The villagers were midway through dinner when something enormous and white drifted down from the sky.
A sheet of paper—big as a pond.
Bowls clutched to their chests, they scattered like startled quail.
"Another strange gift from the Heavenly Lord!" someone laughed. "Doesn't look edible this time!"
The sheet settled across an empty patch of ground, revealing a dense thicket of diagrams—lines, shapes, and odd symbols. One sketch, seen at an angle, vaguely resembled… a firearm?
High Yiye pointed.
"Li Da, that's what Lord Tianshen wants you to forge. Go on—take a look."
Li Da's mind stalled. He'd just watched the heavens spit out a sheet of paper.
His brain refused to reboot.
San Sier shook him by both shoulders until he snapped out of it.
The paper was too large to view from the ground. Li Da could only see fragments—something like a strange musket surrounded by dozens of little parts. So he climbed the newly built two-zhang wall and leaned forward to observe from above.
"Hmm… the center drawing looks like some new kind of fire-gun. And the smaller drawings… all its components?"
Up in the real world, Li Daoxuan chuckled.
"That's right. The Sharps Model rifle. A fine early breech-loading design. This here is its blueprint."
These days, he hadn't been idle. One question had plagued him:
With modern materials supplied by him, but Ming-dynasty craftsmanship—what weapons could they realistically build?
He had posted anonymously on his favorite military-history forum:
"If you time-traveled to the Ming era, with modern raw materials but only local craftsmanship, what's the highest-level weapon their smiths could produce?"
Replies came fast:
Reply 1: Star-destroyer battleship.
Reply 2: First bury the guy above. Obviously the AK-47. Any backyard workshop today can make one; Ming smiths can bang it out too.
Reply 3: Stop dreaming. You'd get nothing but burst barrels. You can't solve the ammo problem either. Rifled muskets are way more practical—that's why all transmigrators use them.
Reply 4: Hold on. The OP did say modern materials. That means rubber—problem of gas sealing solved. Forget muzzle-loaders. Just build a breech-loader! Something like the Sharps—precision requirements low enough for hand-forging.
Reply 5: You all missed the point. In Ming China you buy a courtyard full of maidservants, lift their skirts, watch them bathe, and experiment with all sorts of—
Li Daoxuan: "You again?!"
Forum: GET OUT.
Despite the chaos, his answer emerged: the Sharps breech-loader.
Forum veterans even provided photos, diagrams, and part illustrations. He printed everything onto a massive A5 sheet and waited for the right blacksmith.
Now that Li Da stood atop the wall, studying the blueprint, he began sweating through his shirt.
"This… this fire-gun…"
His voice trembled.
"I… cannot promise it can be made, my lady."
Li Daoxuan spoke through Yiye, calm and gentle:
"Don't feel pressured. Try your best. You'll have all the time in the world—years, if needed. If you succeed, I'll make your wish come true."
Li Da's wish: to shed his hereditary craftsman status and become a free commoner.
A dream as heavy as iron.
He hesitated. "Miss… Master San… Forgive me, but I don't even know who this 'master' truly is. What I'm about to attempt is… not ordinary."
Yiye snorted.
"The giant paper from the sky wasn't enough of a hint? Jump off the wall and you'll know exactly who he is."
"…Jump?"
San Sier grinned. "Go on. Try."
Li Da looked down.
Two zhàng.
A fatal drop for normal folk—unless one landed well. As a lifelong smith, his body was solid enough. Worst case, he'd break a leg. But if that won him his freedom…
He clenched his jaw.
If this wall is my 'craftsman status', then jumping is the only way out.
He leapt.
He prepared to tuck, roll, absorb impact—
But the ground never arrived.
Something huge and invisible caught him midair.
His feet pressed against a surface he could not see, but his palms felt… a hand?
"Wh—WHAT? What is—?!"
Yiye raised her voice, amused.
"You're standing on the Heavenly Lord's palm."
Li Da: "…"
Up above, Li Daoxuan playfully moved his real hand, sliding Li Da across the invisible sky like a doll on a divine conveyor belt.
The posture Li Da landed in resembled a crushed frog.
Dignity: zero.
Faith: suddenly 100%.
So… the lord of this village really is… a god?
Gently, the invisible hand lowered him to the ground and tipped.
He slid off, landing on the dirt, trembling, terrified—and yet faintly exhilarated.
Because now, his dream seemed achievable.
He rolled over, knelt with a loud thump, and shouted:
"Your servant—your servant will devote every ounce of strength to forging the divine fire-gun! But it may take a long time—perhaps one or two years!"
Li Daoxuan, pleased:
"No rush. While you're studying the gun, teach Yiyi how to forge armor. Ask her for any materials you require. When you succeed, your dream will be fulfilled."
Then he asked, "Yiye, any spare houses in the village?"
She winced.
"None. The only empty home was given to San Sier's family."
"Oh. Then hold on."
In the real world, Li Daoxuan opened the fridge, grabbed a Pepsi can, chugged it, sighed in satisfaction, then cut the can in half with scissors.
With a few snips he shaped a tiny door and windows.
He flipped the half-can upside down over an empty patch of village ground—
BOOM.
The earth shook.
The villagers lost half their dinners.
A ridiculous, vividly blue round hut appeared—its roof emblazoned with Pepsi in backward simplified characters.
"Li Da," Li Daoxuan said, "you'll live here for now. Soon, I'll build proper houses for everyone."
The villagers, long numbed to miracles, were once again dumbstruck.
Third Madam, who had been sneaking peeks from behind a tree, dropped to her knees so fast it sounded like rapid-fire drumming.
…
For clarity:
The giant A5 blueprint was retrieved that night and re-printed at a smaller size for Li Da's personal use.
In the future, similar trivial details will be skipped to avoid cluttering the story. Consider them naturally handled off-screen.