They hadn't gone far, arriving at a grassland ten miles east of the garrison.
"Dad, what are we doing here?"
Yang Mingcheng looked around in confusion.
The grassland was not small, about a hundred acres, surrounded by hills on all sides, with a small river flowing through the middle. This river was the unnamed stream flowing down from Linguan Castle.
The grass was lush and fertile. Although it was deep autumn, a hint of green still persisted.
Yang Zhenshan looked up towards the northern hill, where there was a Fire Road Pile, inhabited by a small flag of military households.
The fields around the mound had been cultivated, but the grassland here had not been put to use.
Yang Zhenshan had previously inspected the various strongholds and signal towers and felt this grassland was excellent. Now looking at it again, he was even more pleased.
"Set up a horse ranch! What do you think about this place?" said Yang Zhenshan.
"A horse ranch?" Yang Mingcheng was astonished.
