Li Daoxuan felt a brief surge of frustration at the limitations of his field of view, but the irritation quickly gave way to realization. Five days ago, he had installed a surveillance camera beside the diorama box, configuring it to monitor the interior continuously. Since the device recorded on a loop, last night's footage should still be available.
He immediately picked up his phone, opened the surveillance app, and scrolled through the recordings.
He had gone to sleep sometime after two in the morning, so he only needed to review the footage from that point onward.
It did not take long for the truth behind the so-called water theft to reveal itself.
Under the cover of night, a large group of ragged figures crept toward Gao Family Village. Their clothes were tattered, their bodies thin, and their movements cautious. In the pale glow of moonlight, they approached the pond in silence. One by one, they lowered their wooden buckets, filled them with water, lifted them onto their shoulders, and hurried away toward the darkness beyond the village.
About an hour later, they returned.
Once again, they filled two buckets each and fled.
This continued for three rounds, spanning nearly three hours. Only when the faint light of dawn began to appear did the group finally stop coming. By then, the water level in the pond had visibly dropped by nearly two feet.
Li Daoxuan stared at the footage, momentarily at a loss for words.
He put his phone away. Below, the villagers were still in an uproar.
"Where did those shameless thieves come from?" one villager shouted angrily. "How dare they steal water from our village!"
"This is outrageous!" another added. "This water was bestowed upon us by Tianzun. How can we just let others take it?"
"Where is the Village Chief?" someone else called out anxiously. "We must ask him what to do. Should we follow their tracks and beat those thieves senseless?"
"We must beat them," another voice insisted. "We must reclaim our water. Otherwise, Tianzun may blame us for failing to protect His divine gift."
At that moment, Li Daoxuan spoke.
"Gao Yiye. Tell everyone there is no need to pursue this matter."
Gao Yiye froze.
She had been standing among the villagers, her heart filled with indignation on Tianzun's behalf. Suddenly, His voice descended from above. Startled, she lifted her head toward the sky, and there, faintly visible among the clouds, she saw His youthful and handsome face.
Her breath caught.
"Tianzun," she said urgently, "someone has stolen Your divine blessing. Are You not angry?"
At her words, the villagers immediately turned toward her. Seeing her gaze fixed upon the heavens, speaking with reverence, they understood at once. Every single one of them fell silent, covering their mouths, not daring to utter even a whisper.
Li Daoxuan spoke calmly.
"Tell them these people are villagers from another settlement. They have no water and stand on the brink of death from thirst. That is why they risked stealing from Gao Family Village."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"The amount they took is insignificant. I will replenish the pond. There is no need to pursue those who are simply trying to survive."
Gao Yiye listened carefully, then turned and relayed every word to the villagers without omission.
The change was immediate.
The villagers' anger vanished, replaced by reverence and awe. One after another, they fell to their knees and kowtowed toward the heavens.
"Tianzun is merciful!"
"His divine grace knows no bounds!"
"Such compassion!"
"Savior of the suffering!"
Their voices overlapped in a chaotic chorus of praise, some words drawn from Daoist reverence, others from Buddhist devotion, all blending into one sincere expression of gratitude.
Li Daoxuan let out a quiet sigh.
A realization settled firmly in his mind.
Saving just forty-two people was far from enough.
His gaze drifted toward the direction the water thieves had come from.
My next task… is to save more of them.
I'll start with those desperate people.
I only hope my finances can keep up.
Night fell once more.
One by one, the forty-two villagers returned to their homes and fell asleep. The diorama box resumed its silent, living stillness.
But Li Daoxuan did not sleep.
He remained seated at his computer, browsing historical records from the late Ming Dynasty. From time to time, his eyes flicked toward the diorama box, especially toward the northern edge, where the water thieves had appeared the previous night.
The hours passed.
Deep into the night.
Three in the morning.
Outside his window, Shuangqing City remained alive. Cars sped along distant roads, and beyond the apartment complex, laughter and shouting rose from groups gathered around barbecue stalls. The modern world never truly slept.
Li Daoxuan picked up his phone and ordered some late-night barbecue.
Just then, movement caught his eye.
At the northern edge of the diorama box, a small, ragged figure cautiously emerged.
The man looked toward Gao Family Village, hesitated, then waved behind him.
More figures appeared.
Dozens of them.
Each carried wooden buckets across their shoulders, their bodies bent forward as they crept toward the pond with careful, silent steps.
Li Daoxuan immediately closed his window, shutting out the sounds of the city. The room fell into near silence.
He leaned closer and pressed his ear against the diorama box.
Inside, the tiny figures moved like ghosts. Not a single footstep could be heard.
Before long, they reached the edge of the pond.
The man at the front leaned forward to look inside, then froze.
"What is it, Brother Wang?" someone whispered behind him.
Brother Wang pointed at the water, his voice trembling with disbelief.
"Last night, we took at least two feet of water," he said quietly. "And Gao Family Village has been drawing from it all day. The level should have dropped even further. But look at it now… it's completely full again."
Li Daoxuan nearly laughed.
Of course it was full. He had poured more water into it earlier.
The water thieves gathered closer, staring at the pond in stunned silence.
"It hasn't rained," one of them murmured.
"So how did it refill?"
"This makes no sense…"
Brother Wang clenched his jaw. Though confusion filled his face, he forced himself to remain focused.
"Enough," he whispered harshly. "Stop wasting time. Fill the buckets. If the villagers catch us, we'll never escape."
That snapped them back to reality.
They hurried forward, dipping their buckets into the water.
Some of them could not even wait. They knelt beside the pond and plunged their heads directly into the water, drinking greedily.
Li Daoxuan watched in silence.
A heavy feeling settled in his chest.
These people were refugees.
Desperate people, driven to the edge.
His eyes shifted toward his bag of rice.
He considered dropping some in.
But then he hesitated.
If he dropped rice into the box, each grain would become enormous, stretching forty to sixty centimeters long. Their small wooden buckets would never be able to carry such massive grains. He could not expect them to roll the rice across the ground for miles like Gao Family Village had done before.
That would only frighten them.
It might even cause panic… or worse.
No.
Rice was not suitable.
His gaze shifted to the bag of flour beside it.
Flour was different. It was finely ground, almost like dust. Even after expanding two hundred times, it would still resemble coarse grain rather than enormous solid objects.
They could carry it easily.
And more importantly, it would not terrify them.
Li Daoxuan reached out and pinched a small amount of flour between his fingers.
While the refugees remained focused on filling their buckets, he carefully lowered his hand and released the flour behind them.
Inside the diorama box, the flour fell silently, forming a small, pale mound.
Like a quiet gift from the heavens.