The women of Gaojia Village had not been this excited in years.
Ever since the Heavenly Lord descended and began showering blessings upon the village, the men had been busy every single day — one moment helping the blacksmith hammer iron, the next building a city gate, then constructing a small temple…
Meanwhile, the women… had nothing to do.
Idleness is torture, and boredom can turn even saints into devils.
Now, suddenly, an enormous mountain of cotton appeared — enough to occupy every loom in the valley.
A wave of thrill rippled through the crowd.
"Finally, I can dust off the loom at home."
"Sanwa's mother, you're the best seamstress here. You'll shine this time."
"If we serve the Heavenly Lord well, perhaps we'll even receive some divine favor!"
No one could hear anything clearly — not even Li Daoxuan, who was literally the Heavenly Lord whispering from the sky.
Shanshier finally roared, "Quiet!"
The crowd froze.
Two seconds of silence.
Then— boom —they erupted again.
Shanshier: "…."
Li Daoxuan was laughing uncontrollably somewhere up in the clouds.
Shanshier inhaled sharply, then bellowed, "Anyone who keeps talking gets NO cotton!"
Silence fell harder than a tax decree.
Li Daoxuan nearly rolled on the floor laughing.
This was the eternal truth of governance: authority is an illusion; controlling resources is real power.
Just like any company — a boss can talk all day, but only bonuses and pay cuts actually work.
Shanshier barked out instructions:
"The Heavenly Lord wants all this cotton made into cloth. Then it'll be used with the blacksmiths to craft armor. I'm not wasting breath. Whoever produces the most and best cloth gets more cotton for their own household."
That worked brilliantly. The women lit up like hungry wolves spotting meat.
Shanshier organized them into a line. Each woman received a giant ball of cotton, and each time he shoved one into someone's arms, he growled:
"The Heavenly Lord sees everything. Anyone who hides cotton, turns in one yard when she made two — divine wrath will follow."
He knew the village too well. Most women were honest, but a few prized "little bargains" more than dignity or morality.
Indeed, a handful of them had already planned to stash some cotton away — until Shanshier glared at them. They glanced at the sky, remembered there was a literal god overhead, and abandoned the idea instantly.
One woman stepped away with her cotton. The next stepped forward.
Shanshier reached out — then froze.
Standing in front of him was Yiye.
Shanshier: "!"
Yiye blushed faintly. "I… also know how to weave."
Shanshier sputtered. "Yiye, what are you doing? You're the Heavenly Lord's emissary. Don't lower yourself like this—it's unbecoming!"
Yiye lifted her chin proudly. "Weaving is also helping the Heavenly Lord. I'll move as gracefully as possible so it doesn't tarnish His divine reputation."
Shanshier covered his face. This was worse than fighting bandits.
Li Daoxuan laughed until his ribs hurt.
Finally, Shanshier muttered in despair, "Draw the blade, look around… and realize nothing makes sense anymore."
Yiye blinked. "Why are you reciting poetry?"
"Nothing. Just venting."
Li Daoxuan understood perfectly.
Gaojia Village had always been a headache — previously for him, now for Shanshier, who inherited all burdens without any assistants. Even Yiye, supposedly the "Saint Maiden," was a perfectly walking disaster.
The village desperately needed talent.
But in this era, talent was rarer than gold. Even Liangshan Marsh in Water Margin only had one literate strategist, and he was considered a genius.
Li Daoxuan thought: Fine. If talent doesn't exist, we'll just have to cultivate it.
Just then, Lady San arrived with her daughter and maid. She had been packing for two days — preparing to return to the county seat to "spread the Heavenly Lord's teachings."
She pulled Shanshier aside.
"I'll be leaving soon. But our daughter cannot come with me. Gaojia Village is safer."
Shanshier nodded. "Naturally."
She lowered her voice further. "You're busy here, and I won't be in the county. Who will teach our daughter reading, writing, proper conduct, needlework? She can't grow up illiterate."
That struck Shanshier like a brick.
Once his wife left, who would educate their child? He squatted on the ground and pressed his head between his hands.
Li Daoxuan, overhearing, finally spoke to Yiye:
"Go. Tell Shanshier something for me."
Yiye looked up and saw the Heavenly Lord's face shimmering in the clouds. She bowed deeply and rushed over to deliver the message.
Li Daoxuan's voice rolled through the sky:
"Shanshier, when your wife goes back to the county, you plan to escort her, yes?"
Shanshier responded instantly. "Yes, my Lord. I will stay only one or two days, then return to serve You."
Li Daoxuan asked, "Can you hire a teacher to come to the village?"
Shanshier stiffened. "My Lord… scholars are extremely arrogant. Asking one to live in a village over thirty li from the county is… extremely difficult."
"How arrogant?" Li Daoxuan asked. "Try paying more."
Shanshier sighed. "Scholars… do not bend for five pecks of rice. Even if paid well, they may refuse."
"Five pecks are too little," Li Daoxuan said. "Show him this instead."
Li Daoxuan rummaged in his drawer and produced a massive pure-silver chain from his teenage years — a relic from his embarrassing 'cool gangster' phase. He removed a small ring from it, about the size of a coin.
When he presented it, Shanshier saw not a tiny ring—
but a gigantic silver hoop taller than a man, shining like a freshly polished moon.
Everyone who saw it — Shanshier, Lady San, Yiye, and every villager in the vicinity — had their jaws drop wide enough to fit a whole fruit.
They had seen divine food before, but this…
Silver was not food.
Silver was power.
Li Daoxuan asked, calm as thunder:
"So. Will he bow or not?"
Shanshier stammered, "He—he'll break his own spine to bow."