It did not take long for all forty-two residents of the village to gather around the colossal boiled egg.
Forty-two pairs of bewildered eyes stared up at the white monolith.
Over three zhang long. More than one zhang in height.
Standing before it felt like standing in front of a small house made of porcelain and protein.
If there had not been a gaping hole revealing the golden yolk inside, none of them would have believed it was actually food. It looked too perfect, too massive, too divine.
The Village Chief of Gaojia Village stepped forward, his wrinkled face etched with deep skepticism mixed with awe.
"Yiye," he asked slowly, "you claim this giant egg was bestowed by Tianzun?"
Gao Yiye nodded, pointing toward the sky. "The same Tianzun who saved us from the bandits yesterday."
The villagers exchanged nervous glances. Yesterday's massacre was still fresh in their memories. Invisible forces crushing men into paste, blood spraying across the sand. Only Yiye had claimed to see the hand. The rest had seen nothing but death raining down from above.
Now, barely twenty-four hours later, she presented another miracle.
The Village Chief sighed, scratching his head. "Think about it logically. Who else could flatten armed bandits without lifting a finger? And this egg. Even if such a bird existed in our world, we do not have a cauldron big enough to boil an egg of this size. No mortal kitchen could produce this."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. He was right. The logistics were impossible for humans.
"Yiye," the Chief said, his voice softening, "it seems Tianzun favors you specifically. He reveals Himself only to you. Our sins must be too great, or our luck too thin, to behold His face directly."
Gao Yiye blinked, surprised. "Tianzun favors me? Specifically?"
"Did He give any other commands?" the Chief pressed.
Yiye thought hard. "He just told me to eat. Oh! And he said to invite the villagers to share it."
Beside her, Gao Chuwu smacked his lips. Egg residue still clung to the corners of his mouth, and he licked it away obsessively, unwilling to waste a single calorie. "I already tried a piece. It is delicious. Truly heavenly."
Seeing that the two youths had eaten without falling ill, the Chief finally made his decision.
"If Tianzun commands it, then we obey. Eat! But listen closely. No fighting, no grabbing. Waste is a sin against heaven. Chuwu, fetch a knife!"
He eyed the mountain of egg. "This thing is huge. Forty-two people. We cannot finish it. Cut it fairly. Everyone takes what they can carry home. The leftovers..."
He trailed off, worried about spoilage.
Chuwu returned with a rusty cleaver. Carefully, they sliced into the firm white albumen. Each person received a generous portion of yolk and white, scooping it into whatever bowls, pots, or hats they had on hand. They ate ravenously, savoring the rich, fatty taste that had been absent from their lives for months.
But there was still a massive amount left. More than half the egg remained untouched.
The villagers looked at the pile anxiously. In this heat, it would rot by tomorrow morning. What a tragedy to let such a gift go to waste.
Outside the box, Li Daoxuan watched them struggle with the surplus.
"If I leave it here, it'll smell terrible in my apartment tonight," he reasoned. "Plus, seeing them starve while food rots feels wrong."
Without hesitation, Li Daoxuan reached his hand back into the open top of the diorama.
To the villagers below, the sky suddenly darkened again. A giant hand descended, grasped the remaining bulk of the egg, and lifted it effortlessly into the air.
Whoosh.
The egg vanished upward, disappearing beyond the clouds.
Li Daoxuan tossed it casually into his trash bin.
Inside the village, panic erupted.
"The egg! It flew away!"
"He took it back!"
"Did we anger Him? Do not anger Him!"
Terrified, the villagers dropped to their knees, prostrating themselves fully against the ground. They bowed repeatedly, thanking Tianzun for the meal, begging for forgiveness for their greed, and praying fervently for the drought to end so they would not burden Him again.
Gradually, calm returned to the diorama. Life resumed its grim rhythm. The villagers scattered to find more roots, more bark, anything edible. Despite having eaten a feast, hunger gnawed at them again almost immediately. Boiled eggs provided calories, but not sustenance for weeks.
Gao Yiye picked up her bamboo basket once more. Her steps were lighter now, fueled by protein, but her expression remained somber. She scanned the barren sands for scraps.
Li Daoxuan sat outside and watched. His mood was complicated.
One egg is not enough, he realized. They need variety.
Rice. Vegetables. Meat occasionally.
And salt.
He paused. Salt was crucial. Humans could not function without electrolytes. These miniature people were biologically human, were they not? If they lacked salt, they would become weak, dizzy, prone to illness.
The logistical weight of the situation hit him.
I am basically running a pet shop for humans now, he thought dryly. A very expensive pet shop.
Calculating roughly: forty-two mouths. Minimal rice and veggie intake. Maybe a few dozen yuan worth of groceries per month? It was not much for him, considering his savings, but it was a recurring commitment.
Fine. I will do it. I will raise them.
He grabbed his phone and opened Baidu. Search query: "How to care for miniature humans from another dimension?"
Result: Zero relevant information. Just ads for toys and sci-fi novels.
He switched to his favorite military history forum. Anonymous post: "Hypothetically, if you found a colony of tiny humans in your living room, how would you feed them sustainably?"
Reply #1: Do they have women? Lift their skirts to check for breeding season lol.
Reply #2: Install hidden cameras in their showers. For science.
Reply #3: OP is edging. Go touch grass.
Reply #4: This is why aliens won't talk to us.
Li Daoxuan stared at the screen, veins popping in his forehead.
"Damn idiots," he muttered, closing the tab. "No logic, just lust."
He could not rely on the internet. He would have to figure it out himself. Trial and error.
He walked into his kitchen and inspected his pantry.
Empty. Well, not entirely empty, but pathetic. A few eggs, half a pack of dried noodles, oil, soy sauce, vinegar. That was it. Typical bachelor diet: takeout and instant carbs.
Not suitable for sustaining a civilization.
He checked the box. The villagers were busy scavenging. No immediate crisis. Good.
Li Daoxuan grabbed his keys and rushed out. Ten minutes later, he returned, sweating slightly, carrying a heavy sack of premium Northeastern rice, two slabs of pork belly, a bag of leafy greens, and a large kilogram packet of iodized salt. Total cost: over a hundred yuan.
Back in the living room, he approached the diorama. All forty-two subjects accounted for. Still working.
A mischievous impulse sparked in his mind.
He used scissors to cut open the rice sack. The aroma of fresh, starchy grains wafted out, clean and sweet and potent.
He located Gao Yiye's hut through the glass. Using the magnifying glass, he peered inside. The interior was starkly bare. No furniture, no storage jars, just dirt floors and thin walls.
Such an empty house deserves some decoration, he mused.
Li Daoxuan cupped his hands together, forming a makeshift funnel. He aligned his palms with the small window of Yiye's hut.
Slowly, deliberately, he tilted his hands.
To Li Daoxuan, it was the sound of pouring breakfast cereal.
To the inhabitants of the hut, it sounded like a hailstorm of white gems crashing onto the floor.
Grain after grain poured in, piling up rapidly. White mountains rose against the brown earth. Within moments, half the room was buried under a drift of pristine rice.
Li Daoxuan pulled his hands back, dusting off the stray grains. He smiled, anticipating the look on Yiye's face when she returned.
Surprise, little goddess. Dinner is served.