Everyone hit their knees at once.
Only two men stayed upright—Zhan Seng the monk and the envoy. Both looked around, completely lost, as if everyone else had just agreed to bow to a random lump of clay.
Zhan Seng's fingers tightened around his staff. His eyes stayed locked on the statue before him—just a man-sized idol, nothing more. It had been hauled here months ago by the Shanxi Expeditionary boys to "boost morale."
He'd seen it plenty of times. Never thought it would talk.
That alone was enough to make even a monk's heart skip.
The envoy looked worse. His mouth opened, but no sound came out—pure, wordless terror.
Inside the statue, Li Daoxuan was having the time of his life.
"Envoy," his gravel-thick voice rumbled from the clay throat, "what you said earlier was quite good. We're all fighting the tyranny of corrupt officials for the sake of the common folk. Infighting only feeds the enemy. On behalf of Chief Xing Honglang—"
a deliberate pause—
"—I accept your terms. From this day forward, Chief Xing shall be counted among the rebel alliance."
The room froze.
Xing Honglang's jaw nearly hit the floor. Her comrades exchanged looks that screamed what did we just hear?
Dao Xuan Tianzun—the Dao Xuan Tianzun—had personally smited bandit scum like Wang Jiayin's men at Qichuan Ferry not long ago!
And now he was joining them?
But nobody dared question a deity. Gods never acted without meaning; mortals were supposed to meditate, not debate.
Zhan Seng blinked, utterly baffled. Nothing in his sutras covered "talking clay deities signing military alliances."
Only one man was smiling: the envoy.
To him, this was divine confirmation. Mission accomplished! Promotion incoming!
Except… that voice chilled him to the marrow. He wanted to run before the clay thing decided to eat his soul.
He clasped his hands in a bow. "Then I shall take my leave!"
He turned and bolted for the door—
"Wait," the voice rumbled behind him. "You cursed me in your heart just now, didn't you?"
The envoy froze mid-step, blood draining from his face. How—how did the statue know? Was this god or demon?
"Don't worry," Dao Xuan Tianzun continued. "I won't be angry… if you take a face-plant right now."
Without hesitation, the envoy dove forward. Thud! His face met floor with divine precision.
He scrambled upright, eyes wild. "I–is this acceptable?"
"Good. You may leave."
"Thank you, Great One!" he squeaked, and fled like a man chased by thunder.
Li Daoxuan turned his attention to the others. His "little people" still knelt, trembling with reverence. Only Zhan Seng remained standing, staff tight in his grip, cautious eyes darting.
Ignoring the monk, Li Daoxuan said warmly, "Enough bowing. Sit. Speak freely."
Chairs scraped. Nobody dared look him directly in the eyes, but they sat. The air hummed with awe.
This was the first time they'd heard Dao Xuan Tianzun's voice directly.
No more cryptic scrolls, no glowing hand from the heavens—just the deity himself, right here in the room.
For the faithful, it was electric. Their blood sang.
Li Daoxuan chuckled softly. "You're all wondering why I agreed to join Wang Jiayin's army, aren't you?"
Heads nodded instinctively.
The clay mouth stretched into a smile—crack. Fissures snaked across the statue's cheek.
"A heavenly secret," he said lightly. "And heaven's secrets are not to be spoken. Simply hold them steady for a while. Do that, and neither Wang Jiayin nor Bu Zhan Ni will trouble you again."
The believers bowed. "As Dao Xuan Tianzun commands!"
"Remember this," the deity intoned. "Our purpose has never changed—to let the common folk live well. Whoever threatens that, no matter their name, is our enemy."
As he spoke, the clay body began to crumble. Each word loosened another layer. Mud and sand slid down its sides until half the face collapsed entirely.
Light warped. The hall dissolved into a swirl of stars. Beams of color streaked past.
A blink later, Li Daoxuan found himself back in his villa, seated beside the diorama box, heart racing.
"Holy—this new function is awesome."
He scrolled through the box's interface. Sure enough, below the familiar directional buttons sat a brand-new one: Co-Sensing.
From experience, he pieced it together—he didn't need direct vision anymore. As long as a statue existed somewhere, he could manifest through it.
One word for it: overpowered.
He grinned and tapped the button.
Then paused mid-motion.
"Oh wait, I didn't pick which statue—"
Too late.
The first image that flashed in his mind was the colossal golden idol in Chengcheng County. The system took that as confirmation.
A familiar sensation of falling yanked him into the dark again—stars, light, rushing wind—
then impact.
When vision returned, the world looked tiny.
From this height, buildings reached only to his knees.
"Ultraman mode, huh?" he muttered.
He was seated behind the grand City God Temple, encased in gold leaf so bright it could blind a man at noon.
Temptation itched through him—he wanted to stretch, to move, to wave maybe. But he stopped himself. Last time, he'd talked too much and wrecked the body.
This statue had been built by thousands of his followers—he wasn't about to waste their sweat.
So he sat still, majestic and silent.
Until movement below caught his eye.
A tiny figure, chattering away near his feet.
Li Daoxuan focused—and saw it clearly.
Liang Shixian.