Lin Feng tapped lightly on the door, a rhythmic series of knocks echoing through the wood.

Knock, knock, knock.

A creak, and the wooden door swung open.

Behind it was a small head and half a timid face.

Beth.

Lin Feng looked down. Beth instantly looked away, like a fawn that had wandered off the path.

The image flickered through his mind unbidden. Then he spoke. "Good evening, Beth."

"Good evening, Lin."

Beth stepped aside and pulled the door open wider. Four large men and a little girl filed in.

The main house wasn't particularly spacious, but it had a warmth to it, a crucifix and a family portrait hung on the wall. The long table in the center was dressed with small wooden decorations, and the glassware was wiped clean and bright. Whoever kept this house took pride in it.

Hershel stepped out from a back room right on cue, carrying a bottle of what looked like homemade liquor.

"Good evening, Lin. Heard you went out on patrol this afternoon. How does it look?"

"It'll take some time, Mr. Greene."

Hershel understood. A nod. "Then I'll leave it in your hands. Anything you need, just say the word."

Lin Feng nodded. "Will do, Mr. Greene."

Hershel nodded back. So far, Hershel was quite satisfied with Lin Feng, the man fit the impressions Hershel had always carried of people of Chinese descent. Humble, steady, restrained, and low-key. Never the first to pick a fight, but not the type to back down from one either.

Daryl handed two rabbits and a bottle of whiskey over to Hershel, and the group settled into their seats.

Maggie and Beth brought the dishes out one after another. It was a generous spread. Roast chicken, smoked bacon, fried eggs, baked mashed potatoes, a large bowl of salad, cornbread, apple pie, and cheese cubes and milk for the little one.

What Hershel hadn't expected was that Cathy's eyes went straight to the roast chicken and smoked bacon.

That caught Hershel genuinely off guard.

After a brief prayer, dinner began. The atmosphere was reasonably easy.

It helped that Lin Feng had pulled Merle aside beforehand and told Merle plainly to keep it together.

Merle had not been happy about it, not even close. The pushback was sharp. But Lin Feng had one card that could not be argued with.

He'd said one thing: You don't want Daryl out wandering around with just you, do you?

Merle had screeched to a halt. Went quiet. And eventually, with obvious displeasure, agreed.

Lin Feng had breathed out inwardly. Good. Today's handled.

As for the future, well. Daryl Dixon was the ace up his sleeve. Keeping Merle in line was never going to be a problem.

Hershel took a sip of liquor. "Lin, what kind of work did you do before all this?"

Lin Feng paused with the fork just short of his mouth and said without particular interest, "Butcher."

The silverware went noticeably quieter. Several gazes snapped toward him at almost the same moment, each carrying its own weight of thought.

Only Daryl and the others didn't so much as glance up, still focused entirely on eating.

Hershel seemed to settle into understanding. "No wonder you... adapted so quickly."

Lin Feng raised a brow. "Maybe that's part of it. But mostly — I just want to survive. I want to survive together with everyone here."

He paused, then continued, his voice unhurried.

"I want to live. I want to keep my people alive alongside me. Until we're old, until we can barely walk, and we can still sit down together over food and drink and tell the children about everything we went through. All of it. That's all."

His voice wasn't loud. Just enough to carry across the table, and just enough to land somewhere in each of their unsettled chests.

Hershel's eyes went distant for a moment, drifting through memory. Then a slow nod. "On that, you're right." Hershel raised the glass. "To the future."

"To the future."

The glasses touched with a soft clink.

As everyone drank, a small, unblinking gaze settled quietly on Lin Feng from across the table.

This person... maybe wasn't so terrifying after all. Just a little rough around the edges...

Lin Feng's words seemed to crack something open. One by one, people started talking, sharing small pieces of their lives, fragments from before. The conversation found its footing.

Well. Everyone except the tactless one and the quiet one. But the rest of it went easily enough.

Little Cathy in particular had a sweet way about it. Within a short time, old Hershel and Maggie and the others were all smiling, and Cathy's plate kept getting piled higher and higher.

