The cart moved. It actually moved.
Ma Tianzheng stared as the sun-shade was lifted further and further, and the cart accelerated accordingly.
The more sunlight it got, the faster it ran?
Impossible. Impossible!
This had to be a lie — all of it!
He shouted, panicked:
"Close it!"
It was pure nonsense — he had no authority here — but the newbie driver had been trained under Zheng Daniu, who habitually barked "Close it!" like a thunderclap. The poor driver had developed a Pavlovian reflex, so the moment he heard those words, no matter who yelled them, he yanked the panel shut.
The vehicle immediately lost power, gliding forward on inertia before rolling to a stop.
The steering driver glared back. "Hey! What are you doing?!"
The sun-shade driver scratched his head. "This Daoist suddenly yelled 'close it,' and I thought it was Daniu yelling again…"
Everyone: "…"
All eyes turned on Ma Tianzheng.
But he didn't even notice the stares. He still had his head stuck out the window, twisting his neck painfully to stare at the closed sun-shade, eyes wide and trembling.
"It's true… it's really true. Close the shade and it stops moving. It's real…"
The villagers sighed.
"People from outside really don't know anything, huh."
Once, outsiders mocked them for having no knowledge. Now? The roles had reversed beautifully.
The driver opened the shade again, and the cart rolled forward along the cement road.
Before long, they reached Wangjia Village.
The villagers hopped off to work. The two drivers waved:
"We'll come get you in one shichen!"
The villagers waved back. "One shichen is plenty!"
The vehicle rotated around a round cement platform, turning back. Ma Tianzheng was still frozen in his seat.
"You're not getting off, Daozhang?" the drivers asked.
Ma Tianzheng pointed at the village — the moist soil, the lush sprouts, the fresh green leaves on the trees — all of it vibrant, thriving, utterly wrong for a land suffering three years of drought.
"What… happened here? Why is everything green?"
The drivers grinned.
"Tianzun invited the Dragon King to bring rain."
"Dragon King?"
Ma Tianzheng staggered. He hadn't even recovered from the solar-chicken god, and now they threw a Dragon King at him?
It had to be a lie. All of it. Some enormous collective lie!
The drivers leaned in, whispering dramatically:
"The Saintess said the Dragon King didn't want to come. But Tianzun grabbed him by the neck — one hand! — dragged him over the fields, and forced him to rain. The Dragon King didn't dare resist. In Tianzun's hand he was like a tiny snake, completely obedient. Shame we can't see it — only the Saintess can see Tianzun manifest."
Ma Tianzheng's mind: Lies! Lies! All lies!
"Daozhang, if you're not getting off, we're heading back to Gaojia Village."
"May I… ride with you to Gaojia Village?" he asked weakly.
"Of course!" They laughed. "Just stop sticking your head out the window. We're terrified a tree branch's gonna knock it clean off."
Ma Tianzheng pulled his head back inside. His neck was almost numb from twisting anyway.
The cart turned and headed toward Gaojia Village.
His thoughts drifted wildly. Since childhood he had practiced the Dao, more than forty years of devotion. Yet he had never once seen a divine manifestation. His faith had eroded over time, slowly, quietly.
But today…
Today, his Dao heart — long dormant — began to stir again.
The cart reached the outskirts of Gaojia Village. The steering driver pointed upward.
"Look! The Dragon King! Daozhang, you're lucky — Tianzun's dragging him out again for rain."
Ma Tianzheng snapped out of his thoughts and thrust his head outside.
Above the fields floated a low cloud. From it emerged an enormous dragon head, jaws open wide, releasing a steady mist of rain over the fields.
"A real Dragon King!"
Ma Tianzheng screamed:
"A real Dragon King! I saw it! With my own eyes! Forty years — forty whole years!"
Then he burst into tears.
"My Dao heart was fading! I nearly lost faith! In the dead of night, I questioned everything I'd ever learned… I almost became a worldly heretic! But now — finally — finally I witness a divine face…!"
Meanwhile, Li Daoxuan was happily slurping a bowl of Hechuan lamb noodles. Whenever he made rain, his vision had to stay fixed on that spot — rain didn't fall where he couldn't "see."
A long noodle slid into his mouth when the solar bus returned. Then a man jumped out — a Daoist in full garb: robes, Daoist topknot, hemp sandals, a frayed bagua emblem on his vest, a dust whisk in hand, and even a three-foot sword strapped to his back.
Not just a Daoist — a wandering Daoist. The type who walked every road under heaven.
Usually, when a "wild little human" came, Li Daoxuan didn't interact right away. He liked to observe first, understand the personality, then decide whether to "manifest."
But a Daoist?
Oh, that was different.
This profession!
A fake priest meeting a real god — how could he not play with this?
His mischievous spirit lit up instantly.
As the Daoist sprinted under the Dragon King cloud, Li Daoxuan abruptly shut off the medical nebulizer. The dragon head withdrew into the cloud and vanished.
"Huh?"
Ma Tianzheng froze.
Why did the Dragon King flee the moment he arrived?
Li Daoxuan reached into his shelf and grabbed a Nezha figurine. He thrust it into the cloud box and swooped it through the air dramatically.
Ma Tianzheng shrieked:
"Nezha, the Third Prince! Ahhh! So fast! So fast!"
Nezha circled once and vanished — because Li withdrew the figurine again.
Ma Tianzheng was stunned for five whole seconds… then enlightenment struck him like thunder.
"The Dragon King saw Nezha coming… and fled to avoid a beating!"