The height of summer brought a sweltering heat that turned the Wasteland into a steaming cauldron. The grass grew wild and tall, a sea of green that rippled in the humid wind. But inside the Chen family compound, the air was thick with a different kind of energy—the rhythmic, industrial pulse of production.
*Thump. Thump. Thump.*
The sound of the heavy mallet pounding leather echoes across the courtyard.
Chen Yuan had transformed the main shed into a makeshift factory. The "Rancher Brand" leatherworks were in full swing.
Zhang Dahu and his brothers, usually tasked with clearing brush, were now hunched over heavy logs, pounding oil into cowhide. Wang Shi sat at the head of the table, her needle flying, stitching the intricate belt loops. Even Little Ming, when not studying, was put to work burnishing the edges of the belts with a smooth bone tool.
"Check the stitching on batch four," Chen Yuan commanded, inspecting a finished belt. He pulled it taut, listening for any creak of the thread. "The army doesn't accept loose work."
"Three thousand stitches per belt, just like you said," Wang Shi replied, wiping sweat from her brow. She looked tired, but her eyes were sharp. "We have fifty belts done. And twenty pairs of boots."
"Good," Chen Yuan said, placing the belt in the crate. "We deliver tomorrow. The silver from this batch will buy us another iron plow and... maybe a bull."
He walked outside to the "drying yard." Rows of leather strips hung in the sun, curing and hardening. The smell of tannin, cedar oil, and sweat was pungent.
It was a good smell. It smelled like money.
---
In the corner of the yard, Little Ming was not working. He was kneeling by the well, holding a long, marked bamboo pole.
"Four feet, two inches," he muttered, pulling the wet pole out. He made a mark on a slate tablet.
Chen Yuan walked over. "Still tracking the water?"
"The Steward's 'Geomancer' claimed we lowered the table," Ming said, standing up and wiping his hands on his robe. "He lied. The water level is actually *higher* than it was last month. The drainage improved the recharge rate of the aquifer."
He tapped the slate. "Data doesn't lie, Brother. If Liu tries to bring a wizard to court again, I will drown him in numbers."
Chen Yuan ruffled his brother's hair. "That's my boy. Keep recording. We need to be ready for anything."
He left Ming to his science and walked toward the pasture.
The herd was thriving in the heat.
Hope, the cow, stood in the shade of the willow trees, swishing her tail lazily. Little Iron, the calf, was a sight to behold. In just a few weeks, he had doubled in size. He was no longer a wobbly infant; he was a sturdy, compact tank of muscle. His coat was sleek and dark, shining with health.
He was currently butting heads with one of the goat kids. The goat would charge, bounce off Iron's forehead, and go tumbling. Iron would just snort and paw the ground.
**[Subject: 'Little Iron' (Calf).]**
**[Growth Status: Accelerated (125% of normal rate).]**
**[Muscle Density: Exceptional.]**
**[Behavior: Dominant. Displays early leadership traits.]**
"He's going to be a boss," Xu Tie said, leaning on the fence beside Chen Yuan. "He already bosses the goats around."
"He thinks he's bigger than he is," Chen Yuan smiled. "How's Whirlwind?"
The chestnut mare was in the adjacent paddock. She stood calmly while Dahu brushed her coat. The transformation was complete. She was no longer a biting, kicking demon. She was a sleek, disciplined mount.
"She's bored," Xu Tie said. "She needs to run."
"They all need to work," Chen Yuan said. "A ranch isn't a zoo."
---
The opportunity for work arrived sooner than expected.
Two days later, a cloud of dust appeared on the road. It wasn't a patrol. It was a chaotic, noisy procession.
A squad of soldiers was struggling to drive a herd of about twenty horses down the road. The horses were wild—steppe ponies, likely captured or traded from the border tribes. They were small, shaggy, and terrified. They reared, bit, and pulled back against the lead ropes.
The Lieutenant Chen Yuan had met before—the one with the scar—was red-faced with frustration. His men were exhausted.
"Hold the line! Don't let them bolt!" the Lieutenant roared.
But the horses were panicking. One bit a soldier's arm, drawing blood. Another kicked a supply cart, splintering the wheel. The column ground to a halt right in front of the Wasteland gate.
Chen Yuan walked out, followed by Xu Tie.
"Trouble, Lieutenant?"
The Lieutenant looked up, relieved to see a familiar face. "These accursed animals! They're remounts for the cavalry scouts. But they're wild! My men can't even get saddles on them without being trampled. We lost three riders this morning."
He looked at the Wasteland, specifically at the corral.
"I heard... I heard you broke the Red Witch. In a week."
"I did," Chen Yuan said.
"I have twenty of these devils," the Lieutenant said desperately. "And I have a deadline to deliver them to the forward camp. If I show up with unbroken horses, I'll be demoted. Can you help?"
Chen Yuan looked at the terrified, sweaty horses. They were in rough shape, but they were tough. Steppe ponies had incredible endurance.
"I can help," Chen Yuan said. "But I'm not a charity."
"Name your price."
"I keep the manure they produce while they're here," Chen Yuan said. "And... you let me keep the pick of the litter. The one horse I can't break."
The Lieutenant looked at the chaotic herd. "If you can break them, you can have the whole herd for all I care! But you have three days. We leave on the fourth morning."
"Deal."
---
The next three days were a blur of dust, sweat, and equine psychology.
