The morning after the Magistrate's plaque was nailed to the gate, Chen Yuan gathered the family in the courtyard. He held a stick of charcoal and a flat piece of wood, on which he had sketched a rough diagram.
"The Bachelor Pad was a temporary fix," he began, tapping the wood. "Little Iron is settled, but we need to think about the dairy side. We are selling beef, yes, but the goats are producing milk, and Hope will calve again next year. We need a dedicated space."
He pointed to the clearing behind the new stone stable.
"We build a Milking Barn. Not a shed. A barn. With a raised platform for the animals to stand on, a drainage channel for the wash water, and a clean room for storing the buckets and filters."
"Raised platform?" Wang Shi asked, squinting at the drawing. "Why raise them?"
"Because a clean udder means clean milk," Chen Yuan explained. "If the cow stands in mud and manure, the milk gets contaminated. We want to sell premium milk to the town, not dirty water that sours in a day."
He looked at Zhang Dahu. "We have the stone from the quarry. We have the timber from the hill. We start digging the foundation today."
---
The construction of the Milking Barn was a lesson in hygiene and efficiency.
Chen Yuan marked out a rectangle thirty feet by twenty feet. He insisted on a cement-like floor—a mixture of lime, sand, and broken tiles pounded into the earth, then smoothed over with a layer of fine clay mixed with ox blood. It dried hard and waterproof, easy to scrub.
"Elevate the gutters," Chen Yuan instructed Xu Tie, who was overseeing the carpentry. "A slope of one inch for every four feet. The water runs out, not in."
They built four stanchions—wooden frames that held the cow or goat's head in place while they were milked. It prevented the animal from walking away or stepping in the bucket.
"Comfortable?" Father asked, watching Dahu test the stanchion with a goat. The goat stood still, eating hay from the attached manger.
"She can't move," Dahu noted. "Much easier than chasing her around the pen."
"Happy animal, happy milk," Chen Yuan said.
By the end of the week, the barn stood complete. It smelled of fresh wood and lime. It was bright, airy, and most importantly, clean.
Chen Yuan stood in the center of the aisle, hands on his hips.
"Now," he said, "we just need more animals to fill it."
---
Two days later, a visitor arrived at the gate.
It was Old Man Li, the village elder whose pigsty Chen Yuan had saved from the plague. He looked older, his face weathered by the summer sun, but his step was determined. He led a yellow cow on a rope.
The cow was a decent-looking animal—local breed, slightly underweight, but with a good frame.
"Chen Yuan," Li greeted him, touching the brim of his hat. "I have a matter to discuss."
"Uncle Li," Chen Yuan bowed. "What brings you here? Is the herd well?"
"The herd is fine, thanks to your lime powder. But this..." He patted the cow's flank. "This is 'Flower'. My best cow. I want a calf from her."
"We can trade calves in the spring," Chen Yuan offered. "We usually—"
"No," Li interrupted. "I don't want just any calf. I want *that* calf."
He pointed toward the upper pasture, where Little Iron was grazing.
Little Iron was now eight months old. He stood like a monument among the scrub brush. His dark coat gleamed, his muscles rolled under his skin with every step. He looked less like a calf and more like a miniature bull.
"I saw him when I brought the lime," Li said, his voice dropping. "He's a king beast, Chen Yuan. My Flower... she is a good cow. But her calves are small. Weak. I want strong genes. I want a calf that looks like *him*."
Chen Yuan was silent. Little Iron was his breeding stock, the foundation of his future herd. Letting his genetics out into the village was a risk. If everyone had a "Little Iron," his monopoly on premium beef would weaken.
"I know it's a lot to ask," Li continued, seeing Chen Yuan's hesitation. "But I am willing to pay."
"Pay?" Xu Tie spoke up from the fence. "Stud fees are rare for cattle. Usually, we just trade labor or feed."
"I will pay in silver," Li said firmly. "Two taels."
Two taels. It was a significant sum—half a year's wages for a laborer.
"Uncle Li," Chen Yuan said slowly. "Little Iron is young. Barely eight months. He's... capable, but unproven."
"I'll take the risk," Li said. "If the calf is weak, I won't blame you. If it's strong... well, we both profit."
Chen Yuan looked at the old man. Li had been a fair neighbor. He had supported the village during the road crisis. And his request was a sign of respect—he believed in the ranch's quality.
"Two taels," Chen Yuan agreed. "But I have conditions. The calf is yours to raise. But if it is a bull, and if it is strong... I get the first right of refusal to buy it back when it's weaned."
"Agreed," Li nodded eagerly. "And I want the... procedure... done today. She's in heat now."
---
The "procedure"—mating—was a natural act, but it required supervision.
Chen Yuan led Flower, Old Man Li's cow, into the upper pasture. Little Iron was grazing near the spring.
The moment the bull caught the scent of the cow in heat, he stopped. He lifted his head, nostrils flaring. He let out a low, rumbling bellow that vibrated in Chen Yuan's chest.
"Easy, boy," Chen Yuan murmured. "Guest."
Little Iron approached Flower. He didn't charge or panic. He sniffed her, circling her with a swaggering confidence that seemed almost comical for an eight-month-old calf.
"He's... enthusiastic," Xu Tie observed dryly.
"He knows his job."