Marcus saw right through every bit of it, though. Without pausing the conversation, Marcus quietly loaded Cathy's plate with a solid portion of vegetable salad.

Cathy's mouth pressed into a small pout. But the vegetables went in anyway, one obedient bite at a time.

Maggie glanced at Lin Feng now and then, then looked away each time just as quickly.

Maybe this man really wasn't that frightening.

Once everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, Maggie saw Lin Feng and the group to the door in Hershel's place — Hershel had had a touch too much, with an easy, measured smile. "Lin, are you going out to repair the fences tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Something up?"

"Then we'll come help."

Lin Feng thought about it and nodded. "Whenever you're free. Just come on over."

Maggie nodded. "Don't worry, we don't just lie around in bed all day. Oh — and the barn over there is locked up tight. No reason to go near it."

"Don't worry," Lin Feng replied, his tone carrying just a trace of meaning. "We know the rules."

Back at camp, Merle went straight into the tent and was flat on his back within seconds. The snoring started shortly after.

Daryl fell into step beside Lin Feng and asked, without quite looking over, "What's the deal with the barn?"

Lin Feng exhaled. "What else. That old Christian man genuinely believes the walkers in there are just sick people. So..."

Daryl nodded slowly. "So? How are you going to handle it?"

"Leave it for now. They can't get out, and we've got more pressing things to deal with first. I'll sit down with Hershel about it in a while."

"Think that'll work?"

"Hershel will come around. Trust me."

Daryl nodded, said nothing more, and headed back to the tent.

Lin Feng dropped into a chair under the camp canopy and looked up at the night sky. The darkness was heavy and still.

A handful of stars scattered across the black, blinking faintly, there and then gone.

➤ Next: Farm Phase One Construction

Chapter 22 - Farm Phase One Construction

Early the next morning, Lin Feng was up before anyone else. He went down the line and woke Merle and the others one by one, no exceptions.

A quick wash, a breakfast of canned food and crackers, and they were moving, tools and weapons in hand, toward the section of fence Lin Feng had marked the day before.

They were halfway there when Hershel caught up, bringing the whole family along, everyone carrying tools.

"Good morning, Lin. Didn't expect you to move this fast."

"Morning, Maggie. You all aren't exactly slow yourselves." Lin Feng nodded, easy smile in place.

Hershel brought up the rear at an unhurried pace, a faint smile on his face, eyes deep and watchful.

A few minutes later, Lin Feng reached the marked section. He set the axe down from his shoulder and grabbed the fence with both hands, shaking it hard. The whole thing creaked and groaned.

The expressions on Hershel's face and the others darkened, but underneath the unease was plain gratitude.

If Lin Feng hadn't done that routine walkthrough, they never would have spotted a safety hazard this serious hiding in such an unremarkable corner.

"Merle, take Otis and Jimmy and go cut timber. At least twenty-five logs, fifteen centimeters diameter minimum. Species doesn't matter, but oak if you can get it."

Merle blinked, caught off guard for a half-second, then nodded.

"Daryl, take your crossbow and do a perimeter sweep. Tie off all the warning tripwires that need setting. And if you can manage it, bring back some game. Back before noon — if you're not, I'll come looking for you."

Daryl nodded. The corner of his mouth ticked upward. That arrangement suited just fine.

"Beth, Cathy's yours. I trust you two can have a good morning."

"The rest of it — I'll tear down, Marcus collects the scraps. We can haul it back to camp for firewood later. Mr. Hershel, sorry to give you the hard end of things, but we need the foundation postholes dug."

Maggie looked around, realized that of everyone present only Maggie and Patricia were left without assignments, and spoke up immediately. "What about us? Lin, you can't just leave us standing here."

"Hey, don't take it that way. You just don't have anything right now. Once Merle and the others drag the logs back, you'll have plenty to do."

"Fine. Sounds like I jumped to conclusions."

"No harm done." Lin Feng smiled and shook his head. "Alright, let's get moving, people!"

He swung the back of the axe into the fence boards in one clean upward strike. The force didn't just shatter the boards, it ripped a section of the already-loose post right out of the ground along with them.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Three hits with the axe back, and the boards and posts came out clean.

