Wang Xiansheng perked up the moment the man stepped through the door—like someone who'd just spotted the carp in a pond that was finally big enough to eat.
"Ah! Perfect timing. I was just looking for you."
The newcomer was a skinny, skittish fellow, the kind who carried the natural aura of a man who'd been bullied by life and had learned not to argue with it.
Li Daoxuan took one glance and immediately knew: Newcomer syndrome.
Only people who'd just arrived in Gaojia Village wore that particular expression of confused gratitude mixed with existential dread.
Wang Xiansheng asked, "I hear you're a woodblock carver."
The poor man bowed nervously.
"Yes, sir. My name is Xiao Dazheng. My family has been carving blocks for generations."
"Registered craftsman? Rotating-duty craftsman?" Wang Xiansheng asked.
Awkward silence.
Then Xiao Dazheng admitted, "Registered… sir, I… lost my household registration and fled. I'm just a wandering commoner now."
Wang Xiansheng sighed sympathetically.
"Ah, so you were once a registered craftsman. That's rough. And I hear you've just arrived in Gaojia Village, haven't contributed any labor yet, and have already eaten several days of free meals. Your conscience must be itching a bit, yes?"
He hit the bullseye.
Since arriving, Xiao Dazheng had been immediately granted what villagers proudly called the artisan privilege package — basically the VIP deal.
Shansier arranged housing in the artisan compound, provided rice, flour, salt, oil… Life was suddenly too good.
And exceptionally terrifying.
Because eating free food while doing no work is every craftsman-refugee's nightmare. What if one day the steward showed up and said:
"You're useless. Gaojia Village doesn't want you. Bye."
That would basically be a death sentence.
So for days, Xiao Dazheng had been walking around like a startled quail, begging anyone for leads on how to contribute.
His friend Luo Tuimao finally pointed him toward Wang Xiansheng.
"Sir, I truly am anxious. Please… please show me a path."
Wang Xiansheng nodded sagely.
"Then I will speak plainly. My students have no books. All of Gaojia Village has only the few volumes I personally brought. They must take turns reading, and it is painfully slow."
Xiao Dazheng instantly understood.
"Sir… you want me to carve and print books?"
"Exactly."
Wang Xiansheng stroked his beard with the confidence of a man who had finally trapped a rare Pokemon.
"Education for children is sacred. Not a single character may be carved incorrectly. I asked for you because Luo Tuimao said you work hard, carefully, and never make mistakes."
Xiao Dazheng thumped his chest.
"Sir, I do everything with utmost care. Books carved by my hand never have a wrong character."
"Good."
Wang Xiansheng dramatically pulled out several sheets of handwritten notes.
"These are the immortal syllables Dao Xuan Tianzun taught me — called Hanyu Pinyin. I have compiled them. You will carve and print them. In doing so, you'll be doing real service for Tianzun. And you may finally eat your meals without fear."
Xiao Dazheng nearly cried.
"Blessed be Tianzun! Thank you, sir! I will carve Hanyu Pinyin perfectly!"
Wang Xiansheng wagged a finger.
"But be warned — b and d are extremely easy to confuse. And here! C and E — also easy to mix up. These… these… all trouble spots. If you carve one wrong word and mislead the children… hmph…"
"Rest assured," Xiao Dazheng declared, puffing up with tragic heroism,
"if I carve even one wrong character, I'll twist off my own head and offer it to Tianzun as a ball!"
Li Daoxuan nearly choked from laughter.
Good, good. With more artisans arriving, Gaojia Village was finally diversifying.
His magical printer could print, sure — but even shrunken printouts still came out enormous and unwieldy for the locals.
But now?
Paper-making craftsmen.
Woodblock carvers.
Books produced locally.
This was how culture began — not the lofty "civilization-building" cliché, but the real thing: ideas.
Ideas lead to new heights.
New heights open new worlds.
He had just been thinking this when two little figures in the village were already running off to build the future.
Li Daoxuan, in his full "Immortal Glow Appears, I Am Pleased" expression, lowered his head and said:
"Yiye, inform Shansier that a woodblock carver named Xiao Dazheng is preparing to carve books. Tell him to prioritize this work above all else. When the first printed copy of Hanyu Pinyin comes out, reward the craftsman heavily."
"Understood!" Yiye saluted.
Unfortunately for her, she was currently trapped under Madam Bai's monologue — an extended lecture on how her precious son was doomed by his hobbies. It was the kind of speech that could cause headaches in three generations.
Seizing Tianzun's order as a divine escape route, Yiye dragged Shansier away.
"Steward San, Tianzun has tasks for you!"
Shansier, equally overwhelmed by Madam Bai's maternal thunder, bolted instantly.
"Madam Bai, Young Master Bai, please continue. I must take my leave."
They escaped at high speed.
After receiving the message, Shansier immediately took legal adviser Tan Liwen and rushed toward the artisan compound to coordinate.
With the adults gone, Yiye scanned left, scanned right… No orders. No duties.
Free time unlocked.
Her eyes sparkled with the exact energy of a cat who'd just remembered where it buried something interesting.
She darted straight toward the learning compound, where children had just finished reading the Hundred Family Surnames and were starting their homework.
Yiye hunched low, ninja-walking behind Wang Xiansheng, and whispered to a boy around eight or nine:
"Gao Sanwa! Gao Sanwa!"
The boy turned.
"Yiye-jie… is it time?"
Yiye nodded gravely.
"This is the perfect moment."
Sanwa slid silently off his bench and tiptoed after her.
When Wang Xiansheng turned his head, the two slipped out like smoke.
Li Daoxuan watched with delight.
Oh? Ohhh? Yiye, abducting a kid to ditch class? There goes your holy maiden image! What mischief are you two plotting?
The answer: speed.
They sneaked out of the compound, wound through the maze-like corridors, and reached the front gate of Gaojia Fort, where three vehicles stood:
Sun Car No. 1, Sun Car No. 2, Sun Car No. 3.
Small, medium, colossal —
six meters, ten meters, twenty-eight meters.
Yiye climbed into the driver's spot of Sun Car No. 1, gripping the steering plow like a bandit with a dream.
"Gao Sanwa, ready?"
Sanwa took position at the sunshade controls.
"Yiye-jie… are you sure this is okay? If Tianzun catches us secretly driving the Sun Car, we'll be punished."
Yiye answered with the flawless confidence of someone who absolutely should not be this confident:
"Tianzun told me to 'do what I like.'"
Sanwa hesitated.
"But… doing what you like can't violate Tianzun's laws…"
"Tianzun's command only said Gao Chuwu and Zheng Daniu can drive. It never said others can't. If Tianzun doesn't forbid it, that means it's allowed."
Sanwa froze.
…The logic actually made sense.
Dangerously good sense.
Kids don't need much convincing.
"Okay… then I'll help!"
Li Daoxuan burst out laughing.
The little rascal is learning to exploit loopholes. Reading really is paying off.
Footnotes (also with no Chinese characters)
① Registered vs. wandering craftsmen — many dynasties tied craftsmen to hereditary service. Losing registration meant falling from "skilled professional" to "paperless nobody" overnight.
② Woodblock printing — extremely precise work. One mistake means scrapping a whole block, which explains the dramatic oath.
③ Treating Hanyu Pinyin as divine revelation — intentional humor. Alphabetic phonetics would look like sorcery to villagers used to complex logographs.
④ Madam Bai's lecture — eternal universal phenomenon: mothers turning casual talk into a moral sermon.
⑤ Sun Cars — solar-powered magic tractors. Kids stealing one is basically the ancient version of two children "borrowing" a military prototype for fun.