They watched as nature took its course. It was quick, efficient, and primal. Little Iron proved he was indeed "capable."
Afterward, Little Iron strutted back to his grazing, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Flower stood placidly, munching on grass.
"Done," Chen Yuan said to Old Man Li. "Bring her back in a week to check if she settles. If not, we try again for free."
"Thank you, Chen Yuan," Li said, pressing the two taels of silver into Chen Yuan's hand. "You are an honest man."
"I'm a businessman," Chen Yuan corrected with a smile. "And I want to see that calf."
As Li led Flower away, Chen Yuan weighed the silver in his hand.
"Two taels," he muttered. "For five minutes of work."
"Five months of feeding," Xu Tie corrected. "And ten years of breeding."
"True."
Chen Yuan tucked the silver away. It would go toward buying two more milk goats for the new barn.
---
Summer faded into autumn.
The air turned crisp, the leaves on the willows turned gold, and the ryegrass in the pastures began to dry, standing tall and ready for the final cut.
The ranch was a hive of activity. The harvest was coming in—the village's millet and wheat were being reaped, and the ranch's hay barns were filling up.
Chen Yuan stood on the hill, watching the workers stack the hay. The new Milking Barn was already in use; the goats were being milked there twice a day, and the yield was up—cleaner conditions meant less waste and better prices in town.
Little Iron was growing bigger by the day. He had serviced two more village cows since Old Man Li's visit, earning the ranch another three taels in stud fees. The "Bachelor Pad" was becoming known as the "King's Court."
"Yuan!"
A shout came from the road.
He turned. A cart was approaching. A familiar figure sat atop the luggage.
Little Ming was home.
---
The Harvest Festival (Mid-Autumn) was a time for family.
Ming jumped off the cart before it stopped. He looked different—taller, broader in the shoulder. The scholar's robe was gone, replaced by a simpler tunic for travel.
"Brother!"
"Ming!"
They clasped arms. Ming's grip was stronger than before.
"You've been working out?" Chen Yuan teased.
"Military classics," Ming grinned. "They make us train with the bow and the sword at the Academy. 'A scholar must be strong in body and mind.' I can now hit a target at fifty paces."
"Show me later."
They walked toward the house. The family poured out—Mother, Father, Wang Shi, the children. The noise level rose as Ming was hugged and fussed over.
"You're thin!" Mother cried.
"I'm the same size, Mother!"
"Your face is sharp! Too much reading, not enough eating."
Dinner was a feast. Not just the smoked beef, but fresh pumpkin, roasted chicken, and mooncakes bought from the town bakery.
They sat in the courtyard under the full moon. Lanterns hung from the eaves, casting a warm glow.
"So," Chen Yuan asked, pouring wine for Ming. "How is the Academy?"
Ming swirled the wine in his cup. "Hard. The competition is fierce. But... I am holding my own. My tutor, Master Zhou, is strict. He says my writing has 'grit', but my style is 'rough'. He wants me to smooth it out."
"Smooth is boring," Chen Yuan said.
"That's what I told him," Ming laughed. "He wasn't pleased. But he respects the honesty."
He looked at the ranch—the stone stable, the milking barn, the pastures.
"You've changed things," Ming said softly. "The plaque on the gate. The House of Lin bowing. The stud fees."
"We adapted," Chen Yuan said. "The world pushes, we push back."
"And the bull? Little Iron?"
"Growing. He's a King now. The village pays us to use him."
Ming smiled. "Good. Next year... I plan to take the Provincial Exam. To become a Juren."
"Next year?"
"I need to study more. But the headmaster says I have a chance. A small one, but a chance."
Chen Yuan raised his cup. "Then we will prepare. Whatever you need—books, bribes, travel money—tell me."
"I need silence," Ming joked. "And maybe some of that smoked beef. It helps me think."
"You'll have a barrel of it."
---
Later that night, after the family had gone to bed, Chen Yuan and Ming sat by the corral. General lay at their feet, snoring.
"Brother," Ming said quietly, staring at the moon. "I met someone at the Academy."
"Oh?" Chen Yuan raised an eyebrow. "A girl?"
Ming choked on his spit. "No! A... a connection. The Magistrate's other son. The eldest one. Li Wei. He is a secretary in the prefecture city. He visited the Academy last month."
"What is he like?"
"Cold. Sharp. Ambitious." Ming paused. "He asked about the ranch. He asked about the 'smoked beef'. He said... he heard his brother Li Cheng praising it."
"Is that good or bad?"
"I don't know," Ming admitted. "But having the attention of *both* sons of the Magistrate... it's a double-edged sword. Li Cheng is impulsive and proud. Li Wei is calculating. He might want to use us."
"Let him try," Chen Yuan said. "We are a faction now, Ming. We use what we have. If Li Wei wants beef, he pays. If he wants leverage, he finds it elsewhere."
He patted Ming's shoulder.
"You focus on the exam. I'll handle the politicians."
Ming nodded. "I'll pass, Yuan. I swear it. I'll make us a Juren family. Then... no one can touch us."
"Get some sleep," Chen Yuan said, standing up. "Tomorrow, you're helping me dig a drainage ditch."
Ming groaned. "I thought I was a scholar!"
"Scholars dig too. Especially in the Chen family."
Ming laughed and lay back on the grass, staring at the moon.
It was a good harvest. The best one yet.