Morning arrived on August 16, 2023, in Shuangqing City.
When Li Daoxuan woke and leaned over the diorama box, he found Gao Family Village already alive with movement. The quiet rhythm of ordinary village life had been replaced by the tense, deliberate preparations of a group about to embark on a dangerous journey.
San Shier stood at the center of the activity, nervously checking and rechecking their supplies. Beside him were Mrs. San, the two sculptors, Gao Chuwu, Zheng Daniu, and more than ten young villagers who had volunteered to accompany them. Each person carried a small bundle of provisions, their faces marked by determination mixed with unease.
In the past, traveling to the county town had been a trivial matter. A few dried rations tucked into their sleeves were enough, and the thirty-odd li could be covered in little more than an hour or two. The road had once been safe, and the journey little more than a routine errand.
But everything had changed.
Beyond the protective walls of Gao Family Village lay a wasteland ruled not by law, but by violence. Bandits roamed freely, preying upon the weak without restraint. The imperial court, according to Bai Yuan's last report, had no intention of intervening until spring, when starvation and infighting would naturally thin the bandits' ranks. Until then, the countryside had effectively been abandoned.
San Shier paced back and forth, muttering under his breath in an effort to steady his nerves.
"Dao Xuan Tianzun already annihilated the Supreme Bright King. The largest bandit force is gone. There should not be any serious threats left."
He repeated the words several times, as though trying to convince himself.
In truth, he had never been a brave man. When petty officials had raided Wang Family Village and confiscated their seeds, he had been among the first to flee. He was neither bold nor heroic, merely an ordinary man burdened with responsibility.
Yet Mrs. San had insisted on returning to the county town, determined to spread Tianzun's Daoist teachings, and he could not refuse her.
Gao Chuwu, by contrast, seemed entirely unconcerned. He grinned broadly, standing tall as he puffed out his chest.
"Do not worry," he said confidently. "I will protect everyone."
He slapped his chest proudly.
"I am wearing my Two-Plate Armor. Does it not look impressive?"
San Shier froze in horror.
"What are you doing?"
His voice rose sharply.
"Take it off immediately."
Gao Chuwu blinked in confusion.
"Why?"
San Shier rushed forward and grabbed his arm.
"Wearing armor inside the village is one thing. Wearing armor into the county town is another. The moment officials see you dressed like that, they will assume you are a rebel. You will be arrested or executed on the spot."
The color drained from Gao Chuwu's face.
Without hesitation, he stripped off the armor and hurried back to Gao Yiye's smithy to return it.
Once that crisis was averted, the group finally set out.
Each person carried a knife at their waist and a bundle on their back. Their steps were quick, almost hurried, as they passed through the village gates and onto the uncertain road beyond.
Fear lingered in their hearts.
Only days had passed since the bandit army had attacked their home.
No one could say what dangers still lurked outside.
Yet the thought that they were carrying out Tianzun's will gave them strength.
If Tianzun could protect them, then surely they could endure this journey.
San Shier urged them forward.
"Faster. The sooner we reach the county town, the safer we will be."
They needed no encouragement. Their pace quickened naturally, driven by urgency.
Li Daoxuan watched them go, following their movement by pressing the directional controls on the outside of the box. His perspective shifted, tracking their tiny figures as they walked farther and farther away.
Then, suddenly, they vanished.
They had passed beyond the limits of his view.
Li Daoxuan sat back.
A strange feeling settled in his chest.
He had never thought of himself as someone sentimental, yet watching them leave stirred something unfamiliar. It reminded him of the way parents watched their children depart for distant places, filled with both pride and worry.
He turned his attention back to the village.
With San Shier gone, the atmosphere changed almost immediately.
The blacksmiths worked more slowly, their movements no longer driven by urgency. The women paused their weaving, gathering in small groups to chat. Laughter and gossip replaced the relentless discipline of recent days.
Even Gao Yiye behaved differently.
She slipped quietly out of her house and hurried to the storage hut where the cotton was kept. After glancing around to ensure no one was watching, she grabbed a large bundle and concealed it beneath her clothing before rushing back home.
Inside, she shut the door tightly and began spinning thread in secret.
Li Daoxuan chuckled softly.
He had considered intervening, but the thought quickly faded.
The villagers had endured constant hardship and danger. A brief period of relaxation would do them no harm.
He turned away from the box and sat at his computer.
The surveillance camera he had installed had accumulated hours of footage. It was time to organize it.
He opened the recordings and began reviewing them one by one.
Most showed ordinary scenes: villagers building temples, carrying supplies, or gathering in conversation.
Then he opened one recording and froze.
The night-vision footage showed Gao Yiye standing beside the pond, removing her outer garments.
He immediately looked away.
For several seconds, his curiosity battled against his conscience.
In the end, his conscience prevailed.
He deleted the recording.
He exhaled deeply, then opened another video.
This one showed the villagers working together to construct the Daoist temple. Their movements were lively, filled with purpose and energy.
An idea formed in his mind.
He quickly edited the footage into a short video, added a simple caption describing the construction, and uploaded it to TikTok.
He thought nothing more of it.
A few minutes later, while eating instant noodles, he checked his phone again.
His eyes widened.
The video had exploded in popularity.
Comments flooded in rapidly.
"These actors look incredibly realistic."
"The costumes and props are far better than most television dramas."
"This looks like a miniature world."
"It must be tilt-shift photography."
"The production cost must be enormous."
Li Daoxuan read the comments with growing amusement.
Then he saw one particular comment.
"This account will probably start selling fake antiques soon."
He paused.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"I was not planning to do that," he murmured.
"But now that you mention it..."