Bai Yuan lowered his voice.
"It's not just that. If Wang Jiayin's men recognize you in the middle of the fight and start shouting things like 'Wang Er, why are you on the other side?'—how many people here do you think will hear your name?"
Wang Er froze.
Only then did it truly sink in.
He was still the most wanted rebel under heaven. Wherever his name surfaced, magistrates sharpened knives. If he intended to take refuge with Gaojia Village, then disappearing was not optional—it was survival. Letting a thousand men from Heyang hear his name would be inviting trouble later, the kind that never knocks.
Without another word, Wang Er grabbed a cloth and tied it over his face. Then he held out his hand.
"Give me a yellow hat."
Bai Yuan blinked. "Shouldn't you be wearing white?"
"White hats are for scholars. Blue hats are for craftsmen. People like me?"
Wang Er shrugged. "Yellow will do."
Bai Yuan thought about it. Unfortunately, it made sense.
So Wang Er put on a yellow hat, masked his face, and had all one hundred of his men do the same. The result was immediate and perfect—they now looked exactly like ordinary laborers trying not to inhale dust.
At that moment, Zhang Yuanwai was also organizing the Heyang militia.
Compared to Gaojia Village's men, their equipment was… optimistic. No armor. Weapons from several different centuries. As he was inspecting the lines, he noticed the pile of yellow hats left behind by the fleeing laborers.
Sturdy. Thick.
Better than nothing.
And just like that, the entire Heyang militia picked up yellow hats and put them on.
Mixed with Wang Er's men—same hats, same clothes—there was no way to tell them apart anymore.
Wang Er finally relaxed.
No one would recognize him now.
Dao Xuan Tianzun could not see Qiachuan Dock from where his gaze rested, so his attention remained above Heyang County.
The city was in mild chaos.
The moment word spread that bandits were coming, the people panicked—despite not knowing which bandits.
"Did you hear? The magistrate took the militia to Qiachuan Dock!"
"They say a huge rebel force is landing there!"
"Who is it?"
"No idea. Someone surnamed Wang. Supposedly worse than Fan Shanyue."
"That's bad."
"Why defend the dock? Shouldn't they guard the city instead?"
"You're talking nonsense. Hold the dock, and the county lives!"
The argument escalated rapidly into enthusiastic insults involving ancestors. After that brief exchange of intelligence, everyone ran toward the southeast corner of the city, staring uselessly into the distance.
Thirty li away.
Nothing to see.
But staring felt productive.
Gao Yiye, Shansier, Qiu Ju, and Dong Xue moved through the chaos together. None of them could fight. In a crowd like this, it should have been dangerous.
Except for the low-hanging cloud drifting quietly above them.
Gao Yiye sighed.
"They don't know the Tianzun is watching over them. In Gaojia Village, people wouldn't panic like this."
Shansier nodded.
"Which is why the picture books and Dao ballads need to come here soon. It's time Dao Xuan Tianzun's name spreads through Heyang."
He paused, then brightened.
"Saintess—how many volumes of The Demon-Slaying Chronicles of Dao Xuan Tianzun are finished now?"
Gao Yiye grinned.
"Currently drawing Episode Five."
Shansier's curiosity ignited.
"What's this one about?"
"Well," Gao Yiye said cheerfully, "Chang'e falls in love with the Tianzun. Marshal Tianpeng gets jealous and harasses her. The Tianzun gets angry, defeats Tianpeng, hands him to the Jade Emperor—who then banishes him to the mortal world as Zhu Bajie."
"Pfft—!"
Shansier nearly sprayed tea.
Outside the box, Li Dao Xuan was happily eating an old-fashioned sponge cake. Hearing this, he froze.
So this was what they were doing to Journey to the West now?
His hand twitched.
The cake collapsed.
Crumbs—many, many crumbs—fell from the sky.
"Shit."
He tried to grab them, but he wasn't actually divine. The larger pieces he caught. The powdery bits slipped through and rained down into the city.
A man running through the street felt something thump onto his head.
"Who threw that?!"
He looked up.
The sky was raining strange, round objects—big and small—falling like snow.
"What is that?!"
"Something's falling from the sky!"
"Watch your heads!"
Some people fled indoors. Others noticed it didn't hurt and simply stood there, staring.
The objects were light. Soft. Some even bounced slightly.
Within moments, the entire city was covered.
The people of Heyang stared in silence.
Only Gao Yiye and the others looked up calmly.
"The Tianzun is performing a miracle," they said.
The people had never seen cake before.
But this was Heyang.
A county whose greatest skill was eating.
It took them one breath to connect falling objects with food.
"Looks like flour!"
"I smell eggs!"
"And sugar!"
"Why think so much? Try it!"
One brave soul popped a piece into his mouth.
His expression changed instantly.
He dove to the ground, spread his arms over the crumbs like a starving tiger, eyes blazing with murderous intent.
Similar scenes erupted across the city.
Once tasted, no one asked questions.
Within minutes, the entire county was crouched on the ground, frantically collecting cake crumbs—history, fear, and rebellion temporarily forgotten.
Sometimes, faith didn't descend as thunder.
Sometimes, it fell as dessert.