The goats settled in with less drama than the pigs. The nanny, whom Xiaoshan named 'Willow' for her graceful neck, and the billy, 'Thorn' for his temperament, became a seamless part of the homestead's rhythm. They cleared the tougher underbrush the pigs missed, their agile lips stripping leaves from thorny stems. Their manure, pelleted and dry, joined the growing fertility piles. A new, sturdier lean-to shelter was built for them against the existing pig pen wall, sharing one fortified side. The family's construction skills were improving.
The Integrated Systems Management passive reward of 15 points brought Lin Yan's total to 145. The next Shop Tier at 300 felt closer, a goal shimmering on the horizon. The summer debt installment, however, loomed much larger and nearer.
The pigs, fully recovered, grew with alarming speed. Spot and Splotch were no longer cute weaners; they were solid, heavy-bodied swine, their rooting now a powerful force that could overturn small stones. They required more space. Using logs from the forest and stones from the cleared land, Lin Gang and Lin Qiang, with Er Niu's help, built a substantial expansion to the pig enclosure, doubling its size. The labor took two full days, during which egg sales and foraging had to continue unabated.
The physical toll was immense, but the sight of the two contentedly grunting pigs in their spacious new pen was a reward. Their health was paramount; they represented the largest chunk of their potential summer wealth.
One afternoon, as Lin Yan was repairing a hinge on the chicken coop gate with a scrap of the tinker's wire, a stranger rode into the village. Not a tinker or a traveling herbalist, but a man on a good, solid horse, dressed in the durable, practical clothes of a military or government courier. He went directly to Village Head Li's compound.
The village buzzed with speculation. An hour later, Li's scribe was seen hurrying to the Zhang estate. The buzz intensified.
Lin Yan felt a prickle of apprehension. Official attention was rarely good for the poor.
The next morning, the stranger, accompanied by Village Head Li and Old Zhang's steward, toured the village fields. They stopped for a long time at the Zhangs' vast millet fields, then at the common pasture. Then, to Lin Yan's surprise, they approached the Lin fence.
The stranger, a man with a weathered face and keen eyes named Huang, looked over the woven barrier at the vibrant green sea of their cover crop. "This field," he said, his voice carrying. "Whose is it?"
"The Lin family's, Honored Courier," Li said, his tone carefully neutral.
"That's not millet or wheat. What is it?"
Lin Yan, working nearby, stepped forward and bowed. "It is a mix of clover, vetch, and grass, sir. A cover crop. To heal the soil for future planting."
Huang's eyes swept over the lush growth, then to the sturdy chicken coop, the active pig pen, the browsing goats. His gaze was assessing, not dismissive. "Soil looks poor at the edges. But this patch is thriving. You use manure?"
"Yes, sir. Our own, and some gifted."
Huang grunted. "The Imperial Horse Pastures up north had a brutal winter. They're short on quality fodder. This clover looks good. You plan to cut it for hay?"
The tinker's rumor was real. This was the market force, made flesh. "This crop is for our own animals, sir," Lin Yan replied cautiously. "And to improve the land. We have only this one mu."
Huang nodded, as if that was the expected, sensible answer from a smallholder. "A pity. Well-tended land is a credit to the village." He glanced at Li. "The tax assessment will note productivity." With that, he mounted his horse and moved on.
The visit was brief, but its implications echoed. The Imperial need was confirmed. Their cover crop had been noticed by an imperial courier. And Li had been reminded that their productivity affected his standing.
The encounter lit a fire under Lin Yan. The Bluestem grass seed was now even more precious. They needed to plant it, to see if it could be their key to that high-value fodder market. But they had no cleared land ready.
The pigs were the answer. He redirected their rotational clearing with renewed urgency, focusing on a sunny, well-drained slope within their wooded margin. He supplemented their foraging there with extra kitchen scraps, encouraging them to root deeper, faster.
The pressure within the family was a tangible thing. They moved with a quiet, grim efficiency. The Debt Bowl held sixty-one coppers. They needed eighty-nine more by late summer. The pigs were their only hope—if they could be fattened enough to sell one by then.
Then, Young Zhao returned.
His arm was still in a sling, his face healing in yellow and purple bruises. He took to lounging near the village path that bordered the Lin property, watching them work with a sullen, resentful gaze. He didn't speak, but his presence was a poison. The unspoken accusation—you did this—hung in the air.
One evening, Lin Xiaoshan came running back from checking the perimeter snares, white-faced. "The snares… the ones near the west fence. They're all torn up. Triggered but empty. And… and there's human footprints."
Sabotage. Petty, dangerous sabotage.
Lin Yan and Lin Gang went to see. The carefully set snares had been ripped from their anchors, the wires bent. A small, sharp knife had been used to cut the cords. The message was clear: I can touch what's yours.
"It's him," Lin Gang growled, his hands clenching into fists.
"We have no proof," Lin Yan said, though his own anger was a cold knot in his chest. "And we cannot be drawn into a feud. It's what he wants."
They reset the snares in different, hidden locations. They increased their patrols. The family's nerves, already frayed by debt, stretched tighter.
Two nights later, the attack came.
It was not on the snares, but on the goats. A shrill, terrified bleating from the wooded pen shattered the pre-dawn darkness. Lin Yan was the first out, grabbing the fire poker. Lin Gang was right behind him with the axe.
In the gray light, they saw a figure hunched over near the goat shelter. Thorn, the billy goat, was on his feet, head lowered, facing the intruder. Willow was bleating in panic.
The figure turned. It was Zhao. In his good hand, he held a crude club. He'd been trying to break the hurdle fence, perhaps to steal a goat, or simply to let them run loose and get lost.
"Get away from them!" Lin Yan shouted, advancing.
