Li Daoxuan realized he had to reevaluate his diorama box.
Perhaps it wasn't merely a container for the forty-two tiny people he thought he "raised."
Perhaps it was… a window overlooking an entire miniature world.
Not "connected," no.
More like overseeing.
He had assumed he was simply keeping a box of tiny people like one might raise hamsters. He never bothered to dig into what they were or how they existed.
But if he was really looking down upon another small-folk civilization… then there were endless mysteries worth exploring.
He shifted his attention back to the tiny villagers.
The constable figurines had fled. The villagers were gathered together, jubilantly bowing toward the sky.
The young girl—being the only one capable of speaking with the Heavenly God—was surrounded by the villagers, all chattering at her.
The girl lifted her head and shouted toward the heavens:
"Heavenly God, the villagers thank you for your help! They also want to ask… are these divine grains given only to me, or may everyone share them?"
Li Daoxuan focused on her.
This tiny girl could communicate with him. She could hear him. Through her, he could learn about this miniature world.
It was time to speak.
Li Daoxuan said, "Let everyone have the rice. Also, I have questions I want to ask."
The girl brightened.
"Everyone, the Heavenly God says the rice is for all of us!"
The villagers cheered loudly.
"Heavenly God bless us!"
"Long live the Heavenly God!"
"Uh… Yiye, is the Heavenly God a Buddhist deity or a Daoist one? Should we say 'Amitabha'? Or 'Wuliang Shoufo'?"
Gao Yiye froze.
She had seen the Heavenly God's vague face beyond the clouds, but she had no idea whether He wore a monk's robe or a Daoist robe.
Which blessing was correct?
If she said the wrong invocation and offended the Heavenly God, she wouldn't even know how to write the character for "death."
Not that anyone here could write anyway.
The entire village was illiterate.
The villagers all stiffened mid-prayer. They had no idea what to say anymore.
Li Daoxuan couldn't help laughing.
These tiny people were surprisingly adorable—actually debating whether he was a Buddhist or Daoist deity.
Clearly, their culture shared deep roots with his own.
He spoke with amusement:
"Don't worry about Buddhism or Daoism. I'm neither."
The girl blinked.
That went beyond her realm of understanding.
A Heavenly God who belonged to neither tradition?
Li Daoxuan continued, "This isn't important. Tell everyone to quiet down—I have questions."
The girl quickly shouted,
"Everyone be quiet! The Heavenly God wishes to ask us questions!"
Instant silence.
Li Daoxuan asked,
"What planet are you on? Or what continent? Or what dimension?"
The girl did not understand a single word but repeated his question exactly for the villagers.
None of them understood.
Even the village chief—the most knowledgeable person in the entire village—looked completely blank.
Planet?
Continent?
Dimension?
They had never heard such words.
Li Daoxuan realized their knowledge level was centuries behind.
He tried again:
"What country do you belong to? What is the current era's reign title?"
This they at least had vague awareness of. They knew their world had a country, and a government, and soldiers.
But what the country was called, or what year it was?
They all shook their heads.
Li Daoxuan frowned.
They didn't even know their own dynasty or reign title—this wasn't just illiteracy, this was advanced illiteracy.
But then it made sense.
Ancient peasants often couldn't read a single character.
Most never left their village.
If their hometown was remote with little traffic, they would be exactly like this—knowing nothing beyond their farmland.
Mountains do not measure the passing years,
But the world beyond changes with each century.
Li Daoxuan sighed deeply.
"Forget it. I can't get meaningful answers from you."
The villagers looked at one another nervously.
Gao Yiye whispered to them,
"The Heavenly God sounds disappointed…"
The village chief said,
"Of course He's disappointed—we can't answer His questions."
Gao Yiye: "What should we do?"
The chief thought seriously.
"Tell the Heavenly God to give us time. We will find someone knowledgeable to help."
Gao Yiye blinked.
"But there isn't a single educated person in the whole village."
The chief waved his hand.
"Not in the village, no. But in the county town—yes. The most learned man I've ever seen is the magistrate."
Gao Yiye grimaced.
"We could never invite the magistrate here."
"Then we'll invite the magistrate's adviser," the chief said confidently, "Master San-shier."
(Author's note: The surname "San" is rare but historically real. The name San Shier is perfectly reasonable in the Ming Dynasty.)
Gao Yiye shook her head.
"We can't invite the adviser either."
The village chief chuckled.
"He's important, yes, but unlike the magistrate, he doesn't have constables around him all day. Much easier to invite."
"???"
The chief turned to a sturdy young man beside him.
"Chuwu!"
Gao Chuwu stepped forward with a silly grin.
The chief ordered:
"Tomorrow morning, you take a few strong lads. Eat plenty of white rice tonight—build up strength. Go to the county town and invite the adviser to our village.
If he's willing to come, treat him well.
If he refuses… knock him out and carry him back."
He added solemnly:
"Remember—the Heavenly God gave us our lives. Whatever He wants, we must offer. We cannot let Him down."
Gao Chuwu grinned broadly:
"Alright! The Heavenly God gave me giant eggs and white rice—I'll listen to whatever He says. But… I've never been to the county town. How do I get there?"
The chief patted his chest.
"I'll teach you the way…"
Outside the box, Li Daoxuan watched all this, amused.
These tiny people were seriously discussing how to "invite" a scholar—by force if necessary—to answer his questions.
Ridiculous… but also strangely charming.
This miniature world clearly wasn't small.
It had villages, counties, constables, magistrates, advisers…
which meant it must also have an entire nation.
Hopefully, they would "invite" the adviser back soon.