Dao Xuan Tianzun couldn't help laughing at Bai Yuan's over-interpretation. The "divine ship" this time wasn't plastic like his earlier models—it was made of sheet iron, coated with a layer of UV-resistant composite plating. Naturally, it would need to be repainted for looks.
But since Cai Xinzi had wanted the model to look elegantly antique, she had painted it with a wood-grain finish. The result looked exactly like an ancient tower ship.
Who would've thought that such a realistic color scheme would seem wrong to the little people below?
"Go aboard," Dao Xuan Tianzun wrote across the sky. "To the captain's room."
Bai Yuan immediately dismissed his wild interpretations and led his group to the side of the massive ship.
Although this was a river vessel—not a seagoing warship—it still towered above their heads. To the tiny folk, the gunwale was like a cliff. Climbing aboard required poses far too ungraceful for Bai Yuan's liking.
He froze halfway up, pride clashing with practicality.
"Master!" shouted one of his attendants. "There's a ladder here!"
Indeed, a small metal ladder extended neatly down the side. Clearly, the ship's maker had considered even the smallest details—it was beautifully designed.
Bai Yuan's confidence returned instantly. He climbed up with an air of practiced elegance, strode across the deck, and entered the captain's cabin.
Inside, he immediately spotted a round steering wheel, its purpose obvious even to a scholar. Beside it was a switch—identical to the one used on their small train engine.
Bai Yuan's eyes gleamed. "Ah, this couldn't be easier! Just press this switch to move forward, steer with this wheel, and press it again to stop. Hah! A gentleman's intellect alone can master it!"
Zhang Yuanwai was astonished. "That's it? No sails? No oars?"
Bai Yuan puffed out his chest. "Of course not! The Tianzun's creations run on immortal power. How could mortal logic explain such wonders?"
Zhang dared not question divine gifts, though he knew the Yellow River well enough to worry. "Even with immortal power, such a large ship must handle poorly in turns or docking. Brother Bai, you mustn't press that switch recklessly."
Bai Yuan had already been reaching for it—but he froze, hand hovering midair. After a moment's thought, he drew it back. "You're right. Sailing is not among the refined arts of a gentleman."
One of his attendants stepped forward. "Master, I know a little about rowing."
It made sense. The Bai Family Fortress sat beside Horseshoe Lake; most of the servants had grown up swimming and rowing small boats.
Still, none of them had ever handled something this gigantic.
"Good!" Bai Yuan said. "Gather everyone who's ever rowed. Zhang, your Heyang County must have many seasoned fishermen—men who know the river's moods. Call them up! Together, we'll learn to command this great ship. Once it's ready to sail, no river bandit will dare come near us again!"
Zhang Yuanwai beamed. "Brother Bai speaks wisely!"
He turned to the fishermen on their smaller boats and bellowed, "Those good with water—those who can handle a boat—come aboard! Help Master Bai test the Tianzun's divine vessel!"
The fishermen had been itching to climb aboard since the moment it descended. At those words, a dozen of them scrambled up eagerly, darting across the deck, touching everything in awe.
Meanwhile, Dao Xuan Tianzun watched from above, carefully monitoring the ship through his control box. His gloved hand hovered over four buttons—East, South, West, North—ready to adjust his perspective instantly.
The Yellow River was vast, stretching beyond the width of his view. The box itself was five meters wide; if the ship drifted to the center, even his hand couldn't reach in time. Should the vessel capsize, the little people might drown before he could react.
So his hand remained poised, ready to shift the scene and keep the ship near the edge of his vision—within arm's reach for rescue.
Tension filled both worlds—inside and outside the box.
Then click!
Bai Yuan pressed the switch.
A small motor whirred to life. Beneath the stern, a propeller began to spin, churning up white froth.
"There's something spinning under the ship!" shouted a fisherman from the back. "It's pushing us forward!"
"Such a ship exists?"
"That's why it's a divine ship!"
"Turn left! Quick, left!" cried an old boatman who knew the river's tricky currents. "If you wait till the flow catches you, you'll smash into the rocks!"
Bai Yuan gripped the wheel, sweat dripping down his forehead. But within minutes, his confidence returned. He steered smoothly, grinning from ear to ear.
"Hahaha! Easier than I thought! This drives smoother than the little train. The train can only follow its rails—but this ship, ah, this divine ship—can roam the Yellow River freely!"
One fisherman laughed, "It's smoother than any fishing boat—steady, fast! With a deck this big, I could cast a giant net and haul in more fish than ever!"
Another snorted. "Fish? You fool! With a ship this size, haul grain instead! Fill her up and sell it north to Shaanbei, where a single dou of rice costs a fortune—you'd be rich overnight!"
"Ha! Rich maybe, but you'd die before spending a coin. Bandits would gut you halfway there."
"Only because we used to be weak! With this ship, we're strong. Who dares rob us now? We could trade anywhere!"
"Careful, you'll talk yourself into rebellion!"
The men roared with laughter.
After a successful test run, Bai Yuan guided the ship back toward Qiachuan Dock. A fisherman tossed down a rope, looping it around one of the wooden mooring posts—but quickly realized the problem.
"This won't hold!" he cried. "One rope won't restrain a ship this size! If the current surges at night, it'll drift away!"
"An anchor!" an old sailor shouted. "We need an anchor! The government's ships use iron ones—four claws. Ours must have one too! Look for it!"
Sure enough, they found a massive anchor mounted on a frame near the stern. One press of its release lever—and splash!—it plunged into the river, holding firm.
A cheer erupted from the deck.
"Success! Success! We've got it working!"
And thus, the people of Heyang and Bai Yuan's men, for the first time, mastered the Tianzun's divine ship—an iron beast upon the Yellow River, symbol of progress, power, and a hint of freedom that made the common folk dream a little bigger that day.
Trivia: The Yellow River and Folk Sailing Traditions
Historical Context:
The Yellow River (Huang He) has been both a blessing and a curse throughout Chinese history. Known as "China's sorrow," it often flooded but also sustained countless river communities. River transport was the lifeline of inland trade before railways—especially for salt, grain, and military logistics.
Traditional River Life:
Boatmen on the Yellow River developed their own customs—songs for timing the oars, small altars to river gods, and taboos like never whistling on deck (believed to summon windstorms).
Vessels and Craftsmanship:
In late imperial times, lou chuan (tower ships) were used for military patrols and grain transport. Their construction blended carpentry with local folk superstition: the first plank was nailed while chanting auspicious verses to "seal the river's mouth."
Folk Irony:
To ordinary people, a bigger boat symbolized safety, prosperity, and independence. Yet, historically, such confidence often preceded uprisings—river communities were among the earliest to join peasant rebellions.
In other words, the Yellow River didn't just carry goods—it carried revolutions.