Cheng Xu was hopping mad, ranting so hard he was practically shaking the dust off the courtyard tiles.
Shansier, standing beside him, grew more and more awkward by the second.
He thought silently: This guy just arrived. He still doesn't know that in Gaojia Village, a deity is basically standing three feet above your head listening to every complaint. And he's cursing nonstop… every sentence is basically cursing Tianzun directly. If Tianzun weren't so gentle, a divine palm would've slapped him into next week.
Shansier hurried to smooth things over.
"He Instructor, don't get worked up. The way Gaojia Village arranges weapons and armor… there is a reason."
Cheng Xu blinked. "Reason?"
Shansier nodded. "Our village is protected by Dao Xuan Tianzun. When killing bandits, we use the divine gadgets Tianzun grants us. The villagers only need to avoid injuries. So we make iron armor first, then weapons."
Cheng Xu was this close to roasting that logic—
But then he remembered the rainbow-colored siege gadgets he'd seen at Bai Clan Fort…
The giant ballista on wheels…
The rocket that looked like someone glued three wrong ideas together…
Suddenly it all made sense.
"Those strange weapons… those were divine gifts?"
Shansier nodded again.
Cheng Xu lifted his head and stared at the low clouds overhead. After a moment of thinking, he cupped his fists respectfully.
"Tianzun, with divine weapons protecting this village, why do you still need me to organize a militia? My… ahem… my humble mortal skills are hardly comparable to immortal war gadgets."
The clouds parted.
A giant sheet of paper slid out from the heavens like a god dropping a memo.
On it, written boldly:
"Both hands must be used. Both must be strong!"
Cheng Xu froze.
He had absolutely no idea what that meant.
Shansier chuckled.
"He Instructor, Tianzun means: you teach the villagers the mortal way of fighting, while Tianzun teaches us the immortal way of fighting. Two hands, two methods. Both must be strong. That's called 'complete coverage.'"
Cheng Xu had spent half his life in officialdom—
A man like that knows how to interpret a boss's vague sentence faster than he breathes.
Half a second later he bowed deeply toward the sky.
"In that case, I will boldly train the militia according to my own judgment."
The divine sheet flipped instantly—
"Go boldly!"
Cheng Xu's morale skyrocketed. A heavenly decree from a god using celestial stationery—this was basically a holy proclamation on steroids.
He spun around, roared at the forty-six recruits, and began training.
The recruits… were tragic.
Crooked lines.
Off-beat steps.
Half of them couldn't tell left from right.
Cheng Xu shouted "Left foot!"
Four men stepped out with their right.
After much effort—and much suffering—he finally whipped them into something resembling a line.
Satisfied that they wouldn't immediately fall over, he let them practice queue formation while he dragged Shansier toward the artisan yard.
It was bustling like a festival.
After all, being an artisan was the most favored profession in Gaojia Village—Tianzun showered them with extra rations and privileges.
Everywhere, hammers rang like metal rain, saws buzzed, and artisans worked like overjoyed bees.
Cheng Xu had expected to find the same sight as government workshops elsewhere: exhausted, starving craftsmen in rags, pale as ghosts, slaving away for nothing.
Instead—
These artisans were well-fed, neat, bright-faced, with muscles full of blood and energy.
They didn't look like craftsmen from the county.
They looked like a completely different species.
"What… is happening here?" Cheng Xu gasped.
Shansier smiled. "Tianzun favors skilled people. Everyone knows craftsmen get rewarded generously. Many villagers without a trade are secretly trying to learn one—especially the migrants in the short-term labor housing. Everyone wants into the artisan quarter."
This overwhelmed Cheng Xu a little, but he shrugged. Not his problem.
He was a soldier, not a micromanager.
He approached the smith workshop.
Everyone inside was forging armor plates.
"You, you, and you—stop the armor plates. Go forge a few dozen proper spearheads. We're making long spears."
He pointed to others.
"You three—stop the armor plates too. Go make a few dozen waist knives."
The blacksmiths glanced at Shansier.
He nodded—Tianzun approved.
They immediately complied.
Cheng Xu continued walking—
And stopped when he spotted Li Da hunched over a blueprint, studying it with the intensity of a monk decoding scripture.
Then Li Da turned and began hammering a thin piece of iron wire into bizarre coils.
Twisting. Wrapping. Looping.
Cheng Xu frowned.
"What weapon is that supposed to be?"
Li Da replied, dead serious, "Tianzun's new-style firearm."
"And the iron wire? What does that have to do with a firearm?"
"I don't really know. But the drawing shows it. I'm just following it."
Cheng Xu glanced at the blueprint.
The coil-like thing was labeled:
"Spring."
Spring…? Something that springs?
Do you squeeze it and let it snap out to stab someone's eyes?
He picked it up and pressed.
It flattened instantly.
No bounce. No force. Nothing.
Cheng Xu burst out laughing.
"This thing is useless! You made it wrong."
Li Da looked miserable.
"Yes, I've failed every attempt."
Cheng Xu was about to tell him to make something normal when Shansier tugged his sleeve.
"Mortal, the blueprint is an immortal firearm. Tianzun assigned Li Da to study it and gave him no deadline. He may take years."
Cheng Xu shut his mouth.
"All right, then research slowly. I don't really understand this stuff, but I can tell you: the important part isn't the shape. It's the material. Don't use rigid iron. Use something with elasticity. Even bamboo has more springiness than this dead iron."
Outside the box, Li Daoxuan nearly choked.
Then he silently raised a thumbs-up.
A blind cat just caught a dying mouse.
The man had no idea what he was talking about—but accidentally said something correct.
A spring's soul isn't its spiral shape.
It's materials science.
Only when Europe developed spring steel did springs actually become practical.
Materials science is foundational science.
And foundational science is precisely what this dynasty lacks.
Without foundations, all the genius ideas in the world stay stuck as daydreams—just like how humans couldn't build real airplanes before understanding aerodynamics.
With no knowledge of materials science, Li Da could hammer for a lifetime…
And he still wouldn't make a real spring.
Footnotes
He Instructor's "two hands" motto – A playful reference to real-world political slogans about dual development, but here it means: mortal tactics + immortal tactics = complete toolkit.
Artisans treated like VIPs – A sharp contrast to historical imperial workshops, where craftsmen were often underpaid, overworked, and basically expendable. Gaojia Village is a utopia by comparison.
Springs and materials science – Historically accurate: true springs only became widespread once spring steel and controlled heat-treating were developed. Before that, nobody could make reliable bouncy metal.