like a dust mop with legs.
"Done."
Next, horses. He needed mounts. Not carriage horses, but working horses. Sturdy, sure-footed animals.
He found them in a pen of "rejected cavalry remounts." Two young geldings, brown and sturdy, deemed too small or too spirited for the army.
"Six taels for the pair," the horse dealer said. "They're fast, but they don't take the bit well."
"Five taels," Li Shun countered. "I don't need them to take a bit. I need them to run."
The dealer shrugged. "Five it is."
Li Shun did the mental math.
* Bull: 3 taels.
* Cows: 4.5 taels.
* Horses: 5 taels.
* Remaining: 7.5 taels.
He needed supplies. Feed for the journey. Tools. Rope. Basic veterinary supplies.
He turned to Old Zhang. "Uncle Zhang, take Ming'er and buy hay and bran. Enough for three days' travel. Also, find a blacksmith and buy two iron rings and a branding iron—just a simple straight bar."
Old Zhang looked at the chaotic collection of animals—the raging bull in the cart, the tired cows, the spirited horses. "Young Master... are you sure? We could still buy two good plow oxen with this money. Steady profit."
"Plow oxen don't build empires, Uncle Zhang," Li Shun said, watching the black bull in the cart. The animal had calmed down slightly, watching the passing crowd with wary eyes. "Trust me."
As Old Zhang and Li Ming hurried off to the supply stalls, Li Shun took a moment to breathe. He had his foundation. It was rough, it was risky, and everyone thought he was a fool.
But he had the system. And he had the Elixir.
He walked over to the cart holding the black bull. The beast watched him approach. Li Shun didn't look away. He didn't show fear.
"I'm going to call you 'Hei Bao'," Li Shun said softly. "Black Panther. You're going to be the grandfather of a legacy."
The bull snorted, tossing its head.
"Get ready. We have a long road home."
---
As the sun began to dip below the city walls, Li Shun stood by the carts, waiting for Old Zhang. The market was thinning out, merchants packing up their wares.
He heard a scuffle near the alleyway leading to the labor market.
It was a rougher part of the square, where day laborers, guards, and discharged soldiers gathered to find work. A crowd had formed.
"Get out of here, you cripple! No one wants a one-eyed dog!"
Li Shun frowned. He walked closer.
In the center of the crowd, a large man was being shoved by a street tough. The man was tall, perhaps six feet, with shoulders like boulders. He wore a faded, torn military tunic. His hair was disheveled, and a nasty scar ran down the left side of his face, pulling his eyelid into a permanent squint.
He had a wooden bowl in his hand, begging for coins. The tough kicked the bowl over, scattering the copper coins inside.
"I said move, soldier boy! The war's over! You're useless now!"
The big man didn't fight back. He simply stood there, enduring the kicks and insults with a stoic, dead expression. He looked like a man who had seen the worst the world had to offer and found it wanting.
*An ex-soldier.*
Li Shun watched the scene. He needed hands. Strong hands. He needed someone who could handle the black bull, someone who wasn't afraid of danger.
The tough pulled back his fist to punch the big man.
The big man didn't flinch. He simply looked at the attacker with his one good eye, a look so cold and empty that the tough hesitated, his courage failing him.
"Enough."
Li Shun's voice cut through the noise. He stepped into the circle.
The tough turned, sneering. "Who are you? This your dog?"
Li Shun didn't answer. He simply stared at the man, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. In his previous life, he had dealt with angry taxpayers and corrupt contractors. He knew how to handle bullies.
"He is with me," Li Shun said. "Pick up his coins."
"What? Make me!"
Li Shun didn't raise his voice. He simply reached into his robe and pulled out a single silver tael. He held it up. The metal glinted in the fading light.
"If you pick them up, this is yours. If you don't, you explain to the magistrate why you are harassing citizens in his city."
The mention of the magistrate—coupled with the silver—cooled the tough's temper instantly. He scrambled to pick up the coppers, his face red.
Li Shun tossed the silver tael to the tough, who caught it and scurried away with his friends.
Li Shun turned to the big man. The ex-soldier was looking at him with confusion.
"Why?" the man asked, his voice raspy like gravel grinding together. "I am of no use. My arm... it doesn't lift like it used to. And my eye..."
"I have a job," Li Shun said. "It involves hard work, long hours, and dangerous animals. I need someone who isn't afraid to get hurt. And I need someone who knows how to keep their mouth shut."
The big man hesitated. "What is the pay?"
"Three meals a day. A roof over your head. And five silver taels a month."
It was a generous wage for a laborer, but fair for a skilled guard. The man's eyes widened.
"I am... Han Qiang," the man said slowly. "I was a sergeant in the Northern Garrison. Discharged after... an ambush."
"Sergeant Han," Li Shun said, extending his hand. "I am Li Shun. I am building a ranch in the west. It is going to be hard, and no one thinks it will work. Do you want to prove them wrong?"
Han Qiang looked at the young master's hand, then at the cart behind him—specifically at the black bull, who was currently trying to bite through the wooden slats of the wagon.
Han Qiang saw the beast. He saw the chaos. And for the first time in months, the dead look in his eye flickered with something like life.
"I am not afraid of hard work," Han Qiang said, gripping Li Shun's hand. His grip was like iron. "And I am certainly not afraid of that beast."
"Good," Li Shun smiled. "Then welcome to the team. Your first job is to make sure that bull doesn't escape before we get home."