The morning after the trip to the county seat, the Barren Slope was buzzing with a new kind of energy.
Li Wei stood in the center of the make-shift corral, holding a lead rope that was tied to the head of the chestnut mare. She was beautiful now that she was cleaned up—a deep, burnished copper color that seemed to glow even under the grey winter sky. But her eyes were still wild, rolling with suspicion.
"Red Wind," Li Wei murmured, using the name he'd chosen. "We have a lot of work to do. You can't just eat and sleep. You have to earn your oats."
The mare snorted, stamping a hoof. She tried to jerk her head away, but Li Wei held firm. He wasn't using brute force; he was using the "give and take" principle. When she pulled, he held. When she relaxed, he released the tension instantly.
*Teach her that pressure is work, and release is reward.*
Zhao Feng sat on the top rail of the fence, whittling a piece of wood. "She looks like she'd rather bite your face off than work, Boss."
"Then I'll have to convince her that biting is too much effort," Li Wei said.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the **[Western Stock Saddle Blueprint]**. The System projected the schematic into his mind—a frame designed to distribute weight across the horse's back, offering security that the local blankets and ropes never could.
But he didn't have the leather or the tools for a full saddle yet. He would have to make do.
"Zhao Feng, bring me the wolf pelt," Li Wei called out.
The pelt, cured and scraped, was thick and soft. Li Wei folded it several times, creating a padded pad. He approached Red Wind slowly, letting her smell the pelt. She flinched but didn't bite.
He swung the pelt onto her back. She danced sideways, kicking out.
"Easy," Li Wei soothed, rubbing her neck. "It's just weight. Get used to it."
For an hour, he worked on desensitizing her. He flapped the pelt, rubbed it over her flanks, and let it slide off. By the time the sun was high, she was standing still, breathing heavily but tolerating the sensation.
"Time to ride," Li Wei announced.
He vaulted onto her back—no stirrups, just his legs gripping her barrel chest.
Red Wind exploded.
She didn't just buck; she launched herself into the air like a cat, twisting her spine. She kicked out her hind legs, trying to dislodge the unfamiliar weight.
Li Wei grabbed a handful of her mane, not the reins. He leaned forward, moving *with* her. He'd ridden broncos in rodeos during his college days in the States; this mare was angry, but she was predictable.
**[System Alert: Balance Check... Passed.]**
**[Technique: Fluid Seat applied.]**
"Yah!" Li Wei shouted, digging his heels in.
Red Wind crow-hopped across the corral, slipping on the frost but recovering instantly. She spun, she bucked, she reared. But Li Wei was glued to her back.
Zhao Feng watched, the wood carving forgotten in his hand. His mouth hung open. He had seen soldiers thrown from horses with far less vigor. But the young master... he moved like he was part of the beast.
Finally, after a solid five minutes of rebellion, Red Wind stopped. She stood in the center of the corral, lathered in sweat, her sides heaving. Her head dropped low.
She realized she couldn't throw him. The human was the leader now.
Li Wei patted her neck, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Good girl. I knew you had it in you."
He dismounted smoothly.
"Bring the rope, Zhao Feng," Li Wei said, leading the mare to a post. "Now that we have a horse, we need to finish the fence. And today, we do it the cowboy way."
***
The definition of "cowboy way" became clear very quickly.
Li Wei didn't just want a fence of stacked rocks and thorns anymore. He wanted strength. He wanted to clear the heavy brush and deadwood from the northern edge of the slope.
Usually, this would take days of backbreaking labor with axes and saws.
Li Wei tied a long, thick rope to the deadwood logs that were half-buried in the mud. He tied the other end to the horn of his makeshift saddle—wrapping it around the pommel of the folded wolf pelt.
He mounted Red Wind.
"Pull!"
He urged the horse forward.
Red Wind leaned into the collar of the rope, her powerful hindquarters digging into the earth. The deadwood groaned, then snapped free from the mud. It skidded across the snow, a massive log that would have taken four men to carry.
"Move it to the south fence!" Li Wei shouted, riding the mare as she dragged the log across the slope.
Zhao Feng ran alongside, unhitching the logs and stacking them. They worked like a machine. Li Wei would drag the timber; Zhao Feng would stack it.
They cleared in one hour what would have taken a week.
"This..." Zhao Feng panted, wiping mud from his face, "...is cheating. This is sorcery."
"This is leverage," Li Wei corrected, patting the mare's sweating neck. "This is how the West was won, Zhao Feng. Or... the North, in our case."
By late afternoon, the northern perimeter of the Barren Slope was enclosed by a sturdy, six-foot high log fence. It was rough, but it was impenetrable to wolves or wandering thieves.
As they were securing the last post, Li Wei heard a shout from the bottom of the hill.
"Wei! Wei!"
It was his little brother, Li An. The boy was running up the slope, clutching a piece of paper in his hand. He was out of breath, his face flushed.
"Brother! The Village Head... he's back!"
Li Wei stopped the horse. "Already? I thought he'd wait a few days to lick his wounds."
"He's not alone!" Li An gasped, handing over the paper. "He brought the County Scribe! They are measuring the land! They say... they say you lied about the lease!"
Li Wei took the paper. It was a notice of *Land Reclamation Audit*.
