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🕑 Added 2025-06-01 11:03:42 +0000 UTCWind in the Smoke
Chapter 199 – The Wedding Is Getting Closer
A few days later, Dante finally stood in front of his pen, where beautiful gray chicks roamed the grass.
These two-week-old little ones were barely the size of a palm, but they already considered the vast prairie their playground.
The wind blew gently through the tall grass, the blades reaching as high as a grown man’s waist, swaying with each breeze. Every now and then, a tiny head would peek out from between the blades, scanning the surroundings with round eyes before quickly vanishing again.
If it weren’t for their chirping, it would be hard to notice these lively figures.
Dante had been here before, though not particularly present lately, as he had ordered a war to begin against the Clarks. The reason? His wedding was near, and Susie wouldn’t like the idea of her family being at war while she was getting married.
Of course, Dante hadn’t told his future wife everything—this was one of those things he kept to himself, mainly because he didn’t want to worry her.
It was normal for them both to have their private matters, like any other couple.
“Pretty things don’t always cost that much…” Dante murmured as he looked at his chick pen, which he had acquired through a deal at a modest price of $400 for a hundred chicks.
Dante felt a great sense of accomplishment over the deal, thinking he had made a “huge gain,” a feeling of pride only surpassed by his success selling a batch of vegetables with the “organic” label over the weekend.
That very morning, he had gone to see John, who was in charge of selling the vegetables to people in need at extremely low prices.
At that hour, the early morning market was crowded, though most customers were still waiting and watching.
Seeing that the crowd was slow to place orders at John’s stall, Dante followed everyone’s lead and secretly placed a bag labeled “Certified Organic” on the tray of fresh vegetables he had brought.
“I’m getting married in a few days. You’re invited,” Dante said, placing a formal invitation, which he only gave to those he considered close.
John looked at the invitation and inevitably thought of his wife, then asked, “Are you inviting a professional killer to your wedding?”
“Aren’t we friends? Bring that woman who comes every day to buy vegetables just to see you. It’s obvious you two like each other,” Dante replied while walking away from the vegetable stall without giving John a second glance. John just smiled ironically.
Dante then walked over to a stall selling chicken feed, bought what he needed, and returned to the ranch.
Now, this batch of pearl-gray chicks had just passed their most vulnerable growth stage and were at the best age to adapt to a new environment.
They were energetic and foraged in groups of three to five, pecking at grass seeds and insects with their small, sharp beaks. Occasionally, they would tap the dew from the grass tips with their beaks, taking big gulps and producing soft clicking sounds.
Most chicks were covered in light brown down, soft and fine, speckled with dark stripes resembling camouflage fur.
Several older chicks had already started losing their down, and their first sparse feathers revealed scattered pearly white spots, hinting at their future beautiful plumage.
Their movements were light and agile, like musical notes bouncing across the fields.
However, this peaceful pasture was not always so quiet.
A low moo from the nearby barn broke the silence.
These were the sounds of the American Wagyu calves—young ones who had just been tagged on their ears and were clearly not yet accustomed to the new accessories.
At the sound, the chicks—previously focused on foraging—suddenly perked up, as if triggered by an alarm. They lifted their little heads and responded with chirps in their soft, high-pitched voices.
This noisy “chorus” seemed more like they were agreeing with the calf’s protest or adding “background noise” to Robb’s work.
Two days ago, this batch of American Wagyu calves had been delivered to this section of the ranch. All were five to six months old, weighing between 200 and 300 pounds—an ideal stage for fattening.
These calves had a unique, shiny black coat, as soft and smooth as velvet, glistening deeply under the sun.
Their bodies were well-proportioned and muscular, with broad chests and strong backs that made them appear powerful.
The new calves had made Robb’s herd more diverse, but they had also made management more complex.
Ear tagging had become a necessary means of distinguishing individuals and recording their information.
While on a call, Dante looked up only to see his father approaching, curious about how his youngest son spent most of his time. He was proud of Dante—despite the power in his hands, he hadn’t turned into a fool.
“So this is where you were?”
“This is my secret place, where I usually bury all my problems,” Dante replied as he walked over to his father and asked with interest, “Something wrong?”
“No, nothing bad. I just wanted to check in on you. You’re about to start a new family, and as a father, you’ll begin to see things differently. I just want you to know I’ll be here for whatever you need.”
John, Dante’s father, wasn’t great with words, but he was definitely improving.
Now that the ranch’s troubles were gone and Lee had begun acting like a real owner, John felt as if all his wishes in life had been fulfilled.
Even without his wife, John could see that the family’s future was secure.
Of course, Dante understood what his father was really after with the visit, so he asked, “Want to go for a ride?”
“With this old man?”
“It’s been a while.”
John scratched his chin and said, “Alright, wait here.”
“Take my horse. I’ll use Susie’s,” Dante said, not wanting his father to walk too much. He handed his horse to his father and borrowed Susie’s, which was rarely ridden.
Ever since Susie had developed a love for painting, she had spent long sessions in her studio creating works that would soon be displayed in exhibitions. And so, Dante continued his day with a horseback ride through all the crop fields.
