The grip of winter on the Westland broke not with a whisper, but with a torrent.
For three days, the sun beat down on the snowpack, turning the pristine white landscape into a glistening, watery maze. The stream, previously a silent ribbon of ice, swelled into a roaring brown river, carrying chunks of ice and debris downstream.
Mud. It was everywhere.
Li Shun stood on the porch of the cabin, his boots caked in the brown sludge. He watched a cartwheel slip into a rut, nearly toppling the vehicle.
"Mud season," he muttered, scratching his beard. He hadn't shaved in a week, and the stubble was coming in patchy. "The most dangerous time for a ranch."
"Wang Da slipped and fell into a manure pile this morning," Han Qiang reported, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of tea. "He's cleaning himself in the creek. The water is ice cold. He won't make that mistake again."
"Better he falls in manure than a horse breaks a leg in a hole," Li Shun said grimly. "Keep the men on fence repair. The weight of the snow pushed down three posts on the north line. If Hei Bao decides to take a walk, I don't want him wandering off."
The winter had been hard, but they had survived. The hay had held out. The wolves had not returned. And most importantly, the herd was healthy.
But the real test was coming.
Li Shun looked toward the barn. The cows were restless. They were pacing, mooing low in their throats, their flanks swelling.
The first Angus calves were due.
---
Mid-March brought the first sprouts of green pushing through the melting snow.
It also brought Zhao Lian.
She arrived not in the heavy carriage of winter, but on horseback, dressed in a practical riding outfit of dark blue. Her hair was tied back in a simple braid, a far cry from the elaborate styles of the city.
Li Shun met her at the gate, surprised.
"Wife? I didn't expect you until the festival next month."
"I said I would check the accounts," she said, dismounting gracefully. She handed her reins to a stable boy who came running. "And the roads are finally passable. I wanted to see... how the ranch fared."
She looked around. The skeletal trees were budding. The mud was atrocious. But there was a sense of life, of waking up, that the city lacked.
"It's messy," Li Shun admitted, gesturing to the mud. "But the grass is coming back."
"Show me," she said.
They walked toward the barn. As they approached, a low, mournful bellow echoed from within.
Lian stopped. "Is someone hurt?"
"No," Li Shun smiled slightly. "Someone is impatient. Cow #3. She's been in labor since dawn."
He led her into the warm, dim interior of the barn. The smell of hay and animals was strong, but Lian didn't flinch. She had grown up around her father's work; she wasn't a stranger to the earth.
They reached the stall. Cow #3, a sturdy black-and-white animal, was lying on her side, straining. Li Ming was kneeling nearby, watching anxiously.
"Is it coming?" Li Shun asked.
"The hooves are out," Li Ming said, pointing. "Look!"
Two tiny, white hooves were protruding, encased in a translucent sac.
"Good presentation," Li Shun noted with relief. "Front feet first. Head should follow."
He turned to Lian. "This will be messy. You might want to step back."
Lian crossed her arms. "I have seen births before. My father's horses foal every spring."
She stayed.
For twenty minutes, they watched the struggle. The cow strained, her muscles trembling. Li Shun stepped in only to assist gently, pulling the legs in rhythm with her contractions.
With a wet rush, a dark shape slid onto the straw.
Li Ming scrambled to clear the calf's nose.
"It's a bull!" the boy shouted.
Li Shun knelt, checking the calf. He wiped the membrane away. The calf shook its head, sneezing fluid from its nostrils.
Then, Li Shun saw the color.
It wasn't the mottled brown of the local breed. It wasn't the white-faced pattern of a Hereford cross.
It was black.
Solid, velvet black from nose to tail.
Lian leaned over the stall door, her eyes wide. "It's... black. Completely black."
Li Shun touched the calf's coat. It was thick, soft. He felt the muscle structure. Even newborn, the calf felt dense, blocky. The legs were short but thick.
**[SYSTEM SCAN INITIATED]**
**[TARGET: NEWBORN CALF]**
**[SIRE: HEI BAO (ANGUS VARIANT)]**
**[DAM: COW #3 (LOCAL DRAFT MIX)]**
**[GENETICS: 52% ANGUS DOMINANCE]**
**[TRAITS:]**
* **Hide:** Solid Black (Dominant)
* **Build:** High Muscle Density (Angus Trait)
* **Potential:** Fast Growth Rate, Moderate Marbling.
**[STATUS: HEALTHY. VIGOROUS.]**
*It worked.*
The system had classified Hei Bao's genetics as dominant. The calf was already halfway to the target breed.
