The hoofbeats came first — frantic, uneven, the kind that only appear when a man is burning through every last scrap of stamina he owns. A rider burst from the direction of Bai Family Fort, dust streaming behind him like a tail of desperation. Only when he neared Gaojia Village did everyone recognize him as one of the Bai family's household retainers.
He hollered before the horse had even stopped moving:
"Bai Family Fort is safe! Old Master Bai and Inspector Cheng Xu joined forces and drove off Luo Chuan Buzhan-Ni! The fort still stands!"
From fields, rooftops, corners of walls, and half-open doors, the villagers' heads popped up like startled quails — only to break into jubilant cheering:
"That's great!"
"Old Master Bai's a good man. Heaven bless him for surviving."
"If Bai Family Fort is safe, maybe those bandits won't enter our county at all!"
The retainer dismounted at the gate, hurried into the fort, saluted Shansier, and continued straight to the quarters where Madam Bai and young Master Bai were staying. There, he delivered the full tale of the battle.
Li Daoxuan, eating tomato-and-egg rice outside a crate, eavesdropped happily as the retainer vividly reenacted the scene of Bai Family Fort's defense.
Madam Bai's face lit with relief.
"If the bandits have been driven off, can we return now?"
"Madam, Young Master," the retainer replied, "this time only Buzhan-Ni's unit attacked. Yichuan Zuoguazi did not appear. If he joins, their numbers will reach three thousand. At that point Bai Family Fort may not hold. Inspector Cheng Xu is unreliable and may flee at any moment. So Old Master asks that you remain in Gaojia Village a few more days."
Madam Bai sighed long and deep.
"Very well. Tell him to be cautious, never reckless. If the situation turns grim, he must abandon the fort and flee."
The retainer bowed, mounted his horse, and sped back toward Bai Family Fort.
Li Daoxuan frowned.
Not over yet.
Huanglong Mountain held five or six thousand bandits. This skirmish was nothing.
Even Song Jiang had to attack Zhu Family Village three times. Why would these outlaws stop after a single attempt?
No — he had to help his own people.
In Li Daoxuan's heart, Bai Yuan and the Bai retainers were "his little guys." He couldn't just leave them to fate.
But how to help effectively?
The plastic trebuchet and mega-crossbow were already at their limit — too few, and no room inside the fort to add more.
Let Gaocuo Wu and Zheng Dan Niu ram the enemy with the Solar Car?
Impossible.
The car's off-road ability was terrible. One ditch or rice-paddy ridge and it would get stuck — and the drivers would die for nothing.
He needed a weapon that could shock bandits instantly — something that could spit out a storm of projectiles from far away and break their morale at once.
Rapid fire…
Li Daoxuan's eyes lit up.
Ah.
He remembered.
He opened Taobao.
He had once seen a "toy" — far too big for little people to use — and didn't buy it then. But now Solar Car No. 3 could haul heavy cargo. The problem was gone.
The Brick-Missile Launcher.
Seven centimeters long in the modern world… but in the Ming era it would become fourteen meters, a colossal beast. But it could be disassembled into pieces and reassembled.
Perfect.
He ordered it immediately, adding a message to the seller:
"Bro, I'll pay extra. SF Express priority shipping."
Money-power is undefeated.
Half a day later, the Brick-Missile arrived.
By then, sunset had dipped over Gaojia Village. Madam Bai stood atop the watchtower, staring anxiously toward Bai Family Fort. Young Master Bai stood beside her.
"Mother, Father has lived righteously all his life. Heaven won't abandon our family. Please rest easy."
Madam Bai sighed.
"I hope so…"
At this moment, Gao Yiye hurried up the stairs.
"Young Master Bai — Dao Xuan Tianzun has a celestial device to teach you. Learn it well. Tomorrow, return briefly to teach your father."
Young Master Bai froze.
"Me?"
A boy of thirteen or fourteen — old enough to understand, young enough to be nervous, and very excited.
Madam Bai nearly jumped.
"Send my child back to that danger? Absolutely not!"
Gao Yiye smiled.
"He will only pass along instructions regarding the celestial device, then return immediately."
Madam Bai relaxed.
"Watch carefully," Gao Yiye said.
Mother and son straightened.
The clouds parted — and down drifted countless colorful fragments, like pieces of a shattered rainbow. They covered the open ground before the fort.
Then the pieces floated up, grabbed by some invisible hand, ka-cha! locking together, then ka-cha! again, forming a massive structure more than four zhang long.
Madam Bai and her son were stunned.
"What… is that?"
Gao Yiye shouted:
"Li Da! Tianzun says: go strike the mechanism at the back!"
Li Da arrived, grinning with his giant hammer.
"Oho! Time for another celestial device? This one's huge!"
"See the four triggers at the back? Hit them one after another!"
"Got it!"
He swung his hammer: THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP — four blows.
Each strike launched two enormous cylinder-shaped missiles, eight total, streaking across the sky before smashing into the far hillside, knocking down dead trees and sending dust clouds billowing.
Li Da staggered back.
"Sweet merciful heavens, this thing is fierce!"
Madam Bai and her son stared, speechless.
Gao Yiye:
"Young Master Bai — Tianzun asks: have you learned it?"
Young Master Bai:
"Eh? Yes! You hit the four triggers with a hammer, right? I—I can demonstrate right now!"
PUFF!
Gao Yiye burst into laughter.
"No, no, Tianzun doesn't want you to learn to be a blacksmith! You're supposed to learn how to assemble the device!"
Young Master Bai:
"Ah? Assemble it? I… forgot to watch."
Everyone:
"...…"
Fun + History Footnotes
[1] Missile-like weapons in Ming China
While "brick-missiles" are fictional here, the Ming dynasty did employ multiple-launch rocket racks, such as the Huo Ba and Long Snake Fire-Arrow Frame, capable of firing dozens of rockets at once. These were terrifying to bandits and often used for morale-shattering volleys.
[2] Bandit numbers in mountain strongholds
A mountain bandit group with five or six thousand men was not unheard of in late-Ming chaos. Many such groups were semi-militarized, occupying mountain ranges and running protection rackets.
[3] Children carrying military messages
Teenagers aged 12–15 were frequently used as messengers or aides in wartime. Their small size and agility made them ideal runners — though it was certainly dangerous.