When Zhao Ying stepped into the library, she froze.
The place was buried in a sea of manuscript paper.
Ink stains, scattered drafts, half-filled diagrams—it looked less like a study and more like the aftermath of a scholar's storm.
At the center, a middle-aged man was hunched over a desk, furiously scribbling on a mountain of notes. Beside him stood a teenage noble boy, around thirteen or fourteen, arguing animatedly.
Zhao Ying listened for a while… and quickly realized she didn't understand a single word.
"Mass… friction coefficient… horizontal force… vertical force…"
What kind of demonic incantations were these?
But Li Daoxuan, watching from his side of the worlds, smiled knowingly.
So this was what Song Yingxing had been up to. The man was learning fast—he'd already mastered elementary mathematics and was now plunging into the mysteries of physics and chemistry.
He was a little behind young Master Bai, but catching up fast enough to make the boy sweat.
Song Yingxing was muttering to himself while writing,
"Now that I understand matter is made up of these… particles—molecules, atoms, whatever they're called—it makes sense that a heated spring regains its shape after cooling. The change must happen at the particle level… though we can't see it."
Young Master Bai nodded. "Then let's see it! If we forge a magnifying lens, we can observe it directly. We already learned how lenses work. I'll get a glassworker to craft one."
Song Yingxing shook his head. "No use. Our craftsmen can barely make lenses that magnify twice, thrice at best. To see atoms, we'd need hundreds of times magnification—and our glasswork is far from that."
Li Daoxuan couldn't help but chuckle.
So that's where they were stuck. In his own world, modern students learned these things using microscopes. But the people inside his "little world" had neither the means nor the tools.
The so-called "Heavenly Texts" mentioned celestial devices, but those were as unreachable as immortality itself.
Without experiments, how could they truly learn?
"Looks like I'll have to lend them a hand," Li Daoxuan muttered.
He pulled up an online store and started searching.
Of course, there was no such thing as a "miniature microscope for tiny worlds." The only available ones were human-sized. But after comparing measurements, Li realized a microscope placed upright would only be a bit taller than the five-story school building in Gaojia Village.
Perfect.
He could set the microscope beside the school. The little people could climb to the rooftop, build a small scaffold, and peer through the eyepiece from there.
The observation tray would be at about the second-floor height—perfect for them to place samples from the window.
"Good enough!" Li grinned and gleefully tossed microscopes, lab glassware, beakers, and every kind of experimental kit into his cart.
A whole bundle of physics, chemistry, and biology tools—checked out in one click.
Meanwhile, Zhao Ying had already stepped forward.
"Excuse me… who is Master Song?"
The man raised his head from the storm of papers, eyes bleary but bright. "That would be me."
"I was sent by Instructor He," Zhao Ying said, "He said you could provide blueprints for cavalry bows."
Song Yingxing waved his brush casually. "Ah, that's easy enough. For mounted use, the best is the Kaiyuan composite bow—the border troops use it. Surely Gaojia Village can craft those by now?"
Young Master Bai laughed and shook his head. "We can't! The Heavenly Master completely skipped the art of bowmaking. We jumped straight from farming tools to firearms."
Song Yingxing sighed. "Well, then."
He rolled up his sleeves and began to draw. In a few swift strokes, a detailed Kaiyuan bow took shape on the parchment—complete with notes on curvature, tension, and horn placement.
He handed it to Zhao Ying without even looking up. "Here. Take it."
Then he dove right back into his manuscripts.
Zhao Ying blinked.
Did he just draw a border army weapon from memory… in seconds?
What kind of monster scholar was this?
Li Daoxuan laughed from above. "Don't worry, Zhao Ying. That bow's just temporary. Once the muskets roll out… even the cavalry will carry fireguns."
Dragon Cavalry, he thought, amused. Now that's something to fear.
Just then, a soft glow flickered on the outside of the box.
At first, Li Daoxuan thought one of his villages was ringing an alarm bell. But when he looked closer, he saw the truth—the "Rescue Index" had reached a new milestone: 1,500 points.
And beneath it, a new button appeared.
[Expand]
The word pulsed like a heartbeat.
"New function? Expand… Could it really mean what I think it means?"
He rubbed his hands in excitement. The idea of enlarging the viewing box had crossed his mind many times. Right now, it was only about two meters long and one meter wide—barely enough to view a 500-by-300-meter area inside the miniature world.
Too small.
Far too small.
Even simple miracles like rainfall were becoming troublesome. His limited field meant he could only make rain over that narrow rectangle. The result? Crops suffered, irrigation lagged, and he had to rely on villagers digging canals from artificial ponds.
That wasn't divine at all—it was just clumsy.
But with this new "Expansion" function, all those limits might vanish.
Li Daoxuan grinned and stretched out his finger toward the button… then froze midair.
Wait.
He looked around his bedroom.
The box sat between his computer desk and his bed. A chair in front, a wall behind.
There wasn't a single spare inch around it.
If the box expanded right here… something would break.
Best-case scenario, the furniture.
Worst-case scenario? The box itself.
And if that shattered—he didn't even want to imagine the consequences.
Possibilities flashed through his mind:
The miniature world imploding.
The tiny people spilling into the real world, Ming-dynasty villagers running through his apartment.
Or worse—two worlds colliding in an explosion that erased both.
He shivered. "Nope. Not taking that risk."
He took a deep breath and looked around again.
The bedroom was too cramped. He'd need a wider space.
After a moment's thought, he nodded.
"The living room."
He started clearing furniture, dragging tables and chairs aside until the center was wide open. Then, with great care, he carried the box out of his room and set it gently in the middle of the living room floor.
The next step… would change everything.