The walk from the dilapidated side courtyard to the main hall of the Magistrate's residence felt less like a stroll and more like a gauntlet.
Li Wei walked with his hands clasped behind his back, his posture straight—a stark contrast to the previous Li Wei, who had shuffled along with his head bowed, trying to make himself as small as possible. Beside him, little Li Sheng scampered nervously, his eyes darting around like a frightened sparrow.
"Brother, maybe we should wait," Li Sheng whispered, tugging at Li Wei's sleeve. "Sister-in-law is in the main hall. She... she is in a bad mood."
"Perfect," Li Wei said calmly. "I prefer efficiency."
As they passed through the moon gate leading to the central garden, the chatter of the servants died down. Maids sweeping the stone paths paused, their eyes tracking the "useless son-in-law" with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.
"Look, the young master is up before noon," a maid whispered to another, her voice carrying clearly in the morning air. "Perhaps the disgrace at the banquet last night finally knocked some sense into him."
"I heard he cried himself to sleep," another giggled. "Poor Magistrate Zhao, raising two mouths that only eat and never work."
Li Sheng flushed red, his fists clenching. "You—!"
"Let it go, Sheng," Li Wei said softly, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. He didn't even glance at the servants. In his previous life, he had weathered boardroom politics and corporate backstabbing; the gossip of household servants was merely background noise. "A lion does not concern himself with the opinions of sheep."
Li Sheng blinked, looking up at his brother in awe. The old Li Wei would have flushed with shame and stammered an excuse to leave. This Li Wei was cool, unbothered. The boy slowly unclenched his fists and nodded, straightening his own spine to mimic his brother.
They reached the main hall just as breakfast was concluding.
The hall was spacious and airy, furnished with sturdy rosewood tables and calligraphy scrolls hanging on the pillars. At the head of the table sat Magistrate Zhao Rong, a man in his early fifties with a neatly trimmed beard and kind, tired eyes. He was sipping congee, a stack of official documents already waiting beside his bowl.
To his right sat the woman Li Wei had seen in his memories—the woman who was now his wife.
Zhao Qingyu.
She was even more striking in the daylight. She wore a pale green dress embroidered with lotus patterns, her hair pinned up with a single jade hairpin. Her face was a mask of serene beauty, but her eyes—dark, intelligent, and piercing—betrayed a sharpness that could cut glass. She was reviewing a household ledger, her brush moving swiftly, ignoring the food in front of her.
As Li Wei entered, the air in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.
"Father," Li Wei said, bowing respectfully. He did not kneel; he was a son-in-law, not a servant. "Good morning."
Zhao Rong looked up, surprise flickering across his face. He quickly masked it with a polite nod. "Wei-er. You are awake. I heard you... overindulged last night. Are you well?"
"A momentary lapse, Father. I am fully recovered," Li Wei said. He turned slightly toward the woman at the table. "Wife."
Zhao Qingyu didn't look up from her ledger. Her brush continued to dance across the paper, the scratch of the bristles loud in the silence. It was a deliberate, calculated insult—a silent treatment refined to an art form.
Li Wei didn't flinch. He simply stood there, waiting with the patience of a mountain.
Finally, after a long, uncomfortable minute, Zhao Qingyu set her brush down. She raised her head, her expression cool.
"If you are here to ask for money to buy more wine, the answer is no," she said, her voice crisp and melodic. "The autumn taxes are due, and the county granary is low. We have no surplus to fund your leisure."
Li Sheng shrank back, but Li Wei smiled. It wasn't a mocking smile, but one of understanding.
"I do not want money for wine, Wife," Li Wei said. "I want a loan."
Zhao Rong frowned. "A loan? Whatever for?"
Li Wei took a deep breath. This was the pitch. "Father, I would like to borrow fifty taels of silver."
The silence that followed was absolute.
"Fifty taels?" Zhao Rong's hand froze halfway to his teacup.
Even Zhao Qingyu's composure cracked slightly; her eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch. "Have you lost your mind?" she asked, her voice dropping to an icy hiss. "That is half a year's worth of household expenses. A common laborer earns perhaps ten taels a year. You want five years' worth of a man's labor?"
"Fifty taels is a modest sum for an investment," Li Wei countered smoothly. "Especially when the collateral is the wasteland to the west."
"The Westland?" Zhao Rong asked, confused. "That barren hillside? Nothing grows there but weeds and thorns. The soil is too rocky for wheat, and it is too dry for rice. It is worthless."
"To the plow, yes," Li Wei agreed. "But not to the herd."
He stepped forward, his eyes locking with the Magistrate's.
"Father, you know the laws of the Great Liang Dynasty. The farmland is taxed heavily, but untamed wasteland pays only a nominal land tax. You own that land, yet it sits empty, bleeding a small tax every year while giving nothing back."
"I have tried to rent it out," Zhao Rong sighed. "No farmer wants it. The cost of terracing the hills is too high."
"Then don't farm it," Li Wei said. "Graze it."
Zhao Qingyu scoffed, a delicate sound that dripped with disdain. "Grazing? We are not nomads from the northern steppes, Li Wei. We are a civilized household. And even if we kept sheep, the wool market is saturated. You would lose everything within a season."
"I do not intend to raise sheep alone," Li Wei said, turning his gaze to her. "I intend to raise cattle."
"Cattle?" Zhao Rong sat up straighter, his interest piqued but his skepticism deepening. "Oxen are for plowing. A good plow ox is expensive, but breeding them requires vast amounts of fodder and years of patience. Farmers buy oxen at three years old. It is a slow business."
