Night settled over Hedong Circuit.
The ancients worked from sunrise to sunset, and once darkness fell, the city shut down with admirable discipline. Shops closed. Courtyards dimmed. Even gossip seemed to yawn and go to bed early.
Only the night watchman remained awake, his voice long and ghostly as it drifted through the streets:
"Dry weather—beware of fire—"
Li Daoxuan stared at the clock.
Ten-thirty.
Ten. Thirty.
"…This is a crime," he muttered. "Who sleeps this early?"
As a thoroughly modern human, his biological clock refused to cooperate. There was at least another hour before his brain even considered rest. An hour that desperately needed to be wasted.
Gao Family Village had recently developed a proper nightlife—storytellers, street music, small theatrical troupes. After a full day of labor, villagers liked to unwind with noise and laughter. If he switched his view back there, he could probably catch the same opera for the fiftieth time.
Which was precisely the problem.
Watching the same thing every night was how souls withered.
After a brief internal debate lasting roughly three seconds, Li Daoxuan made his decision.
"Let's go bully Hedong Circuit."
With a familiar whoosh, he activated Co-sensing.
The world lurched, perspective snapped into place—and he was once again inside the Puppet Heavenly Lord.
Wooden limbs. Hollow weight. That uncanny sense of being both god and firewood.
The puppet's eyes rolled in their sockets as Li Daoxuan flexed experimentally. Good, he thought. No lag.
Since there was nothing else to do, he figured he might as well eavesdrop on Huang Yunfa and his people. Best case, he picked up something useful. Worst case…
Well. Worst case, he entertained himself.
He grabbed the creeping vines on the courtyard wall and hauled himself up, movements careful, almost stealthy.
Almost.
The instant he peeked over the top, he spotted two guards patrolling below.
Li Daoxuan froze.
Unfortunately, wood had momentum.
His sudden stop threw the puppet off balance, and with all the elegance of a falling wardrobe, it toppled straight off the wall.
Clatter—crack—thud.
Wood smacked stone. Limbs tangled. The sound echoed far louder than dignity allowed.
The two guards jumped, hands flying to their weapons.
"…What the hell was that?"
They squinted.
Then squinted harder.
"…Oh. It's that puppet."
Recognition dawned. They'd seen it sitting on the wall earlier that day, stiff and solemn like some decorative shrine ornament. Wind knocking it down—or a stray cat—made enough sense.
One guard clicked his tongue. "Damn it. Scared me half to death, dropping like that."
The other leaned closer, lantern light flickering across the puppet's face. "…Don't you think it's too realistic?"
"Realistic how?"
"That face. Why does a puppet need eyes like that?"
The first guard shuddered. "Don't know. Don't care. That thing always gives me the creeps."
"…Let's just stay away from it."
They didn't even poke it with a stick. Instead, they gave the fallen puppet a wide berth and continued their patrol.
Silence returned.
The moment their footsteps faded, the Puppet Heavenly Lord twitched.
Then its fingers moved.
With a dry clack, it pushed itself upright.
Its head rotated slowly, joints clicking in a way no living neck should.
Li Daoxuan paused, then thought thoughtfully, Huh. I think I just unlocked a new gameplay mode.
This was obviously not something he could do in his own territory—traumatizing his own people felt… counterproductive.
But here?
Against a nest of Han traitors?
Zero psychological burden.
The puppet's wooden mouth creaked open, producing two hollow, clattering laughs.
Then, very deliberately, it sat down.
Perfectly still.
A short while later, the two guards completed their circuit and came back around.
Lantern light spilled into the courtyard.
The man in front stopped so abruptly the other nearly ran into him.
"…Look," he whispered.
The second guard followed his gaze—and felt his scalp go numb.
"The puppet," he croaked. "Wasn't it lying down just now?"
"…Yes."
"…Then why is it sitting?"
They stared.
The puppet stared back.
Every instinct screamed.
"No, no, no," the first guard said quickly. "We remembered it wrong."
"We absolutely did not remember it wrong."
"…Then someone must've set it upright after we passed."
"…Holy hell."
Their blood ran cold.
"Doesn't that mean someone got inside?!"
They spun and bolted.
The door to Huang Yunfa's room burst open with a bang.
Inside, steel rang as blades were drawn. Someone tripped. Furniture scraped.
Then Huang Yunfa's furious roar shook the room.
"What in the blazes are you two doing? Bursting into my room in the middle of the night?! I thought you were assassins! I nearly took your heads off—and instead you rush in and kneel?! Have you both gone mad?!"
"We—we thought an assassin had snuck in—"
"No one's come in here except you two!"
"There's a puppet outside," one guard whimpered. "It moved…"
"…What?"
"Take me to see."
The commotion woke half the residence.
Servants stirred. Guards poured out. Even the dozen suspicious Manchu cavalrymen rose from their quarters.
A whole crowd surged toward the courtyard.
Li Daoxuan, fortunately, had no intention of sticking around.
He popped up, slipped into the flower bushes, crawled low like a particularly undignified god, and circled back once the mob moved off.
Moments later, he was inside Huang Yunfa's room.
Climbing a pillar with stiff wooden limbs was… difficult. Undignified. Several seconds of careful effort later, he reached the roof beam, looped a rope, and—
Hung himself upside down.
Outside, voices rose.
They hadn't found the puppet.
The two guards were dragged forward and verbally flayed.
"Idiots!" Huang Yunfa snapped. "Losing your minds in the middle of the night! Where would a puppet even come from?!"
"But there really was—"
Excuses earned fists.
By the time the crowd dispersed, the guards were bruised, miserable, and spiritually crushed.
Huang Yunfa stomped back into his room, temper foul. "Keep your eyes open!"
"As you command!"
The door shut.
He turned.
And froze.
A puppet hung upside down from his roof beam, wooden face split in a grotesque grin, eyes locked onto his.
Silence.
Then—
"Aaaaah—!"
Huang Yunfa screamed like his soul had slipped on oil.
He stumbled backward, smashed straight through the thin wooden door, and tumbled into the garden with a crash.
Chaos exploded.
Guards rushed in from every direction, weapons out, lanterns blazing. Even the Salt Administration soldiers were startled awake.
While everyone panicked outside, Li Daoxuan calmly slid down the rope, rolled, and crawled under the bed.
From outside came Huang Yunfa's shaken shout:
"The puppet! It's in my room! Hanging from the roof beam!"
Someone charged in with a lantern.
"…There's nothing here, Master."
"What?! Impossible! I saw it!"
Huang Yunfa was on the verge of hysteria. "It could be fake! A dwarf in disguise! Search the room—now!"
The room was turned upside down.
Then a voice cried out, "Under the bed!"
Hands reached down.
Clatter.
A half-human-sized puppet was dragged into the light.
"It's real."
"Not a person."
"Then it's being controlled!" Huang Yunfa shouted, veins bulging. "Search everything! Someone must be hiding, pulling strings!"
Under the bed, Li Daoxuan lay still.
Wooden face frozen in a grin.
Heh.