Merle let out a low whistle. "You're a wild animal wearing a human suit, bro."

Lin Feng didn't look up. "Save it and get to work. You think it's just this one stretch?"

Merle laughed and headed into the woods with Daryl and the others.

Everyone else fanned out and got busy, digging holes, keeping an eye on the kid, measuring distances.

The modest patch of grass turned lively fast.

Half an hour later, Otis and Jimmy came back with the first load of timber. Just three logs, but it was no small thing. Otis was shouldering two of them.

Lin Feng watched that for a moment and quietly gave a thumbs-up in his head.

Might not be much in a fight right now, but as a worker? A genuine natural.

As for down the road, if Otis ever wanted to get into the fighting, there was always Tyreese's approach: brute-force demolition, pure and simple. And if not, construction foreman was a perfectly respectable career in the apocalypse.

Maggie stepped up and used a knife to score length marks into the logs. Lin Feng followed behind with the fire axe, cutting each one clean through. They carried the posts over, sharpened the bottoms, held them over charcoal until the wood was scorched and hardened, then lowered them into the holes.

Lin Feng planted his feet. He pulled his frame taut, raised the axe in both hands to full extension, and brought the blunt head crashing down onto the post.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Three strikes, and the post was driven solid. Fill the hole, tamp the earth down, and move to the next one. Then the next. And the next.

Sweat soaked through his shirt in long dark patches, the fabric clinging to the body underneath.

With every swing, every time the iron axe came down, Beth could see the muscles jump beneath the fabric, and the hard lines of his midsection, eight distinct ridges clear even through the clinging cloth.

Hm. That build. That raw strength. That endurance. That...

The thought wandered somewhere it had no business going.

Beth quickly corrected posture, walked to one side, and drank several long pulls from a water bottle before the flutter in the chest settled down.

Cathy tilted her head. "Beth, are you getting sick? Your face is all red."

Beth nearly choked. Turning away, head down, clearing a throat several times before managing a small voice: "No, no. It's just — I haven't been out in the sun much lately. That's all."

Cathy looked up at the sun sitting half behind a cloud, small face full of sincere puzzlement.

Off to the side, Hershel watched with quiet satisfaction. You could see most of what a person was made of when they were working. And right now, in the eyes of this old farmer, Lin Feng was a different breed entirely from the smooth-talking cowboys who never put their backs into anything.

Hershel looked down at age-spotted hands. No hurry. Couldn't rush this. More watching needed to be done.

Lin Feng turned his head and wiped sweat off his face with a sleeve. Breathing had gone heavier, but the hands never slowed.

Today was Phase One. Get it done early, get into town early, scavenge supplies early, level up early.

Once Rick's group showed up, he'd find a way to pull in more people. Phase Two of construction. Turn this place into an actual fortress.

In the blueprint taking shape in his head, the farm was the first base of operations, not just a food source, but everyone's fallback position. The anchor that made everything else possible when the time came to push against other factions.

He was still working through it when a light, sweet scent drifted past.

"Lin. Water."

He turned around. Beth.

Head dipped low, cheeks flushed deep red, heat or something else, hard to say. One hand held out a canteen, eyes careful and a little uncertain, the whole posture of someone ready to step back and disappear at a moment's notice.

"Thanks." Lin Feng took the canteen and knocked back several mouthfuls.

Beth's eyes brightened. "Don't mention it."

Creak.

Somewhere nearby, metal under pressure let out a quiet, pained groan.

The smile was still on Hershel's face. But the warmth had left the eyes completely. The aluminum canteen had bent slightly out of shape, knuckles pale against it.

This kid... this little...

Wonder if that old shotgun still fires.

Fortunately, Lin Feng was built simple. He finished the water, handed the canteen straight back to Beth, picked up the axe, and got back to work.

Nearby, Marcus rubbed the stubble on a jaw, turning something over in mind.

Delivering a baby couldn't be harder than an autopsy. Could it?

Next time they went to town, going to have to find some books on the subject.

➤ Next: Unknown Mutations and the Showdown