Dao Xuan Tianzun and Shi Kefa were the first to step onto the Longmen Yellow River Bridge.
Which sounded dignified in hindsight.
In reality, it was anything but.
Because while the bridge itself was majestic, the approaches to it were… let's generously call them "unfinished." No stairs. No ramp. No stone steps engraved with dragons. Just two slopes that had been violently compacted by a divine palm, still smelling faintly of crushed earth.
Shi Kefa lifted the hem of his official robe with one hand and climbed like a man scaling a muddy embankment after a flood.
Slip. Step. Slip again.
By the time he reached the deck, the bottom of his robe was coated in yellow mud, and any illusion of elegant officialdom had long since drowned in the Yellow River below.
Yet strangely—
He was smiling.
A bridge, his heart whispered. An actual bridge.
Not a creaking pontoon. Not a rope crossing. Not a "close your eyes and pray" ferry.
A real bridge.
The moment Shi Kefa stepped fully onto the deck and looked down, his breath caught.
The Yellow River surged far beneath his feet, muddy and furious, like a dragon forced to bow under stone. The people on either bank now looked no bigger than ants. Wind rushed past his ears, tugging at his robes as if urging him onward.
His chest tightened.
Even men of later ages, strolling across steel bridges for leisure, felt this thrill. How could a Ming official—who had grown up believing rivers were boundaries ordained by Heaven—possibly resist?
"This bridge…" Shi Kefa breathed, then laughed outright. "This bridge is magnificent!"
He threw all restraint aside.
A civil official of the Ming Dynasty promptly ran across the bridge deck, boots slapping against the surface, laughing like a boy who had just discovered the world was larger than his village.
He ran one full length.
Then another.
Then hurried back to Dao Xuan Tianzun, grabbing the railing with both hands as if afraid it might vanish if he let go.
"You are no mortal," Shi Kefa said earnestly. "Are you a celestial being?"
Dao Xuan Tianzun smiled, the same unreadable curve of lips. "If I'm honest, I usually try very hard not to be noticed by officials."
The words landed softly.
But their meaning struck like thunder.
Shi Kefa's excitement drained away at once. His spine straightened, expression turning solemn.
Dao Xuan Tianzun continued calmly, "Think about it. The more I interact with the Embroidered Uniform Guard, the more trouble I invite. Logic dictates I should avoid you."
Shi Kefa inhaled, then bowed deeply. "Then… what is your intention?"
Dao Xuan Tianzun didn't answer immediately.
He pointed instead.
Toward the mass of people waiting anxiously on the eastern bank—thirty thousand elderly, frail, women, and children.
"They must cross the river," he said.
Shi Kefa's eyes widened.
"These are not young men who can swim if they fall," Dao Xuan Tianzun continued. "They crossed from Shaanxi to Shanxi once already. On shaking boats. In flood season. You know what that means."
Shi Kefa did know.
It meant bodies.
Quiet ones. Forgotten ones.
"I don't want them to cross like that again," Dao Xuan Tianzun said simply.
Understanding dawned.
"So even if it meant revealing yourself…" Shi Kefa murmured, "…you would still build this bridge."
Dao Xuan Tianzun nodded. "Heaven shows benevolence to humanity. Humans should at least attempt the same."
Shi Kefa found himself unable to speak.
"Take care of them," Dao Xuan Tianzun said. "Escort them safely to Chengcheng County. See it with your own eyes. Then decide whether that letter in your sleeve deserves to be sent."
Shi Kefa stood frozen, thoughts colliding like waves.
Dao Xuan Tianzun had already turned away.
He went beneath the bridge, retrieved several thick cloth ropes from Shi Jian, and twisted them together with practiced ease, forming an absurdly thick cord.
The crowd stared.
No one dared ask.
After securing the rope, Dao Xuan Tianzun casually climbed onto the railing.
Then—
He jumped.
Straight down.
Tens of thousands of people screamed.
The Dao Xuan Tianzun fell like a stone, even letting out a bizarre, joyous howl mid-air.
"Oh—wa—ha—ha—!"
Just before impact, the rope snapped taut.
The Tianzun rebounded.
Dropped again.
Bounced.
Swung.
Finally came to rest, dangling a couple of chi above the river, laughing loudly.
"Shi Jian!" he shouted. "Pull me up!"
Shi Jian nearly dropped the rope in panic. "T-Tianzun—what in Heaven was that?!"
They hauled him back up amid stunned silence.
Dao Xuan Tianzun grinned. "That is called bungee jumping. A recreational activity from above. Extremely fun. Extremely dangerous. Death rate… let's not discuss."
The crowd collectively forgot how to breathe.
Shi Jian stared at the bridge. Then at the rope.
Without saying a word, he tied it around his waist and jumped.
His scream echoed magnificently.
Then another militia soldier.
Then another.
"WAIT FOR YOUR TURN!" "YOU IDIOTS TIE THE KNOT PROPERLY!" "HEY—THAT ONE'S LOOSE—"
Chaos erupted.
Meanwhile, Shi Kefa began organizing the crossing.
The elderly stepped cautiously onto the bridge, hands gripping railings, eyes shining. The wind cooled their faces. The bridge did not sway. It did not creak.
"It's solid…"
"We're really crossing…"
"We're going home."
Some laughed. Some cried.
Music began to play.
Gentle. Familiar.
The Dao Xuan Tianzun had changed the tune.
"Clouds from my hometown drift across the sky…"
Tears flowed freely now.
"I wonder if my husband is still alive…"
"Even if he isn't… at least we're returning."
Shi Kefa led them to the western bank.
When he turned back, Dao Xuan Tianzun stood far away, waving.
Shi Kefa bowed deeply.
His fingers brushed the letter in his sleeve.
I will see first, he thought. Then decide.
And the bridge stood firm between Heaven and Earth.