It didn't take long before all forty-two villagers gathered around the enormous boiled egg.
Forty-two pairs of bewildered eyes stared at the massive white egg in stunned silence.
It was three zhang long and over one zhang tall—an impossibly huge egg.
Standing before it felt like standing in front of a tiny white house.
If not for the large hole that clearly showed the exposed yolk inside, none of them would have believed it was a peeled, cooked egg.
The village chief, face full of wrinkles and confusion, stood at the front.
"One-Leaf, you said this giant boiled egg was bestowed by the Heavenly Lord?"
Gao Yiye nodded and pointed up at the sky.
"The same Heavenly Lord who helped us yesterday—he's the one."
The villagers exchanged uncertain looks.
The memory of yesterday still felt fresh:
The wicked bandits crushed into bloody paste by an unseen force.
A scene far too terrifying and unreal.
Only Gao Yiye claimed she had seen a godly figure reaching down from the clouds to flatten the bandits one by one.
No one else saw anything, so they weren't sure whether to believe her.
And now, the next day, she presented a colossal egg and said it came from the same god.
The village chief sighed.
"If you think carefully… who else could have done what happened yesterday? And today, who else could make an egg this big? Even if such a creature existed, no pot in the world could cook it."
Everyone nodded.
It made sense, in a bizarre way.
The chief continued, "It seems the Heavenly Lord favors you specially, One-Leaf—he appears only to you. The rest of us simply lack the fortune to see him."
Gao Yiye blinked in surprise.
"He favors… me?"
The chief nodded.
"Did he leave you any other instructions?"
Gao Yiye thought for a moment.
"He just told me to eat. Oh—he also said to let everyone eat."
Nearby, Gao Chuwu licked his lips. He had already eaten a fist-sized piece of yolk. A bit of egg crumb still clung to the corner of his mouth, and he kept licking around as if unwilling to waste even a grain.
"I already tasted some. It's really good."
Seeing that the two young people had eaten it without dropping dead, the chief stopped hesitating. He pointed at the giant egg.
"Since the Heavenly Lord gave it to us, then let's eat it. But no fighting—if you fight, you'll make a mess! Chuwu, go get a knife to cut it!"
He glanced at the egg again.
"With only forty-two people, we'll never finish this thing. Just take a big chunk home each. As for the rest… well, I don't know what to do with it."
Gao Chuwu returned with a knife, and soon everyone received a generous slab of egg white and yolk—so big they had to bring out their bowls and basins to carry it.
The villagers devoured the food ravenously.
What remained was still a gigantic amount, too heavy to carry and too awkward to divide. The villagers fretted anxiously.
Outside the diorama, Li Daoxuan frowned.
If the leftover egg spoiled, it would stink up the whole place.
So he simply reached inside, picked up the remaining egg chunk, and tossed it into his kitchen trash can.
To the villagers, the giant egg suddenly shot up into the sky and vanished.
They nearly turned to stone in shock before dropping to their knees, bowing toward the heavens, thanking the Heavenly Lord for his divine blessing—and begging him to end the drought, grant good weather, and bless the harvest.
Once the commotion passed, the diorama grew quiet again.
The tiny villagers returned to their daily routine—working tirelessly.
Their routine was simple: search for food.
Up the hills, down the riverbed, digging, scavenging—anywhere they could.
Even after a full meal, boiled eggs didn't keep long.
They still worried about tomorrow.
Gao Yiye picked up her bamboo basket again and resumed searching for roots in the yellow sand.
After eating, she walked with more strength—no longer looking as pitifully weak as before.
Outside, Li Daoxuan watched all this with mixed feelings.
One egg wouldn't save them.
What next?
One egg every day?
Eggs alone wouldn't give them enough nutrition.
They needed rice. Vegetables.
Some meat now and then.
Also salt—humans couldn't live without salt. And these tiny people were still humans, weren't they?
The more he thought, the more complicated it became.
He scratched his head.
Why does this feel like I accidentally adopted a whole cage of little hamsters?
With forty-two tiny people, feeding them for a month would cost a few dollars.
He could afford that.
Fine, then.
He'd raise them.
He opened his browser and typed:
"How to feed a miniature civilization?"
No results.
He went to his favorite military-history forum and anonymously posted:
"If you had a group of tiny people from a miniature country, how would you raise them?"
Reply 1:
"Any girl tiny people? I'd pull her out every day and lift her skirt."
Reply 2:
"I'd peek at her bathing every day."
Li Daoxuan:
"Bunch of morons."
Talking with those clowns was pointless.
Looks like he would have to start from scratch and figure out miniature-human care by himself.
He went to his kitchen to check his food supplies…
Nothing.
Basically nothing.
Like most young city guys, he lived on takeout.
He only cooked occasionally—noodles, eggs, simple things.
So his fridge was almost empty: a few eggs, half a pack of dried noodles, oil, salt, sauces… that was it.
That definitely wouldn't work.
He checked the diorama to make sure the tiny villagers didn't need immediate help, then rushed out the door to the nearest supermarket.
He came back carrying a huge bag of rice, two slabs of pork, a bag of vegetables, and a big pack of salt—over a hundred yuan spent in one go.
Back home, he leaned over the diorama and counted.
Forty-two tiny people, all present, still diligently searching for food.
A mischievous thought struck him.
He cut open the rice bag and scooped up a handful of fragrant, snow-white grains.
Using a magnifying glass, he located Gao Yiye's tiny house.
It was painfully empty inside—almost no furniture at all.
Such an empty house… might as well decorate it a little.
He cupped his hand like a scoop and slowly poured rice through her little window—slowly, carefully—until half her house was filled with rice.
Satisfied, he dusted off his hands.
He couldn't wait to see her expression when she came home and found a mountain of rice waiting for her.