A colossal cabbage leaf descended from the heavens.
Gao Yiye jumped at first, but quickly steadied herself. This wasn't the first time the Heavenly Lord had "fed" them. After witnessing giant eggs and mountains of rice, she had grown much braver.
Even so, joy blossomed across her face. She knelt immediately, touched her forehead to the ground, and shouted her thanks for the "Heavenly Lord's blessing." Only then did she rise, cup her hands to her mouth, and call out:
"Everyone, come quickly! The Heavenly Lord has gifted us food again!"
The villagers—baskets in hand, ready to forage for wild greens—came running in a rush.
They stared at the massive cabbage leaf in dazed silence. But having survived previous encounters with divine-scale produce, their confusion passed quickly. The village chief barked his order:
"One piece per household! And save a few pieces for Chuwu and the children who went to the county town!"
The people obediently lined up, cutting away large slabs of cabbage and carrying them home like treasure.
Just as Li Daoxuan had predicted, a morning delivery of food meant the villagers no longer needed to dig up wild plants for breakfast.
When hunger gnaws, life has only one worry: eating.
But when the belly is full—ah, that's when real trouble begins.
And indeed, the village immediately blossomed with the colorful messiness of everyday life.
"Sanwa, your trousers have been torn for days. Come here and let your mother stitch them."
Li Daoxuan noticed a middle-aged woman skilled with needle and thread. With nothing but a pair of scissors and a single needle, she managed to sew sturdy, even beautiful clothes out of coarse burlap.
"Brother Laba, you said you'd teach me to make clay jars, remember? I dug up a big piece of yellow clay. Show me how to shape it!"
He then saw two middle-aged men squatting in the dirt like oversized children. One of them obviously had a craftsman's touch; within moments, he formed a handsome clay pot. The other struggled, producing a misshapen, wobbly thing—but a pot nonetheless.
On the other side of the village, the chief was also showing off his skills. He shaved bamboo strips with deft hands and quickly wove a basket, then two cylindrical bamboo cages—each one a neat and sturdy masterpiece.
"Gao Yi'er, my chopping knife has dulled. Help me sharpen it!"
Li Daoxuan's gaze followed the voice. There stood Gao Yi'er, the village blacksmith. With rhythmic clanging and a solemn "Namo Amitābha" muttered afterward, he straightened and handed back a knife polished like new.
The diorama had suddenly become a lively world full of crafts, noise, and life—far more entertaining to watch.
Then something caught his eye.
"Hmm? Wait… is this about to turn into a forbidden scene?"
Gao Yiye was fetching water.
She drew a full bucket from the well, carried it home, poured it into a wooden basin, then closed the door and shuttered the windows.
Realization struck Li Daoxuan like lightning.
This was exactly the sort of moment those shameless forum commenters always joked about.
The girl was about to wash herself.
His heart thudded in his chest.
He glanced at the magnifying glass in his hand, then at the miserable roof of Gao Yiye's hut…
The roof was riddled with holes. After three years of drought, rain hardly fell, so nobody bothered repairing leaks. One particular hole was large enough to see directly inside.
If he pointed the magnifying glass at the opening…
He could see…
Li Daoxuan clenched his jaw.
Should he be a decent human being—or a wolf?
Just as he wavered, a face suddenly appeared in the hole.
It was Gao Yiye.
She had stacked stools and tables into a teetering tower, climbing until she reached the rooftop opening.
She looked up toward the sky.
Li Daoxuan looked down from the "sky."
Their gazes collided again.
A strange, electric tension passed between them.
After several seconds, Gao Yiye looked away. She didn't dare meet the Heavenly Lord's eyes. Even so, her dirt-smudged little face flushed bright red—so red that the grime couldn't hide it. Her whole face glowed dark crimson.
But she was tiny—barely a centimeter tall. Without the magnifying glass, Li Daoxuan couldn't have seen her expression at all, let alone the shyness blooming there.
With a bang, she pushed the door open and ran out.
She darted straight to the chief, lowered her voice to what she assumed was "safe from divine hearing," and whispered:
"Chief Grandpa… I—I want to ask you something."
"Oh? What is it?" the chief replied.
Gao Yiye's face was the deep purple-red of pig liver. "The Heavenly Lord… seems to always… watch me… from the sky…"
"That is your blessing!" the chief declared. "The Heavenly Lord protects you, grants us food through your hands, speaks his will through your mouth—you should be grateful! Why the strange face?"
"I… I'm always… being watched… How will I… change clothes? Or… bathe?" she muttered, trembling.
"Tch! That's what you're worried about? Think about who gave you your life. Changing clothes and bathing aren't worth fussing over. If the Heavenly Lord ever needs you to serve him, you should obey without question."
In these troubled times, many folk religions expected girls to "serve the gods"—though, of course, the gods themselves never received such service. Those who benefited were merely monks, Daoists, and con men claiming to speak for the heavens.
(And before you laugh at ancient people—this still happens today.)
Gao Yiye's heart shook.
So that was it?
The Heavenly Lord saved her life, fed her… because he would one day require her… service?
The handsome face of the Heavenly Lord flashed in her mind. She violently shook her head—no, no, such thoughts were disrespectful!
Back home, she looked up at the hole in her roof. For a moment she considered patching it. Then she remembered the chief's words and sighed.
If the Heavenly Lord wishes to watch, let him watch.
My life belongs to him anyway.
What is there left to hide?
Her hands trembled as she undid her clothes.
Her filthy, malnourished body came into view—dust caked into patches, bones protruding, hardly a sight of beauty.
She mocked herself silently.
This dirty, bony body… even if laid before the Heavenly Lord, he wouldn't bother looking.
So what am I hiding?
She wrung out a rag in the basin and began wiping herself carefully.
Meanwhile, Li Daoxuan had long since moved the magnifying glass away.
If she hadn't caught him, perhaps he really might have turned into a wolf.
But after being discovered once, no decent person would keep peeping.
He turned his gaze to the edge of the diorama, concern creeping into his thoughts.
What about the tiny villagers who went to the county to find the magistrate's scribe?
Once they left the diorama, he could no longer see them.
He couldn't protect them.
If something happened outside…