Zhao's face, twisted with pain and malice, sneered. "Or what, sickly boy? You'll have your big brother beat me again?"
"We didn't touch you," Lin Gang said, his voice low and dangerous. "But I will break your other arm if you touch our stock."
Zhao, emboldened by resentment and perhaps drink, lunged not at the men, but at the hurdle, smashing his club against the woven wood. Thorn, protective and enraged, charged. The billy's horns caught Zhao in the thigh, not a deep gore but a solid, shocking blow that made him stumble back with a curse.
In that moment, Lin Gang moved. He didn't swing the axe. He dropped it and closed the distance in two strides, his fist connecting with Zhao's jaw with a sickening crack. Zhao went down like a sack of grain, his club flying from his hand.
Lin Gang stood over him, breathing heavily. "You come near our land, our animals, again," he said, each word a hammer blow, "and I will not stop at your arm. Now. Get up. And get out."
Zhao scrambled up, clutching his jaw, fear finally overriding his spite. He limped away into the fading darkness, leaving his club behind.
The family gathered, shaken. The goats were安抚ed, the fence inspected. It was holding. The confrontation was over in minutes, but it changed everything. They had crossed a line from passive defense to active, physical protection. The village would hear of it.
At dawn, Lin Yan went to Village Head Li. He didn't wait to be summoned. He reported the attempted theft and the defense, sticking strictly to the facts. "He was damaging our property and threatening our livestock. My brother intervened to stop him. He left under his own power."
Li listened, sipping tea. He knew of Zhao's reputation. He also knew the Lin family was now a productive, tax-relevant unit, and Zhao was a troublemaker. "I will speak to the Zhao family," he said finally. "Ensure they control their son. Your right to defend your property is recognized. But do not seek further… retribution."
It was as much protection as they would get. When Lin Yan returned, Er Niu was waiting, having heard the rumors. "Yan-ge, if that worm comes back, you tell me. We'll make sure he finds a new village to bother."
The solidarity was strengthening. The beating Zhao had received weeks ago, which they hadn't administered, had built a reputation. Now, having actually defended their home, that reputation was cemented. They were no longer just hardworking; they were capable of violence when pressed. It was a double-edged sword, but in the frontier, a necessary one.
The immediate crisis passed, but the energy it had consumed was a drain they couldn't afford. The Debt Bowl mocked them: sixty-one coppers.
A week later, the Bluestem grass planting began. The pigs had done their job, turning a quarter of the wooded slope into a rough, root-free tilth. The family gathered to sow the precious seed from their small pot. It was a tense ceremony. This was their future gamble. If the grass thrived here, they could expand it, maybe even rent a small parcel of common pasture next year to grow more.
As they finished, a system notification chimed.
[Milestone: 'Land Reclamation (Stage 1)' complete. Forest margin converted to arable/pasture use via integrated animal labor.]
[Reward: 'Basic Fencing (Advanced)' – knowledge for building movable paddocks and stronger permanent enclosures. 25 System Points.]
[Points Total: 170/300 for Tier 2.]
New knowledge of post-setting, bracing, and gate construction settled in. The points were a welcome surge. He was over halfway to the next Tier.
Days blurred into a cycle of feeding, cleaning, foraging, and watching the Debt Bowl. The lavender seedlings survived, putting on true leaves. The cover crop began to flower, the clover a mass of red-pink blossoms buzzing with bees. It was beautiful, and it was almost time to cut it for hay to store for winter.
Then, the breakthrough came from the pigs.
Spot, the larger of the two, had reached a size that was becoming difficult to feed adequately. The decision, though painful, was clear. To have a chance at the summer payment, one pig had to be sold. They would keep Splotch for breeding and future litters.
Lin Yan and Lin Gang took Spot to the prefectural town market, a full day's journey. They presented him not as a scrawny village pig, but as a healthy, well-grown hog raised on green forage and grain. His size and condition spoke for themselves. After tense haggling with a pork butcher who supplied the town's inns, they secured a price of one hundred and twenty coppers.
It was a fortune. More than double their entire Debt Bowl savings.
Returning home as night fell, the heavy cloth bag of coins between them, they were silent. It was triumph tempered by loss. Spot was gone. But his sale had changed their destiny.
They poured the coins into the Debt Bowl the next morning. The family stared at the heap: one hundred and eighty-one coppers. They had not only met the summer installment; they had surpassed it by thirty-one.
A collective, shuddering breath was let out. Tears welled in Wang Shi's eyes, not of sadness, but of release. They had done it. Again.
They paid Village Head Li his one hundred and fifty coppers well before the deadline. The remaining thirty-one coppers went back into the Bowl, a tiny buffer. They still had Splotch, the goats, the chickens, the growing bluestem grass, and the lavender.
The circle had held. The pig had eaten their waste and forage, grown fat on their labor, and his sale had bought their land another season. It was the cycle in its rawest, most brutal form.
As Lin Yan stood by the pig pen that evening, watching Splotch root contentedly alone, he felt the weight of the debt lessen, replaced by the weight of responsibility. They had cash, but they had one less animal. The buffer was slim. They needed to breed Splotch, to restart the cycle. They needed the bluestem grass to grow. They needed the lavender to thrive.
They had won a battle, not the war. But for the first time, standing there in the twilight with the smell of hay and animals and fresh-turned earth, Lin Yan allowed himself to believe they might actually win.
The foundation had been tested by theft, violence, and sickness. It had held. Now, it was time to build upon it.
[System Milestone: 'Debt Crisis – Second Hurdle Cleared.' Major liquidity event achieved through strategic livestock management.]
[Reward: 'Animal Breeding Basics' knowledge unlocked. 40 System Points.]
[Alert: 'Splotch' is of breeding age. Locate a suitable boar for service.]
[Points Total: 210/300. Tier 2 unlock within reach.]