The video had only been online for a short while when the likes blasted past one hundred thousand—and the numbers were still rocketing upward.
Comments were exploding like fireworks.
"Holy—how did he even film this? How did that giant hand get into the shot?"
"Wait, short-video special effects can do this now? Are we living in the future?"
"That shot of a big hand pushing a toy bus around an ancient village—I'm dying. And the actors inside the bus? Their clueless medieval villager expressions deserve an Oscar."
"Special-effects level: god-tier. Actor level: also god-tier. Only downside is that the bus itself is kinda ugly—obviously plastic. Definitely a toy."
"The hand is real. The bus is real. The tiny people are CG. The VFX integration is insane."
"Pfft, I can still tell it's effects. My eyes are sharper than a hawk's."
"What kind of reverse-thinking technique even is this?"
"This effect SLAPS. I'm screaming."
Meanwhile, sales inside the little merchandise panel were… not great. The tiny planes, tiny ships, tiny trains? Still collecting dust.
But the video-featured toy bus?
It sold over ten thousand units almost instantly.
At 49.9 yuan apiece, that was over half a million in sales. With his 25% commission—minus Douyin's 5% fee—Li Daoxuan had pocketed over one hundred thousand yuan.
Just like that.
WeChat flashed. It was Yitong Pudding.
"Boss! Boss!! Orders EXPLODED! Sales department is in emergency overtime—everyone's packing boxes! Oh my god, this video… we're convinced. Your special-effects skills are terrifying!"
Li Daoxuan replied, "See? The planes and ships don't sell because no one cares. The bus sold because it appeared in my video. If you make ancient-style micro-toys—tiny houses, tiny fortresses, tiny carriages—I put them in the video, that's when we get real爆賣."
Yitong Pudding: "Understood. I'll convince the product team. We'll create toys that match your video theme as much as possible."
Li Daoxuan: "Looking forward to it. Win-win for both of us."
He closed WeChat and let out a tired sigh. Outside the window, Shuangqing City had fallen into night. Downstairs, the usual drunks were already shouting:
"Five-Point Hand! Six-Six-Six!"
Two young punks roared past on motorcycles, engines screaming as they blasted down the street for fun.
Li Daoxuan sighed and shut the window. Double-layered soundproof glass—just enough to mute the ghost-fire youths wreaking havoc outside.
He showered, returned to his bedroom, turned off the lights, and prepared for sleep.
A faint glow lingered in the room.
It came from inside the miniature box world. On the walls of the Gao Family Fortress, a ring of oil lamps flickered as two sentries patrolled diligently.
After two consecutive battles, the villagers finally understood what danger felt like. Their patrols were now far more serious.
The corner of Li Daoxuan's mouth lifted. He was just about to whisper a good night to the little world and head to bed—
—when he noticed a tiny figure standing on the third-floor balcony of the tallest watchtower.
"Huh?"
It was Gao Yiye.
Unlike her formal daytime attire, she wasn't wearing the heavy white ceremonial robe. Instead, she wore her old coarse cloth pajamas—patched in many places, worn out but comfortable.
Clearly her sleepwear. She didn't want to wrinkle her good clothing.
She looked troubled. Standing high on the balcony, she gazed up at the star-filled sky. Several times she opened her mouth to speak, but words hovered on the edge and retreated.
At last, she whispered toward the heavens:
"Why me?"
Li Daoxuan froze.
He instantly understood what she meant.
Yeah… why you, indeed?
Even he didn't know.
Gao Yiye's voice was soft and hesitant.
"Dao Xuan Tianzun… you're probably busy handling celestial matters now. I only dare say this while you're not watching. I… I've been so bored lately… I might actually die of boredom."
Li Daoxuan: "Pfft!"
Gao Yiye continued, sounding both shy and plaintive:
"Everyone tells me to stand still, not move, not run, not jump. They say it would disrespect your heavenly majesty. But… but that's not me. Ever since I was little, I liked running, climbing, jumping. I liked chasing Chuwu around, liked making Gaosan stagger after me. I liked catching frogs in the fields and digging clams by the river. Before the great drought, I was the most mischievous girl in the village."
Li Daoxuan couldn't help laughing.
Gao Yiye sighed dramatically.
"A few days ago, I stole some cotton to weave cloth. When I brought the finished fabric, everyone stared at me like I had committed a crime. Third Uncle even pulled me aside and lectured me for half an hour about 'maintaining the dignity of a celestial envoy'…"
Li Daoxuan: "Pfft—pffft—!"
He wanted to laugh… but at the same time, he felt a little sad.
Gao Yiye looked genuinely distressed.
"I just can't help it. I have to do something. If I don't, I'll go crazy."
She stood on tiptoes, lifting her face toward the moonlight. The silver glow coated her features in a gentle shimmer, making her look softer and more delicate than usual.
"Dao Xuan Tianzun… I still want to weave cloth. Even if Third Uncle scolds me… I can't stop. Please don't blame me for making you look less majestic."
At that moment, Li Daoxuan abruptly lifted the lid of the miniature box.
The moment the lid opened, Gao Yiye could see him—and hear him.
She jumped in fright, stumbled three steps back, and fell to her knees.
"Dao Xuan Tianzun! You… you're here? Forgive me! I… I won't steal cotton anymore!"
Li Daoxuan smiled gently.
He softened his voice.
"Go get cotton. It's fine. I'm not angry."
Gao Yiye's head snapped up, eyes shimmering with disbelief.
He continued, slowly and warmly:
"Live the way you want. Don't let anyone talk you out of it. Your happiness comes first. Everything else… is secondary."
Gao Yiye bit her lip.
"But… if I act improperly, won't I tarnish your dignity?"
Li Daoxuan chuckled.
"A false god needs theatrics to stay tall. But me? I can prove myself anytime. I don't need you to sacrifice who you are just to make me look impressive."