"Wow," Ishaan Rao whispered as he looked at the mess inside the house. "This place... is full of history."
"The key is under the doormat. That was Rajesh's habit." Sophia Reed walked over to him. She was holding a brown paper bag filled with fresh bread and handmade sausages.
"This is your dinner. I don't think you will find even a single mouse to eat in this house."
"Thank you."
Ishaan took the bag. His fingers accidentally touched Sophia's fingers. Her hand was warm. Although her skin was a little rough from farm work, the warmth was clear and soft.
Sophia did not pull her hand away like a shy girl. Instead, she paused for a second. Her large, watery eyes looked directly at Ishaan. She seemed to be waiting for something, or perhaps she was testing this "lamb" from the East.
They stood very close to each other.
Ishaan could smell her scent—a mix of milk, flour, and the natural fragrance of a mature woman. It was a dangerous and attractive smell. It was the scent of another man's wife.
"Ishaan," Sophia leaned in closer. Her voice was low. The physical pressure of her presence was intense. "It will be very cold tonight. I don't know if the chimney is blocked, so do not start a fire yet."
"If... I mean, if you feel cold or scared in the middle of the night, you can come to my house. It is the white house behind the hill."
"Won't Old Harris mind?" Ishaan took a half-step back to keep a polite distance. However, he did not look away. He looked directly into Sophia's eyes.
His gaze was bold. It was the gaze of a man who understood exactly what was happening.
Sophia was stunned. She thought this handsome boy would be shy or blush, but Ishaan did not. His eyes were deep, like a hidden lake in the wilderness.
"Him?" Sophia laughed coldly. Her eyes were full of hidden desire. "He is passed out drunk on the first floor. Even thunder wouldn't wake him up. I... sleep on the second floor."
After saying those suggestive words, Sophia seemed surprised by her own boldness. She nervously fixed her hair. "I mean... I have trouble sleeping anyway. Alright, I must go back and cook for my children."
She turned around and walked quickly toward her old truck. Her tight jeans showed the powerful, rounded curves of her body. Every step she took made the curves sway in a way that would make any man's heart beat faster.
"Vroom—"
The truck started. Sophia rolled down the window and shouted one last time: "I will bring some fresh milk tomorrow morning! Remember, don't sleep too deeply. The wolves might come knocking!"
The taillights disappeared into the Wyoming darkness.
Ishaan stood there until the sound of the engine was gone. The polite smile on his face slowly faded. He looked at his dinner, and then at the broken house that looked like a ghost mansion.
"The difficulty level is quite high," he sighed.
He pulled out the wrinkled property deed. 120 acres of land, a broken house, an old barn, and $20,000 in unpaid taxes. If he did not get money soon, the government would take the land next year.
"Since I have no system, I must rely on myself."
Ishaan was not panicked. He knelt down and found a cold copper key under the doormat.
Click.
The rusty lock groaned, and the door opened. A smell of old dust hit him. Ishaan did not enter immediately. He looked toward Sophia's ranch. He could see a warm light in the distance.
"A beautiful neighbor, a useless alcoholic husband, and a $20,000 tax debt..." Ishaan walked inside and closed the door, blocking out the freezing Wyoming wind.
He did not have a "cheat," but he had eyes that could find opportunities and a heart that was not as innocent as he looked.
It was dark inside. He found the switch on the wall. Snap. The old lightbulb flickered and finally turned on. The yellow light showed a messy living room: empty beer cans everywhere and an old calendar from 2023.
There were dirty clothes on the sofa. On the coffee table sat a double-barreled shotgun that was being cleaned. Ishaan picked up the gun and checked it. The barrels were well-maintained.
Click.
He closed the gun and aimed it at the empty wall.
"The hunt begins," he whispered to himself.
He wanted to save the land, but he also wanted to live a very comfortable life in this wild country.
Suddenly, he saw a red flyer under a pile of letters. It was a local community notice:
[Rare Mushroom Season in the Teton Range! Seeking Premium Morels. Price: Up to $80 per pound! Contact: Aurora Fine Dining Restaurant.]
Ishaan raised an eyebrow. In university, he had attended a botany class. He had received a perfect score on the chapter about fungi.
Also, when he entered the house, he had smelled a special scent of damp earth near the dead oak tree outside. Under that scent, there was something else.
The scent of money.
Perhaps visiting Sophia tomorrow to borrow tools would be a good excuse. After all, a "helpless" and handsome young man going into the dangerous forest alone...
As a kind neighbor, how could Sophia not worry? Perhaps she would want to "closely" protect him.
Ishaan put down the shotgun and took a large bite of the cold sausage.
The Wyoming morning was colder than he expected.
At 6:00 AM, Ishaan woke up because of the cold. The cold air felt like it was entering his bones. He curled up on the old leather sofa. His only blanket was an old wool one left by his uncle.
"Achoo!"
Ishaan rubbed his sore neck. He stood up and went to the sink. He turned on the faucet.
Clang! Clang! The water pipes made a loud noise. Then, a few streams of dirty, yellow, rusty water came out.
Ishaan looked at the yellow water, but his eyes became very sharp and clear.