It was early morning, the kind of sleepy dawn where even the birds seemed to be hitting the snooze button. Li Daoxuan was lying in bed, lazily tapping away on his phone, chatting with the manager of Ningyang Toys Ltd., the guy who called himself Yitong Pudding.
"Bro… you really can't make a one-to-two-hundred scale hand-crossbow toy?" Li Daoxuan asked.
"No chance," replied Pudding. "At that scale the crossbow is way too tiny. We can't fit a trigger mechanism in something that small. Even the simplest release system won't work."
"So basically… only bows?"
"Correct. Bows are easy. A traditional longbow is around one-point-five meters. Shrink it to one-to-two-hundred scale and it's seven-point-five millimeters. A plastic bow that size is no problem. In fact, we've already mass-produced them. If you're willing to plug us in your next video, maybe toss in a little shopping-link… The sample box should have arrived by now."
"Oh? That fast?"
As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Li Daoxuan padded over, opened the door, signed the receipt, and got handed a small box. Inside sat a whole nest of toy bows — each one barely the size of a fingernail. Seven-point-five millimeters. Plastic limbs, ultrathin rubber string. Cute… in a slightly cursed, nightmare-inducing way. There were so many stuffed together that just staring at them triggered mild trypophobia.
This was a niche product — only the fans of "Life in the Tiny Kingdom" would ever buy these. Most used them with their plastic figurines to build toy ancient battlefields. Lately the theme had sold surprisingly well, and Li Daoxuan was making a nice cut.
And, well… he himself was exactly that kind of nerd. He'd happily buy several boxes even if he weren't the creator.
He plucked up one little bow and casually tossed it into the Box.
"Yi Ye, find a villager. Anyone. Let them test if this bow works."
Find a villager? She was a villager!
Naturally, Gao Yi Ye tested it herself. She pinched the tiny bow, set her slim arms, and pulled the bowstring.
She thought she wouldn't be able to draw it at all — but surprisingly, she pulled the bow open with ease.
"Wow! Tianzun, I can actually use this!"
Li Daoxuan laughed. Of course she could. A real longbow required seasoned wood and taut rawhide — drawing it took serious muscle, and the released arrow could punch through armor. But this toy bow? Plastic limbs and a floppy rubber string. Easy to draw, but the arrow would have about as much punch as a grumpy mosquito.
"Tighten the string a bit," he said. "Find the tension that matches your strength. Then you'll get some real power."
"Okay!"
Yi Ye unhooked the string, wrapped it tighter around the little bow limbs…
This time she tightened it too much. The girl braced herself, strained with all her might — cheeks puffing out adorably — but she couldn't even draw it halfway.
Li Daoxuan chuckled. The way she puffed her cheeks when exerting herself… made him want to lean down and—
Then his eye caught movement. Visitors again. Someone entering Gaojia Village. He narrowed his gaze. The face was unfamiliar, but the robes… those were familiar. After a moment he remembered — the Shaoxing-accented clerk under the County Magistrate.
Shansier had already been notified by the sentries and was now escorting the man at the fortress gate. Two clerks meeting meant an immediate explosion of chatter — flowery flattery, legal jargon, and bureaucratic crane-dancing. Li Daoxuan immediately tuned them out and turned his attention back to Yi Ye.
She loosened the bowstring slightly, tried again, and — perfect. A smooth draw, neither too tight nor too soft.
There were no toy arrows included, so she improvised: picked up a small round-tipped bamboo stick, nocked it, drew the bow fully, and released.
The bamboo shot through the air, arced over several rows of courtyard houses… and vanished.
A heartbeat later — "Owww!"
Yi Ye flinched. "Oh no! I hit someone!"
Li Daoxuan's gaze zipped over. He burst out laughing.
"No worries. You hit the Magistrate's Shaoxing clerk. Not one of our own. And the bamboo is hollow with a round tip — it won't hurt him. Just startled him a bit. Shot him right in the chest."
Yi Ye snorted with laughter. She had long since discovered that her Tianzun was hilariously biased — his tiny villagers were precious gems; outsiders were… scenery.
She remembered Master Wang's storytelling — how the gods in Journey to the West always spoiled their own spirit beasts, letting them cause trouble until Sun Wukong dragged them home by the ear. Apparently gods really were like that.
Softly, she murmured, "Tianzun is so nice…"
"Hm?" Li Daoxuan didn't catch it.
Louder, she said, "I'll go check with Shansier. He might need me to pass along your decree!"
"Go on."
She slung the tiny bow over her shoulder and pattered off.
Li Daoxuan shifted his view to her destination.
Shansier was strolling with the Shaoxing clerk through Gaojia Fortress, chatting.
"That arrow scared me half to death," the clerk said. "Thankfully the tip was round…"
Shansier shook his head. "Some kid must be playing around. I'll scold him later."
"It's fine, it's fine. No need to frighten children." Then the clerk lowered his voice. "I came on the County Magistrate's orders. The Magistrate hopes to borrow a batch of weapons from the Li household…"
Shansier's brows twitched. "Borrow weapons?"
The clerk rubbed his hands. "I know it's… a bit much to ask. But you must have heard. The bandits from Luochuan and Yichuan have gathered at Huanglong Mountain. Five to six thousand at least. If a group that big storms into Chengcheng County… the county city might fall. If that happens… your Li family won't be safe either."
Shansier wasn't surprised — Baiyuan had already passed him intelligence. But hearing the words "the county might fall" still made his heart drop. After all, Gaojia Village was safe, yes — but his wife was still at the Chengcheng City Temple doing her "salvation of the masses" act. If bandits breached the city, his lovely, round, soft little wife—
He didn't finish the thought.
He asked, "But Bai Family Fortress is right under Huanglong Mountain. If the bandits can't breach Bai Fortress, how will they reach the county city?"
The Shaoxing clerk sighed. "You're assuming bandits behave like proper troops. Only real armies attack cities in sequence. Bandits don't care. If Bai Fortress proves hard to crack, they'll simply switch paths, go around it, plunder the rear towns instead. If they break through Fengyuan Town, they'll march straight to the county city. That's why the Magistrate wants to form a second militia line of defense."
Shansier blinked. "…!"
Yes. That actually made perfect sense. Even if Bai Fortress held, the bandits could scatter unpredictably — a nightmare scenario.
Li Daoxuan considered this for a moment, then said:
"Yi Ye, tell the clerk: we can lend them five hundred longbows."
Footnotes
Longbow strength
A real Ming-era longbow required significant upper-body training. Average villagers could rarely draw a full war bow.
Shaoxing clerk
Clerks from Shaoxing Prefecture were famous for their bureaucracy mastery. Many Ming officials hired them privately.
Huanglong Mountain bandits
The dynamics described — bypassing fortresses rather than besieging — matches historical mid-Ming peasant uprisings and bandit groups, which favored mobility over sieges.
Gaojia Fortress
The "fortress" is essentially a fortified village — common in late-Ming rural defense systems.