The silver ring was so large it could loom over a man like an arrogant moon. Naturally, Shansier and the others couldn't make use of it at all.
Li Daoxuan had tossed it into the box earlier purely for dramatic effect — a flourish, a performance, a moment of "behold my divine generosity."
Now that the moment had passed, he still had to resize it into something mortals could use. So he pulled the ring back out, opened his household toolbox, found a pair of pliers, and snipped off the tiniest grain-sized fragment before dropping it back into the magical box.
Before Shansier's eyes, that little grain transformed into a fist-sized block of silver — shockingly heavy.
Shansier held the gleaming chunk in both hands, face full of mourning.
"Such a magnificent celestial ring… reduced to a pebble. What a shame."
Li Daoxuan snapped, "If I hadn't cut it, could you even lift the thing?"
"Well… I suppose not… but still. It hurts my soul."
Li Daoxuan continued, "After you escort your lady back to the county, don't rush back right away. Take that silver and go hire a proper tutor for the village. If he refuses, hit him with the silver block. If he still refuses, hit him with two."
He tossed another piece of silver into the box.
"And if he still refuses…"
Shansier brightened. "I hit him with two more!"
"No. If he refuses even after the second strike, then stop hitting him."
Li Daoxuan explained, "Just take the silver and walk away. Let him watch you leave with his missed fortune. He'll panic, chase after you, apologize along the road, and beg you to hire him."
Shansier stared.
Sometimes, heavenly beings truly enjoyed tormenting mortals.
He bowed deeply to the empty air.
"Thank you, my lord. For the sake of my daughter's education, you even cut celestial rings. I shall never forget this kindness."
Li Daoxuan replied, calm as a drifting cloud, "This isn't only for your daughter. I want that teacher to come to Gao Village and teach everyone to read — men and women, old and young. Anyone willing to learn."
Shansier froze only a moment before comprehension struck. He bowed again, forehead nearly touching the floor.
"I will not fail in this mission."
Just then — ding ding ding — Li Daoxuan's phone rang.
Pulling his attention from the magical box, he answered. Cai Xinzi's frantic voice exploded through the speaker:
"Daoxuan! You ignore my messages on every app, you vanish for days, and the only way to reach you is by calling? I hate calling!"
Li Daoxuan said, "I've been obsessed with City Simulator 1627 lately. Haven't checked anything. What's wrong? Why the emergency?"
"City Simulator 1627? What is that? I only know City Simulator 2000."
"It's… a very niche game mod."
"Whatever. Not important." Cai Xinzi inhaled sharply. "I have a bizarre customer. Only you can help."
"Alright, tell me."
"The customer ordered a complicated robot model — fine craftsmanship, detachable armor plates, intricate assembly, the works."
"And this concerns me how?"
"He has one deranged requirement: the cockpit must open, and inside must sit a miniature pilot — one centimeter tall — whose face must look exactly like himself. Eyes, brows, nose — everything clear as daylight."
Li Daoxuan finally understood.
"You want me to make the tiny face."
"Exactly. A one-centimeter human face identical to his. I can't sculpt that detailed at that size! But if I say I can't do it, he'll cancel the entire robot order."
Li Daoxuan chuckled. "Alright, alright. I can handle this. What material?"
"Plastic, of course. I've already finished the pilot's body. Only the face is blank. You handle that part. We've been friends for years — no nonsense. The robot sells for twenty thousand. This customer paid an extra two thousand just for the custom face. If you help me, I keep the robot money, and you take the full two thousand."
"Two thousand, hm."
His first instinct was that it was too little. But thinking deeper — the sacred pearl statues he had been making were expensive and rare. Only a few could be sold; his sculptors would run out of work. Keeping them idle would turn them into decorative furniture.
The better plan was clear: give them continuous, stable work. Let Gao Village become a home for sculptors, where more craftsmen could come and always have tasks waiting.
Even state-owned factories sometimes accepted unprofitable orders just so workers could keep working.
Cai Xinzi added, "I know it's not much. Just help a brother out."
Li Daoxuan laughed. "Didn't you brag last time that I'm generous to a fault? So what's a little less profit? Of course I'll help."
Cai Xinzi whooped, "Now that's what I call a real friend!"
Li Daoxuan mused, "Your customer's idea is interesting, though — putting his own face on a tiny pilot. There might actually be a market for custom miniature faces. Try advertising it. Low price, high volume. And any tiny details people want for their models — we take all the orders."
Cai Xinzi paused… then nodded eagerly.
It made sense. A new niche market. And all he had to do was forward the orders to Li Daoxuan and collect his cut.
"Deal."
He hung up. Shortly after, Cai Xinzi drove over and delivered the miniature.
It was a seated plastic pilot wearing a futuristic military uniform. The uniform's details were… well, optimistic interpretations of detail. Tiny work was never Cai's strength.
The face was a blank flat panel — smooth as an unused chalkboard.
"This face is yours to handle," Cai Xinzi said. "Here's the customer's photos — front view and both side profiles."
"Alright. Leave it to me."
After seeing him off, Li Daoxuan fired up his color printer, printed the customer's face in a corner of the photo paper, cut out the portrait, lifted the lid of the magical box, and called out:
"Iyé, fetch the two sculptors."
Soon, Gao Iyé arrived, escorting the sculptors who approached like disciples awaiting a divine decree.
Li Daoxuan placed the seated miniature gently before them, along with the photographs.
"You see? Reproduce this face exactly as shown."
The sculptors understood immediately… though one couldn't help asking:
"My lord… what strange material is this? Neither metal, nor wood, nor stone. What tools can carve it?"
"Use the tools you'd use for jade," Li Daoxuan said. "And be very careful. Unlike clay, this cannot be patched. One mistake, and there is no fixing it."
Both sculptors stiffened.
Understood. A heavenly material. Break it, and even their heads wouldn't pay the price.
They bowed and prepared to work with reverent, trembling precision.