What the villagers witnessed that day would be etched into their bones for the rest of their lives.
The clouds above suddenly split.
Not drifted. Not parted politely.
They were torn open—like a curtain ripped aside by an impatient god.
From the gap descended a shovel.
Not a metaphorical shovel. Not some symbolic heavenly implement.
An actual, brutally practical shovel.
It was more than ten zhang long and wide, its metal surface cold and gleaming, reflecting sunlight so fiercely that several villagers instinctively shielded their eyes. Its wooden handle was thicker than a city gate pillar—and wrapped around that handle was a colossal golden hand.
Five fingers.
Each one thicker than a watchtower.
The hand descended slowly, calmly, as if the heavens were taking their time to avoid unnecessary panic.
Which… didn't work at all.
"Ah—!"
"What in the ancestors' names is that?!"
"Mother of Heaven—!"
Before anyone could finish screaming, the shovel dropped.
Boom.
With one clean, decisive scoop, it plunged straight into the mountain-like pile of earth and rock sealing the mine entrance.
The ground shuddered.
Villagers stumbled.
A mass of debris—so large it could have buried the entire village twice over—was lifted effortlessly into the air, as if it weighed no more than a basket of radishes.
The shovel didn't fling it away.
Instead, it rotated calmly, shifted to a nearby ravine, and dumped the load inside.
Then—
The shovel flipped.
Its flat back pressed down.
Thump.
The loose earth compacted instantly, crushed into solid ground.
That ravine—the one that had forced villagers to take a long detour for years—was flattened into a smooth path in mere moments.
The villagers stood frozen.
Mouths open.
Souls temporarily misplaced.
"Ah… ah… ah…" someone croaked.
"What… what divine power is this…?"
The shovel didn't answer.
It simply kept working.
Left scoop.
Right scoop.
Clean. Efficient. Utterly merciless to geology.
In no time at all, the mountain of rubble vanished.
The mine entrance was revealed.
Then the shovel rose, slipped back into the clouds, and disappeared.
Silence fell.
For exactly three breaths.
Then the clouds parted again.
This time, only the golden hand emerged.
Its index finger extended.
Slowly.
Delicately.
The fingertip slid into the mine shaft.
Scrape.
Sand and stones poured out like grain from a torn sack.
Another scrape.
More debris fell free.
Another.
And just like that—
The passage was clear.
The finger withdrew.
A dark, open mine entrance yawned before them.
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then the village exploded.
Cheers, sobs, laughter, screams—everything crashed together.
"We're saved!"
"The Immortals saved us!"
"Thank the heavens—thank the Immortals!"
What the villagers didn't know was that inside the mine, the fifty-odd trapped miners were experiencing something entirely different.
Moments earlier, they had been digging like madmen, tools scraping desperately against packed earth, oil lamps flickering weakly in the suffocating dark.
Then the ground began to roar.
Not a tremor.
A presence.
It felt like something impossibly vast was clawing its way toward them from outside.
The sound was deafening. The shaft shook. Dust rained down.
The miners screamed and dug faster, driven by blind terror.
Then—
The earth ahead convulsed.
They barely had time to scramble back before a colossal golden finger burst through the blockage with a thunderous crack, filling half the shaft.
It flexed.
Scraped.
The wall vanished.
Light flooded in.
Fresh air rushed through.
The tunnel was open.
And fifty grown men screamed like children being chased by ghosts.
Because let's be clear—
If you were digging your way out of a collapsed mine and a finger the size of a house suddenly punched through the wall and cleared the path for you…
Would you be the first to step outside?
The miners huddled together, shaking, trousers decisively ruined, peeking out from the opening like frightened animals.
Something was out there.
Something huge.
After an eternity—or maybe just a minute—a shadow appeared at the mine entrance.
Someone stepped into view.
The miners squinted.
"Is that… the Village Chief?"
Behind him, more figures gathered—men, women, children—standing in full sunlight, peering nervously into the dark.
The miners saw them clearly.
"My wife!"
"My brother!"
"Mother!"
Recognition hit like a hammer.
Fear shattered.
With a collective roar, the miners surged out of the shaft.
What followed was chaos of a different kind.
People collided, hugged, cried, laughed, sobbed into each other's shoulders. Tears mixed with dust and snot. Nobody cared.
Life had returned.
It took a long while for the noise to settle.
Finally, one miner asked, voice trembling, "What… what just happened? We saw a huge finger come into the mine. That wasn't real, right?"
The Village Chief straightened, eyes blazing. "Nonsense! That was no illusion. It was an Immortal! A true celestial descended to save you!"
He jabbed a finger toward Gao Yiye. "That lady summoned the Immortal!"
"An… Immortal?" The miners stared.
Only then did they truly look at her.
Fine clothes. Composed bearing. Married woman's coiffure. Two senior maids. A hundred guards standing like iron walls behind her.
This was not someone you questioned casually.
The miners exchanged glances.
Then dropped to their knees in unison.
"Thank you, Esteemed Lady, for saving our lives!"
Gao Yiye smiled gently. "Please rise. It was not I who saved you."
She lowered her gaze slightly.
"It was Dao Xuan Tianzun."
They didn't quite understand.
She didn't explain.
There would be time later—for comics, for stories, for faith delivered in bright ink and exaggerated panels.
For now, survival was enough.
She continued calmly, "From now on, you must prioritize safety. On slopes like this, landslide prevention is essential. This must never happen again."
The miners nodded frantically.
Just then, a voice shouted from above.
"The Prefect is here!"
Everyone turned.
Qiu Qianfan climbed up with a large group of laborers, tools in hand, ready for excavation.
He took one look at the mine entrance.
And froze.
"…Eh?"
He blinked.
"…Eh??"
The villagers pointed upward. "Reporting to the Prefect! Just now, this lady summoned an Immortal. The Immortal cleared the mine with his own divine hand!"
Qiu Qianfan went silent.
He stared at Gao Yiye.
Then at the mine.
Then at the sky.
Ridiculous, he thought.
Only days ago, farmers had claimed Dragon Kings were dragged down to make it rain. He hadn't believed that nonsense either.
Rain was heaven's will—but gods digging mines?
Impossible.
Clearly, the shaft hadn't been buried deeply. With Lady Li's guards and the villagers working together, it must have been cleared quickly.
Yes.
That made sense.
Qiu Qianfan exhaled slowly. "Though this official's journey was unnecessary, I am pleased. In matters of life and death, a wasted trip is a blessing."
Before he could say more—
The rescued miners suddenly rushed him and dropped to their knees.
"Prefect!" they cried. "When will we receive our wages?"
Gao Yiye blinked.
Dao Xuan Tianzun… paused.
The heavens, it seemed, had not prepared him for this.