"Set off at once!"
Wang Cheng'en's order cracked through the dusk like a war drum.
The camp erupted into motion — horses snorted, armor clattered, boots pounded the frozen earth. Thousands of soldiers surged toward Dragon Gate Ferry, the great crossing on the upper Yellow River.
If the Yellow River was a dragon, this was the spot where mortals dared to leap. The old saying — "a fish leaping over the Dragon Gate" — wasn't just a metaphor here; it was a legend carved into the bones of the land.
Even Dao Xuan Tianzun, watching through the shimmering pane of the divine box, found himself intrigued.
Dragon Gate, huh?
He'd read about it — the Qin lords, the Tang emperors, all those ancient heroes who'd crossed here to change the fate of dynasties. Even in another line of time, Li Zicheng would one day march east from this very spot to topple the Ming.
It was history's revolving door.
And Dao Xuan Tianzun was eager to peek through it.
His gaze followed Shi Jian and Bai Mao's column as they advanced, banners fluttering, spears flashing like scales of a metal serpent.
"Alright, let's see what the famous Dragon Gate looks like up close…"
Then the view stopped.
Thunk.
His divine field of vision hit an invisible wall. The soldiers kept marching — and simply walked out of existence, vanishing past the boundary of the box.
"Wait, what—hey! Hey! Come back!" Dao Xuan Tianzun's voice echoed in the void. "Don't tell me the box ends here!?"
He slammed his palms against the invisible glass. Nothing. The world refused to extend.
"Aaah! My pilgrimage! My Dragon Gate!"
He brooded for a moment, then snapped his fingers.
"Think, Dao Xuan. Think. You're a deity, not a tourist on a budget tour."
Then he remembered: Shi Jian's cloth doll — the little stitched effigy of Dao Xuan Tianzun that hung from the soldier's belt, hand-sewn by the women of Chengcheng County. Embroidered face, little golden thread halo — a local charm for safety and blessings.
Could he co-sense through that?
"Well," he said, grinning, "no harm trying."
He jabbed the "Co-Sensing" rune.
The world lurched.
Colors fractured into shards of light, then reformed — and Dao Xuan Tianzun found himself hanging by a string, bobbing rhythmically with every step.
He was the doll now.
"Whoa—whoa! I'm swinging! This is not majestic at all!"
Shi Jian was riding a horse, so every stride made Dao Xuan's cloth body sway like a drunk wind chime. The dizzying motion made his immortal head spin.
"Nope. Nope! Not the doll getting dizzy — me!"
He tried to steady himself by grabbing the string above his head… only to realize his "hands" were just two stitched cotton balls. Round, fingerless, utterly useless.
"Oh, come on!"
Determined not to lose dignity, Dao Xuan improvised. He smashed his plush palms together, hooked the thread between them, and climbed — an immortal scaling a mortal belt like a tiny monkey god.
After a few heroic wiggles, he made it to the edge of Shi Jian's armor and sat down. The view was steadier, and the dizziness faded.
Perfect.
Then, spotting the dagger tucked at Shi Jian's side, Dao Xuan Tianzun got an idea. He rubbed his cloth hands against the blade until snick! the string snapped.
Free at last.
He climbed higher — up the man's chest, over his pauldron — and perched proudly on his shoulder like a celestial parrot.
Shi Jian rode on, oblivious… until Bai Mao suddenly gawked.
"Uh, Shi Jian! Shi Jian!"
"What?"
"Look at your shoulder!"
Shi Jian turned — and nearly fell off his horse.
The tiny Dao Xuan Tianzun doll was sitting there, alive, its stitched mouth curving into a smirk.
"Don't panic," the doll said casually. "Just enjoy the view."
Shi Jian blinked.
Bai Mao blinked harder.
Finally, Shi Jian stammered, "Has… has Dao Xuan Tianzun descended to issue a divine decree?"
"Nah," the little doll replied. "Just sightseeing."
Both men went utterly speechless.
So the great Dao Xuan Tianzun… was tagging along as a plush toy tourist.
By the time they reached Dragon Gate Ferry, Dao Xuan Tianzun was already unimpressed.
He'd imagined towering cliffs, thunderous water, maybe a few ethereal dragons breaking the surface. Instead — a narrow river bend, barely 120 meters across, lined with muddy sandbanks and overworked ferrymen.
He sighed.
"Scammed again. Every 'famous site' is the same: a river, a sign, and some overpriced temple incense."
Down below, soldiers worked feverishly to build a pontoon bridge. Ropes were stretched across the river, planks laid, boats lashed together.
Dao Xuan Tianzun watched for a minute. Then yawned.
"Logistics," he muttered. "The least cinematic part of war."
With a flick of thought, he cut the link. "Alright, enough sightseeing. Time to find something more entertaining."
Meanwhile, in Shanxi Province…
The air over Hejin County was thick with smoke and blood.
Bu Zhan Ni's rebel army had stormed the gates by dawn, and by noon, the once-proud city lay in ruins. Hejin — once known as Longmen County, cradle of ancient heroes — now echoed only with the screams of the dying.
In the county yamen, Bu Zhan Ni lounged in the magistrate's chair, a severed head lying near his boots.
His lieutenant, Shuangchi Hu, burst in and reported, "Boss, the yamen runners and local militia are all dead. The brothers are searching for grain."
Bu Zhan Ni nodded. "Good. Once we finish here, we march south. Yongji's next. I hear Xing Honglang has set up a fort at the Gudu Ferry. Let's go pay her a visit."
Shuangchi Hu hesitated. "Boss… Xing Honglang's already sworn to Wang Jiayin. She's one of his Thirty-Six Camp Commanders now. If we hit her, it's like spitting in Big Brother Wang's face."
Bu Zhan Ni sneered. "Wang Jiayin's 'face'? I'll grind it into the mud if I feel like it!"
That's when a quiet, sharp voice cut in from the doorway.
Li Zicheng, captain of the Old Eighth Squad, stepped into the light, bowing slightly. His expression was calm, but his tone was cold.
"Boss," he said,
"That absolutely must not be done."
Trivia Corner –
The Dragon Gate (龙门渡口)
The Dragon Gate Ferry near Hejin, Shanxi, isn't just a poetic metaphor — it's one of the oldest river crossings on the upper Yellow River. Ancient Chinese believed that carps who could leap the Dragon Gate's rapids would transform into dragons, symbolizing transcendence through struggle.
Historical Note: During the Spring and Autumn era, Qin forces used this crossing to ambush the Jin state.
Tang Dynasty: Li Yuan (Emperor Gaozu) crossed here to reclaim the Central Plains, launching the Tang dynasty.
Folklore: Even Li Zicheng, the Dashing King of the late Ming, was said to "leap the Dragon Gate" — not as a fish, but as a rebel who overthrew an empire.
Today, the phrase "Fish Leaping Over the Dragon Gate" survives in idioms and school proverbs, urging scholars to strive for success.
Dao Xuan Tianzun's verdict?
"Overhyped view, great symbolism. 2 stars. Bring snacks."