Li Daoxuan stared into the diorama box, completely captivated by the miniature world within.
Another day slipped by before he even realized it. Hunger eventually forced him to tear his eyes away long enough to order some takeout, but the moment his food arrived, his attention returned to the world inside the box.
Before he knew it, evening had fallen.
Outside his apartment window, Shuangqing City was glowing beneath the golden light of sunset. Yet inside the diorama, something even stranger was happening.
The sky within the miniature world darkened at exactly the same time as the real sky outside.
It made absolutely no sense.
The fluorescent lights in his room were still blazing, their harsh white glow shining directly onto the glass enclosure. Yet none of that artificial light seemed capable of reaching the world inside. Instead, the diorama produced its own twilight, as though it were following the movements of a sun that existed nowhere outside its tiny realm.
Too many mysteries, Li Daoxuan thought, shrugging it off. I have stopped questioning the small things.
His attention soon shifted elsewhere.
Gao Chuwu and the other three had left at dawn. Now it was dusk, and there was still no sign of them.
A faint sense of unease crept over Li Daoxuan. It was like having a litter of kittens and watching four particularly troublesome ones wander out the gate, leaving him wondering whether they would make it home in one piece.
Just as his worry reached its peak, movement appeared at the edge of the diorama.
Five tiny figures emerged from the glass boundary.
Li Daoxuan's shoulders immediately relaxed.
Thank goodness. They made it back safely.
Sure enough, it was Gao Chuwu and his companions. Dragging along behind them was their spoils of war, Shan Shi'er, who looked utterly miserable.
The Advisor had regained consciousness somewhere along the journey. When he opened his eyes, he found himself surrounded by four young men, each gripping a thick wooden club. Their faces were expressionless, and none of them looked particularly interested in listening to him.
Shan Shi'er was no fool. He quickly assessed the situation.
These were ordinary peasants. Poorly educated, stubborn, and clearly not the sort of people who could be reasoned with. If he talked too much, there was a good chance he would end up with another club to the back of his head.
So he decided to keep his mouth shut.
He lowered his head and trudged along behind them as they marched for over thirty li. For a man accustomed to spending his days sitting in an office and writing reports, the physical ordeal was brutal. By the time they finally reached Gaojia Village, his legs had turned to jelly and his lungs were on fire.
He collapsed onto the dusty ground, gasping desperately for breath.
"We... finally... made it..." he wheezed, raising his head toward Gao Chuwu. "My brave warriors... you have brought me all the way here. Now... perhaps you can tell me what you intend to do with me? This is what one calls..."
He paused, scraping together the last remnants of his dignity.
"...the dagger is revealed when the map is unrolled."
Gao Chuwu completely ignored his grandiose declaration.
"You three, keep an eye on him," he ordered. "I'm going to get Yiye."
Gao Chuwu immediately ran toward Gao Yiye's hut, intending to use her as the link between himself and Tianzun.
But there was no need.
Li Daoxuan had been watching the entire procession from the diorama. He leaned closer to the glass and called softly.
"Yiye. Yiye."
Inside her hut, Gao Yiye had just finished dinner and was sitting beneath the dim light, mending some clothes. The moment she heard the divine voice, she jumped as though struck by lightning. She hurriedly pushed herself off the stool and dropped to her knees, pressing her forehead to the floor.
"Tianzun! What are Your commands?"
"Gao Chuwu has brought back a scholar," Li Daoxuan said. "I want you to ask him a few questions on my behalf."
"Yes, yes! I will obey!" Yiye exclaimed.
"Hurry. He is almost at your door."
Yiye immediately got to her feet and slid the wooden bolt aside.
Outside, Gao Chuwu had just raised his hand to knock when the door suddenly swung inward.
His hand remained suspended in midair as he stared at Yiye in surprise.
"Yiye? How did you know I was coming?"
"Tianzun told me," Yiye replied matter-of-factly. "He said you had returned with an educated man."
Gao Chuwu glanced upward, his eyes wide with awe.
"Tianzun really does watch over everything," he muttered under his breath. Then he stepped aside.
Yiye ran toward the village center.
Word travels fast in a place this small. Yiye had barely taken ten steps before a door creaked open and a head poked out.
"Yiye? What's going on?"
"They're back! Chuwu brought someone!"
"A scholar! Chuwu actually brought a scholar!"
"Where? Where is he?"
Doors flew open. Baskets hit the ground. Children dropped their games and ran. Within moments, the whole village was pouring out of their huts like ants from a kicked nest.
Shan Shi'er sat on the ground, flanked by three young men with wooden clubs. His robes were covered in dust, his hair had come loose from its topknot, and his face was pale with exhaustion. But his eyes were very much open, darting nervously from face to face as the crowd surrounded him.