Li Wei felt the 'System' pulse in the back of his mind. He needed to be careful not to sound insane. He couldn't talk about marbling or steak houses yet. He had to speak their language.
"I am not talking about merely breeding plow oxen," Li Wei lied smoothly—he *was* going to breed plow oxen, but that was just the beginning. "I am talking about breeding *better* plow oxen. The local yellow cattle are small and weak. They tire easily in the mud. I have... read of techniques from the far west, beyond the deserts. Selective breeding. I can produce oxen that are larger, stronger, and eat less."
He omitted the part where "larger and stronger" also meant "more meat."
"And the risk?" Zhao Qingyu asked, leaning forward. Her eyes searched his face, looking for the deception, the laziness she knew so well. "If you fail? If the cattle die? That fifty taels is gone. Poof. Into the wind."
"Then I will work it off," Li Wei said simply. "If I fail, I will sign a contract. I will work as a servant in this house for ten years, twenty years, until the debt is paid. I will forfeit my status as a son-in-law and become a laborer. I will sign it in blood if you wish."
The room went silent again. The offer was heavy. It was a gamble with his very dignity.
Li Sheng gasped. "Brother, no!"
Zhao Rong looked at Li Wei with a complex expression. He saw a man he had pitied for years, a man who had always shrunk from responsibility, suddenly standing tall and offering his neck on the chopping block. It stirred the Magistrate's sense of duty—and his curiosity.
"Fifty taels is a large sum," Zhao Rong said slowly. "But if you are willing to stake your future on it..."
"Father!" Zhao Qingyu interjected. "This is madness. He knows nothing of agriculture. He is a scholar—or he tries to be. He has never even held a hoe."
"Then I will learn," Li Wei said, not breaking eye contact with her. "Wife, you look at me and see a leech. A burden. A man who eats your rice and gives you nothing but shame. You are right to despise that man."
He took a step closer to the table.
"But I am asking for a chance to be something else. Not for your love, or your pity. But for the chance to prove that I am not worthless. Give me the money. Give me the Westland. If I fail, you are rid of a useless husband and gain a loyal servant for life. If I succeed... the Zhao family gains a fortune, and I gain my pride."
He held out his hand, palm open. It was a gesture of desperate courage.
Zhao Qingyu stared at his hand. She looked at the calluses—faint, from holding a brush, not a tool. She looked at his eyes. They were dark, steady, and burning with a fire she had never seen in the weak-willed man she had married three years ago.
For a moment, a flicker of hesitation crossed her mind. *Has he changed?*
She crushed the thought. Men always promised the moon when they wanted something.
She picked up her brush again, dipped it in ink, and scribbled something on a slip of paper. She blew on the ink to dry it, then flicked it across the table. It slid to a stop in front of Li Wei.
"Thirty taels," she said coldly. "Not fifty. I will not risk fifty on a dream."
Li Wei looked at the paper. It was a promissory note from her personal dowry funds.
"And," she added, her voice sharpening, "you will sign a contract. The terms you stated. Failure means servitude. You have one year. If you cannot show a profit or a substantial herd by next autumn, I will have the contract enforced."
"Deal," Li Wei said instantly. He picked up the note. It was heavy in his hand, not because of the paper, but because of the hope it represented.
"Thank you, Wife," he said, bowing deeply.
Zhao Qingyu turned her face away, returning to her ledger. "Do not thank me. I am simply cutting our losses. One way or another, the Zhao family will stop carrying dead weight. Now leave. Your breathing disturbs my concentration."
Li Wei didn't argue. He tucked the note into his sleeve and turned to his brother, whose face was pale with terror but wide-eyed with awe.
"Come, Sheng," Li Wei said, a genuine grin touching his lips as they walked out. "We have cattle to buy."
Behind them, Zhao Rong sighed and rubbed his temples. "Qingyu... was that too harsh?"
"He is a fool, Father," she murmured, though her brush hesitated above the ledger, leaving a small blot of ink. "A fool who has suddenly forgotten how to be afraid."
***
Outside the hall, Li Wei let out a long breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His hands were shaking slightly. The confrontation had taken more out of him than the heart attack.
"Brother," Li Sheng whispered frantically. "Thirty taels? That's... that's a fortune! And you bet your freedom! If you lose..."
"We won't lose," Li Wei said, his voice low and intense. He looked at the system prompt that had reappeared in his vision.
**[Mission Update: Capital Acquired. 30 Silver Taels secured.]**
**[New Quest: Purchase Initial Herd.]**
**[Requirements: 1 Bull, 5 Cows, 2 Horses.]**
**[Warning: Funds are tight. Strategic purchasing required.]**
"Thirty taels isn't enough for quality," Li Sheng worried, his mind already doing the math. "A good plow ox is at least ten taels. A horse? Twenty taels! We can't afford a horse and cattle!"
Li Wei chuckled. "Who said we are buying *good* ones, Sheng?"
"Huh?"
"We are going to the market," Li Wei said, striding toward the gate with renewed purpose. "We are going to buy the sick, the old, the weak, and the unwanted. The ones the farmers are desperate to sell for meat."
"But Brother! You said you wanted to breed strong cattle!"
Li Wei tapped his temple. "I have a secret weapon, Sheng. I don't need perfect cows. I just need *alive* cows. Trust me."
The sun was high now, beating down on the dusty streets of Qinghe County. Li Wei adjusted his robes. He had thirty taels of silver, a piece of barren land, and a system that could analyze genetics.
It was time to build a ranch.