"What?" Zhao Feng snarled, gripping his cleaver. "He wants to measure the land? It's ours!"
Li Wei scanned the document. "It says here that if the leased wasteland is not 'significantly reclaimed' within thirty days of signing, the government reserves the right to revoke the lease and refund the deposit. Standard anti-speculation clause."
He looked at his watch. "We signed twelve days ago. He's trying to use a technicality to steal it back before we can improve it."
He looked at the fence they had just built. It was good, but it only covered a quarter of the fifty *mu*.
"How much land have we cleared?" Li Wei asked.
"Maybe ten *mu*," Zhao Feng estimated. "The rest is still thorns."
Li Wei crumpled the paper in his fist. "He thinks he has us. He thinks we're just playing in the mud."
He looked at the Brachiaria patch. It was small. Too small to count as 'significant reclamation' in the eyes of a corrupt scribe.
"We need to improvise," Li Wei said. He turned Red Wind around. "Zhao Feng, grab the hoe. An, you go to the shed and bring out the King."
"The bull?" Li An squeaked.
"Yes. Bring him out. We're going to put on a show."
***
They met the inspection party at the entrance to the slope.
Headman Wang was there, looking smug in his blue robe. Beside him stood a thin man with a goatee and a long measuring rod—the County Scribe. Two guards stood by, looking bored.
"Ah, Li Wei," Headman Wang simpered. "I hope you don't mind. The County is simply ensuring that public land isn't being hoarded by... unproductive tenants."
The Scribe sniffed the air. "This land is supposed to be under active cultivation. I see nothing but rocks and thorns. Where is the plowing? Where are the crops?"
"There are no crops," Li Wei said, dismounting from Red Wind. "Because this is a ranch. Crops are for valleys. Grass is for hills."
"Grass?" The Scribe looked around at the barren, frozen earth. "I see dead weeds. According to the statute, for a lease to hold, at least twenty percent of the land must be cleared and productive."
He tapped his measuring rod on the ground. "This? This is five percent at best. I'm afraid, Headman Wang, you were right. This land is idle. We must revoke the lease."
Headman Wang hid a smile behind his sleeve. "A tragedy, truly. But rules are rules."
"Wait," Li Wei stepped forward. "You want to see productive? Look down."
He pointed to the ground near their feet.
The Scribe frowned and looked down.
There, poking through the snow, were tiny shoots of green. Li Wei had instructed Zhao Feng to scatter the *seeds* of the Brachiaria (saved from the harvest) across the cleared areas just an hour ago.
"Grass seeds," Li Wei said. "We are in the process of 'overseeding'. A method of winter farming. The grass is establishing its roots now. By spring, this entire hill will be green."
"Seeds don't count!" the Scribe snapped. "I need to see growth! Established growth!"
"Then look there," Li Wei pointed to the shed.
Zhao Feng led the King out.
The bull stood massive and imposing. His coat gleamed. He looked healthy, powerful, and heavy.
"This is a breeding station," Li Wei announced. "We are not growing *plants* for harvest. We are growing *meat*. This bull is the result of our reclamation. We cleared the thorns to house him. We cleared the rocks to exercise him. This land is productive."
The Scribe blinked. He hadn't expected a bull. The animal looked expensive.
The Scribe looked at the bull, then at the fence. "A fence... that counts as improvement. And the animal... is livestock tax paid on this beast?"
"Paid in full at the market yesterday," Li Wei lied smoothly—he had paid the sales tax when buying the bull, so it was true.
The Scribe hesitated. Revoking a lease from a man who owned a high-quality bull was different than revoking it from a peasant with a hoe. A bull meant capital. Capital meant connections.
"The fence is... adequate," the Scribe muttered. "And the overseeding... if it takes root..."
"It will take root," Li Wei said. "And if the County returns in spring, they will see a herd. But if you revoke the lease now, you are stealing a taxpayer's investment. Do you want to explain to the Magistrate why you drove a taxpayer out of the county?"
He played his card. He knew the Magistrate cared about two things: taxes and stability.
Headman Wang stepped forward. "Scribe, this boy is a liar! The land is barren! He's tricking you!"
"Silence, Wang," the Scribe snapped, annoyed by the Headman's whining. He looked at Li Wei. "You have until the spring thaw. If this 'ranch' is not fully operational by then—fences complete, herd established—I will personally sign the eviction notice."
"Understood," Li Wei bowed. "Safe travels, Scribe."
The Scribe turned and walked away, his guards following. Headman Wang lingered, glaring at Li Wei with pure venom.
"You think you're clever, boy," Wang hissed. "But spring is a long way off. A lot can happen to a bull... or a boy."
"Get off my land, Wang," Li Wei said, his voice low. He didn't shout. He didn't threaten. He just stared.
Wang spat on the ground and stormed off.
Zhao Feng let out a long breath. "That was close."
"It was," Li Wei admitted. "We bought ourselves two months. But now we have to deliver. We need to turn this rock pile into a real ranch, fast."
He turned to look at the hill. The sun was setting, painting the Barren Slope in shades of purple and gold.
"We need more hands," Li Wei said. "And we need to start making money. Real money."
He looked at Red Wind, then at the King.
"Tomorrow," Li Wei said. "We start selling the brand. The Li Family Ranch is officially open for business."