As night fell over Xi'an, the city gradually slipped into a strangely dreamlike state.
Lanterns lit the streets. The marketplace buzzed. And above the clamor of daily life, one shared anticipation quietly united everyone.
It was time.
News time.
On a second-floor platform overlooking the street, Zhu Cunji, heir to the Prince of Qin, arrived early—again.
This platform was his proud creation: a "private viewing seat," built at great expense and even greater smugness. As he settled in comfortably, guards immediately brought out an assortment of strange snacks:
Want-Want senbei crackers.
Popping candy.
Potato chips.
And a bottle of something known as "Happy Fat Water."
Zhu Cunji took a sip, sighed in satisfaction, and leaned back.
His consort sat beside him, smiling gently, eyes bright with amusement.
From above, they could see the Prefect of Xi'an, Censor Wu Shen, and a crowd of other officials standing awkwardly at the street corner below.
Zhu Cunji laughed.
"Look at them," he said smugly. "Not a single one clever enough to build a private viewing platform. They're stuck squeezing with the common folk."
He took another bite of chips.
"Tragic."
Below, the marketplace intersection was already packed.
People stood shoulder to shoulder, craning their necks toward the towering Immortal Treasure Mirror. This scene repeated itself every single evening.
Entertainment was scarce in these times.
And the news—somehow—had become everyone's favorite show.
The appointed hour arrived.
Wang Tang walked up to the Immortal Treasure Mirror with practiced ease. With a few swift motions, he powered on the tablet.
The broadcast began.
On the screen appeared the familiar figure of Saintess Gao Yiye.
She was as elegant as ever—but tonight, her expression was grave.
"Today," Gao Yiye said slowly, "we must first broadcast a special report."
Her voice carried a weight that instantly quieted the crowd.
"Please watch this footage sent by reporter Tie Niaofei from Xuanfu and Datong."
The screen darkened.
Then lit up again.
Zhang Zongheng, Supreme Commander of the Xuan-Da Command, appeared.
At that moment, everyone—from nobles to officials to commoners—felt it.
Something was wrong.
No one blinked.
They watched as the Later Jin fabricated a pretext for war.
They watched the imperial decree arrive.
They heard the cold words ordering officials to defend their cities—or be executed.
When the footage ended—
Silence.
Zhu Cunji's mouth hung open.
Wide.
Very wide.
He stayed like that for a long time.
His consort panicked and tugged his sleeve.
"Don't speak!" she whispered urgently. "Our family is different from others. They can complain. We cannot. Not a single word!"
Zhu Cunji swallowed.
Hard.
Every thought, every curse, every complaint was shoved violently back down his throat.
He did not dare utter a sound.
The first to break the silence was Wu Shen.
"Is this a joke?!" he shouted. "Handling matters like this—utter madness! The Emperor is completely reckless!"
Publicly criticizing the Emperor.
Only a Censor would dare.
And of the Great Ming's Censors, nine out of ten were famously unhinged.
With Wu Shen leading the charge, the dam broke.
The crowd erupted.
"The Manchu are invading!"
"Just like that play—A Border Soldier at Daling River!"
"They're already in Shanxi! That's close to us!"
"The Emperor should send reinforcements! Weapons! Supplies! How can he just issue one order and wash his hands of it?"
"Hush!" someone hissed. "Are you courting death? How dare you criticize the Emperor?"
"Shi Kefa's on sick leave anyway!"
"You think the Jinyiwei disappear just because Shi Kefa isn't here?"
"…Uh."
At this point, even if Jinyiwei were mixed into the crowd, they wouldn't know where to start.
Thousands of people were openly cursing Zhu Youjian.
Arrest everyone?
Good luck.
Meanwhile—
In Gao Family Village.
In Puzhou City, Chengcheng County, Heyang County.
Across Hedong Circuit, Pingyang Prefecture, Yan'an Prefecture—
Everywhere Dao Xuan Tianzun had placed Immortal Treasure Mirrors, people gathered.
They watched.
They discussed.
They argued.
Once upon a time, most common folk were illiterate, trapped within the narrow radius of their villages.
But years of daily broadcasts had changed that.
News from hundreds, even thousands of li away now reached them effortlessly. Their worldview expanded. Their judgment sharpened.
They no longer blindly believed in "imperial authority."
They no longer comforted themselves with excuses like:
"The Emperor is good, it's just corrupt officials."
"It's all the eunuchs' fault."
They understood something fundamental:
If the bureaucracy rotted, if the nation suffered—
the Emperor bore responsibility.
In Xi'an, a militia soldier undergoing ideological training shouted:
"Send me to Xuanfu and Datong! I'll fight the Manchu to the death!"
"Me too!"
"Is it too late to enlist?"
"I'll bring a hoe if I have to!"
"Shut up!" a fishmonger roared. "You don't know formations or martial skills. You'll just get in the way. If you want to help, help properly!"
"I'll donate a dou of rice to the border army!"
"But how do we make sure it reaches them?"
"Then we'll find a way! If the Emperor won't send supplies—we will!"
Emotion surged like a rising tide.
Outside the diorama box—
Li Daoxuan shifted perspectives again and again, watching city after city.
A deep sense of relief welled up inside him.
Years of comics.
Plays.
Films.
Education disguised as entertainment.
It had worked.
The people were awake.
And with the support of the people…
Anything was possible.
Li Daoxuan shifted his consciousness once more—this time into the Puppet Dao Xuan Tianzun carried by Gao Chuwu.
This puppet, once used to terrify Huang Yunfa in Hedong Circuit, had long since become one of Gao Chuwu's treasured items.
The moment Li Daoxuan entered—
Something felt wrong.
Two chubby hands were kneading him.
Squeezing.
Tugging.
He focused his vision.
It was Gao Chuwu and Xing Honglang's infant son, barely a few months old, happily flipping the puppet over and over.
Li Daoxuan: "…Oh."
"Hello there," he said warmly. "You've grown quite a bit."
The infant replied enthusiastically:
"Waa! Waa! Waa!"
A talking puppet would terrify any adult.
But the baby?
He was thrilled.
He babbled louder, waving his arms, squeezing the puppet even harder.
Li Daoxuan fell silent.
…Perhaps Heaven's Will could wait a moment.