Chen Yuan didn't use force. He used the "Round Pen" method. He had Dahu and his brothers build a temporary circular pen using the spare fencing.
One by one, he brought the wild ponies in.
The technique was simple but exhausting. *Drive the horse. Make them run. Keep their eye on you. Pressure and release.*
When the horse looked at him, he dropped the pressure. When they ignored him, he drove them.
It was a dance. A conversation in body language.
The soldiers watched from the fence, stunned. They were used to the "bucking bronco" method—cowboys tying the horse down and beating it into submission. Chen Yuan's method was... quiet.
He stood in the center of the pen with a wild, grey stallion. The horse snorted, circling him, looking for a way out.
Chen Yuan didn't stare at the horse. He looked at the ground, keeping his shoulders relaxed.
The horse stopped. It turned its head, ears forward. *What are you? Why aren't you chasing me?*
Chen Yuan dropped the coiled rope. He turned his back.
The horse took a step forward. Then another. It stretched its neck and sniffed Chen Yuan's shoulder.
Chen Yuan slowly reached up and scratched the horse's withers.
The horse let out a long, shuddering breath. The tension left its body. It lowered its head.
"Next," Chen Yuan said softly.
By the end of day two, fifteen horses were gentled. They were following the soldiers like puppies, accepting saddles and bits without a fight.
But there was one left. The "Pick of the Litter."
It was a massive black stallion, larger than the others. He was mean. He didn't just want to escape; he wanted to fight. He had already bitten a chunk out of the fence rail.
"He's the one," Xu Tie said, watching the black horse pace. "The Lieutenant promised him to you if you could break him."
"He's not for breaking," Chen Yuan said, narrowing his eyes. "He's for respect."
**[System Analysis: Subject: 'Black Mountain' (Stallion).]**
**[Breed: Heavy Steppe Warhorse.]**
**[Temperament: Dominant. Aggressive.]**
**[Trust Level: 0%.]**
Chen Yuan entered the round pen.
The black horse didn't run. He spun and faced Chen Yuan, teeth bared. He charged.
Chen Yuan stood his ground until the last second, then dodged, slapping the horse on the flank with the rope as he passed.
*Move! I control the feet!*
The horse skidded to a stop, furious. He kicked out with both back legs, missing Chen Yuan by inches.
"You're strong," Chen Yuan said, panting. "But I'm smarter."
He drove the horse. He made him run. And run. And run.
For an hour, the pen was a whirlwind of dust and thunder. Chen Yuan was exhausted. His legs burned. His lungs ached.
Finally, the black horse slowed. He was breathing hard, his black coat soaked in sweat. He stopped in the center of the pen.
He didn't look at Chen Yuan. He stared at the ground.
Chen Yuan stepped closer. The horse flinched but didn't strike.
Chen Yuan reached out. He touched the horse's nose.
The black horse didn't bite. He just exhaled.
**[Trust Level increased to 20%.]**
**[Subject 'Black Mountain' acknowledges Host as Alpha.]**
"Good boy," Chen Yuan whispered.
He didn't push his luck. He didn't try to ride him. He just stood there, breathing with the horse, establishing the bond.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Chen Yuan said.
---
On the morning of the fourth day, the Lieutenant returned.
He found his remount herd standing in neat lines, saddled and bridled, eating hay calmly. His soldiers looked at Chen Yuan with a mixture of awe and fear.
"By the Heavens," the Lieutenant whispered. "You actually did it."
"They're ready," Chen Yuan said. He looked tired but satisfied. "They'll still be green, so go easy on the spurs. But they won't buck you off."
"And the black one?" The Lieutenant pointed to the corral where the black stallion was standing. "Did you break him?"
"No," Chen Yuan said. "We reached an agreement."
He walked to the corral. He opened the gate. The black stallion walked out. He stood still while Chen Yuan mounted him—bareback, as he had no saddle big enough.
Chen Yuan nudged him with his heels.
The black horse walked forward. Then trotted. He was smooth, powerful, and proud.
Chen Yuan rode him around the yard. He didn't gallop. He didn't need to. The control was absolute.
He rode back to the Lieutenant and dismounted.
"He's mine," Chen Yuan said.
The Lieutenant nodded. "A deal is a deal. You earned him. He's a monster, but... he seems to like you."
"He respects me," Chen Yuan corrected. "Safe travels, Lieutenant."
The army column moved out, driving the now-docile herd of ponies toward the front lines.
Chen Yuan watched them go. He now had two horses. A fast one (Whirlwind) and a strong one (Black Mountain).
He turned to his family.
"Dahu! Clear the manure from the pens! We have fertilizer for the south pasture!"
"On it, Boss!"
The Wasteland was busy again.
---
That evening, Chen Yuan sat on the porch of the lean-to. The summer crickets were chirping. The fireflies danced over the grass.
Little Iron was sleeping next to his mother. The goats were quiet.
Chen Yuan looked at his hands. They were scarred, dirty, and calloused.
*I have a ranch,* he thought. *I have a herd. I have horses. I have a contract.*
He looked at the black stallion, standing tall in the moonlight.
"We're building an empire, boy," he said to the horse. "One hoofprint at a time."
The horse snorted, as if in agreement.
The summer was ending. Autumn was coming. And with it, the harvest. But for now, in the quiet of the night, Chen Yuan allowed himself to feel a moment of pride.
They had survived the summer rush. They were stronger than ever.