Xing Hong-lang didn't understand.
And Li Daoxuan knew well she wouldn't understand.
Only modern people truly grasp how world-changing the flow of goods can be for a region.
If he wanted his miniature realm to thrive—real prosperity, real bustle—he needed merchants. Real merchants. But Shaanxi was overrun with bandits. Proper traders wouldn't dare enter. Even if they did, they would only touch major towns—Xi'an, county seats—not some backwoods place like Gaojia Village.
So he had only one option.
Salt smugglers.
Gao Yiye relayed Tianzun's message: "If you're willing to come often, our village will even prepare a large residence. A proper house. For you and your people to rest. Much better than sleeping in tents in the cold wind."
Xing Hong-lang broke into a grin. "Dao Xuan Tianzun is generous! If your village is showing such hospitality, I, Xing Hong-lang, won't be ungrateful. I'll visit often."
"Most welcome," Gao Yiye said brightly.
That night, Xing Hong-lang indeed stayed. The promised mansion wasn't built yet, so her crew set up camp by the big pond. Salt smugglers had slept in far worse places, so this was practically luxury. They cooked, rested, and—rare joy—slept a full, peaceful night. At dawn, they set off toward Shanxi.
Gao Yiye watched them leave, puzzled. She lifted her face toward the heavens. "Tianzun, when you gift houses to villagers, it always appears instantly—descending from the sky. Why didn't you reveal one for Xing Hong-lang?"
Li Daoxuan smiled. "Because she doesn't know me well yet. If I perform miracles too early, I might scare her off. She wouldn't return."
"Eh? But seeing a miracle should make her admire you, not run away…"
Li Daoxuan chuckled.
Humans were far too complicated for simple rules.
"Beep… beep… beep…"
His phone rang. He closed the lid of the scenery box and answered. "Second Aunt? Long time no see."
His second aunt was one of his countryside relatives. Earlier, when he was figuring out soil pH and fertilizer usage, he had asked her for advice.
Her warm voice came through: "Your father said you're not coming home this Spring Festival family gathering. Why not, child?"
Li Daoxuan glanced at the scenery box. He couldn't tell the truth. "I'm busy with online video work… If I go home, I'll be trapped for ten days…"
His aunt chuckled. "Busy, busy, always busy! Still, you're doing well—bought your parents a two-million-yuan apartment, everyone is praising you. You don't need to stay ten days. Just come for one day. We can set off fireworks here! Come spend a day with the family."
Her words suddenly sparked something in him.
Fireworks.
Right!
He could buy fireworks in the countryside—legally and easily. No shady city channels needed.
"Alright, Auntie," he said cheerfully. "Wait for me. I'll come."
Days passed in a blink—
Spring Festival arrived.
Li Daoxuan woke early. One glance into his tiny kingdom showed Gaojia Village draped in holiday joy. High walls covered in red decorations, villagers bustling, even the laborer village and penal-work village were lively.
Surely even bandits and soldiers would avoid causing trouble on a day like this.
He packed his bag, joined his parents, and boarded the slow green train to a far suburb of Shuangqing City—a rural town untouched by high-speed rails.
And yes—fireworks shops were open.
Spring Festival magic.
Li Daoxuan bought fireworks with the enthusiasm of a man who had waited an entire year for this moment. The shopkeeper immediately spotted he was a city kid.
"Come to the countryside to play with firecrackers?"
"Exactly. Visiting my second aunt."
"Then have fun!"
That night, reunited with family, they feasted and blasted fireworks loud enough to summon ancestors.
The next morning, Li Daoxuan departed. He returned with a backpack stuffed with an explosive fortune. He didn't dare take the train—too risky—so he hired a rideshare car for several hundred yuan.
He arrived home and immediately sat beside the scenery box, itching to continue.
SimCity 1627 was fun, yes—
but now began SimCity 1628.
Chongzhen Year One. New Year's Day.
Gaojia Village buzzed with a fresh spirit. Counselor Tan had purchased loads of red dye before the festival, and villagers were now sprinting everywhere in matching red outfits like a migrating flock of happy firecrackers.
Among all this red—
Li Daoxuan spotted an odd, solitary figure training on a snowy hillside.
Gao Chu-wu.
In the freezing wind, he wore only a thin cotton shirt, sleeves and trouser legs tied tight. He punched the air again and again: "Hei! Ha!"
Guan-zhong Hongquan. Thirty-six linked movements.
He had learned only a few, repeating them endlessly—"Placing the Wall Painting," "Tiger Scaling the Cliff," "Arhat Carrying Treasure," "Judge Removing the Boot."
Cheng Xu was right: humiliation was the best motivation.
Of the entire village militia, Gao Chu-wu trained hardest—ferocious, relentless. Even Zheng Dan-niu couldn't keep up. Probably because Zheng Dan-niu had never tasted the bittersweet agony of love.
Li Daoxuan couldn't help giving Gao Chu-wu a silent thumbs-up.
Then—hold on?
He shifted his divine view.
Behind a boulder on the far side of the slope… someone was hiding.
The refugee who called himself "Grandpa Rabbit."
Flat-Rabbit was crouched low, peeking at Gao Chu-wu's practice.
And—
Whenever Gao Chu-wu punched, Flat-Rabbit punched.
Whenever Gao Chu-wu kicked, Flat-Rabbit kicked.
Li Daoxuan snorted with laughter.
Secretly learning martial arts—the classic ancient taboo. Usually punished by being beaten until one regrets having bones.
So the question now…
Should he expose him?
If he poked Flat-Rabbit with a divine finger while the man was fully absorbed in copying Gao Chu-wu's moves…
Flat-Rabbit might actually die of fright on the spot.
Footnotes
Thirty-six linked movements — Martial arts manuals love big numbers. Doesn't matter if half the moves are just dramatic variations of "punch harder."
Arhat Carrying Treasure — Ancient martial artists never missed a chance to give techniques names that sound like temple souvenirs.
Flat-Rabbit — Stealth level: extremely low.
Secretly copying martial arts — Historically, a fast way to lose teeth.