The Village Chief arrived first, pushing through the crowd with his bamboo basket still half-woven in his hands. He took one look at the disheveled scholar and stopped dead.
"This is him?" he asked. "This is the Advisor?"
"That's him," Gao Chuwu confirmed, puffing out his chest. "We got him. Just like you said, Grandpa. Knocked him out with a club and carried him all the way back."
The Village Chief stared at him for a moment. Then he let out a short, incredulous laugh.
"You actually did it."
"Of course we did."
"With a club."
"You said to knock him out."
"Chuwu, I said that as a joke."
Gao Chuwu blinked. "What."
The crowd burst into laughter. Even the Village Chief shook his head, unable to keep the grin off his face.
Shan Shi'er watched the exchange with growing unease. They were laughing. At him. While he sat here, captive, exhausted, and covered in dust. He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it and closed it again.
All forty-two villagers gathered around him in a wide circle, staring down at him like he was a rare animal. An old woman poked him with her walking stick. A child reached for his scholar's robe and got smacked away by his mother.
"He looks important," someone whispered.
"Of course he's important. He's a scholar."
"Do scholars usually sit on the ground like that?"
"Shh! Don't be rude!"
Shan Shi'er's eye twitched.
The setting sun cast long shadows across the square. The crowd stood watching without a word, their faces half-hidden in the fading light. To Shan Shi'er, it looked like a tribunal of ghosts.
Panic surged through him. Before anyone could speak, he blurted out, waving his hands defensively.
"Do not misunderstand! Please! I am not your enemy! I never wanted to tax you! I swore to Heaven, I advised the Magistrate to spare the people! That is why he fired me! If you have grievances, take them up with the Magistrate, not me!"
He swallowed hard, trying to sound noble.
"This is what one calls..."
"...Clearly distinguishing gratitude from resentment."
The villagers parted.
Gao Yiye stepped forward, taking the center.
Shan Shi'er blinked, confused. Why was a young girl leading? Usually, elders or chiefs handled negotiations. But if these people were treating her as their voice, she must carry some kind of authority. He straightened his posture.
Yiye listened to the sky, then turned her serious gaze on him.
"Who are you?" she asked. "What is your official title? How many books have you read? How far have you traveled?"
Despite his fear, Shan Shi'er's pride immediately rose to the surface. He straightened his robes and lifted his chin.
"My surname is Shan. Born on the second day of the tenth month, hence my name, Shi'er. I served as the Private Secretary to the Magistrate of Chengcheng County... well, formerly. Dismissed, actually."
He took a deep breath, puffing out his chest.
"I studied for ten years under harsh conditions. I have traversed north and south, east and west. This is what one calls..."
"...Immense literary talent."
Above the diorama, Li Daoxuan had to suppress a laugh.
What a ridiculous fellow. Even after being kidnapped, he still finds time to strike poses and show off.
"Ask him what year it is," Li Daoxuan instructed.
Yiye relayed the question.
Shan Shi'er froze.
What year? A simple factual question? These peasants... do they really live so isolated they do not know the calendar?
Still, he dared not refuse.
"It is the seventh year of the Tianqi reign," he stated solemnly. "The seventh month."
He waited for applause, or perhaps an idiom-worthy reaction. But nothing came.
He frowned, tapping his temple.
"This statement... cannot be summarized with an idiom."
Clutching his head in genuine distress, he groaned. "Oh heavens, how painful! To lack a four-character phrase for such clarity! My brain rejects this simplicity!"
The villagers stared at him, baffled. Some stifled giggles.
But Li Daoxuan did not laugh.
His blood ran cold.
Tianqi Year 7.
He spent half his life lurking on history forums. He knew that date intimately.
1627 AD. The year Emperor Tianqi died. The year Chongzhen ascended the throne. The beginning of the end for the Great Ming Dynasty. Drought. Famine. The imminent explosion of peasant rebellions.
Is this real history?
No. It must be a coincidence. Just a random simulation using old dates.
Doubt gnawed at him. He needed verification.
"Yiye," he said, his voice tight. "Ask him the name of the current Emperor."
Yiye nodded and repeated the question.
Shan Shi'er's expression hardened into stone.
"The Emperor's personal name is taboo," he declared sternly. "A humble subject dares not utter it aloud. To speak it is disrespect. This is what one calls..."
He paused, searching for the right phrase.
"...Honoring the Sovereign benefits the People."
The air went still.
Li Daoxuan stared at the tiny figure in the box. Frustration boiled over. Here was a man who would rather die than break feudal etiquette, even when facing potential execution by angry peasants.
Fine. You want to play by the rules? Let us see how those rules protect you.
Li Daoxuan's eyes narrowed. He spoke two words, cold and absolute.
"Beat him down."