"Hei Bao's son," Li Shun whispered, a feeling of profound satisfaction washing over him.
The calf sneezed again and tried to stand. His spindly legs wobbled, and he fell almost immediately.
"He's lively," Lian noted. "Stronger than the foals I've seen."
"He's a beef calf," Li Shun said, standing up and wiping his hands. "He's built to convert grass into muscle. In sixteen months, he'll weigh more than any ox in the county."
He turned to Lian. "And he's the first of many. Cow #2 and Cow #5 are due any day."
He looked at the little black bull, who was now nuzzling his mother for milk.
"I think I'll call him 'Carbon'," Li Shun said. "The building block of life."
Lian tilted her head. "A strange name. But fitting. He looks like a piece of coal that refused to burn."
---
Over the next two weeks, the Westland became a nursery.
Cow #2 gave birth to a heifer (female)—also black, though with a small patch of white on her belly.
Cow #5 had twins—a rarity. One black, one red. The red one was smaller, but the system assured Li Shun it was healthy. This was the Hereford influence manifesting in the genetic lottery.
By the end of March, the ranch had gained seven new calves. The survival rate was 100%.
The pasture began to dry out, and Li Shun moved the herd out to graze.
It was a sight to behold.
Hei Bao led the herd, his massive black frame moving with a slow, majestic gait. Behind him trailed the cows and the new calves—little bundles of energy that kicked up their heels in the fresh grass.
Li Shun sat on the fence with Han Qiang, watching them.
"Look at the size of them," Han Qiang said, pointing to 'Carbon', the firstborn. He was already noticeably larger than 'Snow', the local calf born in winter. "He's growing like a weed."
"High protein milk from the mother, plus the grass," Li Shun explained. "And the genes. They are engineered for efficiency."
He pulled out a notebook. "We need to tag them. And castrate the males we aren't keeping for breeding."
"Castrate?" Han Qiang grimaced. "That sounds... unpleasant."
"It makes them docile and helps them put on fat instead of fighting hormones," Li Shun said clinically. "We turn them into steers. We keep Carbon and maybe one other for breeding diversity. The rest become beef."
He looked at the setting sun.
"Next year, this pasture won't be enough. We need to buy the southern ridge."
---
The success of the calving season brought a new energy to the ranch, but it also brought exhaustion. Li Shun had been pushing himself for months.
One evening, after a long day of branding the new calves with the "Westland" mark, Li Shun sat by the fire in the cabin, his head nodding.
He heard a cup set down on the table.
Lian was sitting across from him. She had stayed longer than she intended, helping with the ledger entries. She was surprisingly efficient, catching errors Li Ming had made and organizing the feed calculations.
"You should sleep," she said quietly.
"Need to finish the inventory," Li Shun mumbled.
"It can wait. You have done well, Husband."
Li Shun looked up. Her face was illuminated by the firelight. The coldness from the early days was gone. In its place was a quiet respect.
"Did you doubt me?" he asked, a playful glint in his tired eyes.
"I doubted your sanity," she admitted with a small smile. "A scholar living in a mud pit, raising monsters. But... I was wrong. You have built something here. It is rough, and it smells, but it is real."
She hesitated, then reached into her sleeve.
"I brought something. From Father."
She placed a document on the table.
Li Shun picked it up. It was a land deed.
"The southern ridge?" Li Shun asked, his fatigue vanishing instantly.
"Father pulled some strings. The county claims the land is useless for farming, so the price was low. He used his own connections to expedite the sale. Consider it... an investment. He wants a 10% return on the first year's profit from the expansion."
Li Shun stared at the deed. Two hundred mu. The space he desperately needed.
"Tell Father he has a deal," Li Shun said, his voice thick with emotion. "And tell him... thank you."
Lian stood up. "I will tell him myself. I am returning to the city tomorrow."
She walked to the door of the bedroom, then paused.
"Li Shun."
"Yes?"
"Next time... do not wait for a festival to send word. I... the books can get messy easily. I should check them more often."
"Anytime, Wife. Anytime."
She disappeared into the room, leaving Li Shun staring at the fire.
*Step by step,* he thought. *The land, the herd, the family.*
He looked at the system interface.
**[RANCH LEVEL: 4]**
**[POPULATION: 9 HUMANS / 24 CATTLE / 1 SHEEP / 3 HORSES]**
**[CURRENT OBJECTIVE: EXPAND THE HERD TO 50 HEAD.]**
He closed his eyes, the sound of the crackling fire blending with the distant lowing of the cattle.
*Spring is here.