Li Daoxuan stared at the scenic box, foolishly gazing at it for yet another entire day. When hungry, he ordered takeout.

Time slipped away this way until evening arrived.

Outside the window, Shuangqing City was draped in golden sunset hues. Strangely, the scenery in the scenic box also transformed into a sunset view. Though an overhead fluorescent lamp illuminated the scenic box in his home—light that logically should penetrate the glass—it didn’t enter the box. Instead, the interior grew steadily darker and darker.

This box had too many peculiarities. Li Daoxuan had long stopped questioning minor oddities like the lighting.

He was slightly worried about Gao Chuwu and the three other young villagers. They had headed to the county town early in the morning and hadn’t returned yet. Had something happened to them outside?

His feeling mirrored that of keeping a courtyard full of kittens. Seeing four mischievous ones run off, unaware of their whereabouts—this caregiver couldn’t help but fret over their safe return.

Just then, five tiny figures suddenly appeared at the edge of the scenic box.

Li Daoxuan rushing with pride: “Great news! They returned safely.”

Indeed, Gao Chuwu and his group had returned.

County Lord Thirty-Two, whom they had knocked unconscious, woke up halfway along the road. He found himself marched along by four villagers wielding enormous wooden cudgels like Fearsome Deities.

Thirty-Two dared not resist. He stole glances at the four men, recognizing their simple, stubborn natures. Reasoning was futile; speaking too much nonsense risked another blow from their clubs. Thus, he remained silent, obediently trailing them all the way to Gajia Village.

Covering over fifteen kilometers was no small feat for the unaccustomed County Lord. Having eaten nothing all day, he arrived utterly exhausted, even unable to catch his breath.

Entering the village, Thirty-Two slumped to the ground: “Finally at Gajia Village. Fine gentlemen, what purpose is there in summoning me here? Will you reveal it now? This is called ‘The map unfurls and the blade appears.’”

Gao Chuwu: “You three, watch County Lord here. I’ll call Yiye.”

Sprinting toward Gao Yiye’s home, he hoped to notify the Great deity through her.

But Li Daoxuan had long spotted their group. No notification was needed. Addressing Gao Yiye’s house, he spoke: “Yiye, Yiye…”

Gao Yiye had just finished her evening meal and was mending worn clothes when the Great deity’s voice jolted her. She sprang from her broken stool onto the floor: “What instructions has the Great deity?”

Li Daoxuan: “Gao Chuwu has brought back a seemingly learned man. Ask him a few questions on my behalf.”

Gao Yiye understood: “I obey the Great deity’s commands.”

Li Daoxuan: “Go now. Gao Chuwu is almost at your door.”

Gao Yiye rose and pulled open the door.

The instant the door creaked inward, Gao Chuwu outside, hand raised to knock, froze: “Huh? Yiye? How did you…?”

Gao Yiye answered: “The Great deity told me you had returned, with a scholar.”

Gao Chuwu gazed upward at the sky with awe-filled eyes.

Gao Yiye dashed toward the village entrance. By now, nearly the entire village had gathered. Such a small settlement meant several households could glimpse events near the entrance from their windows; shouts ensured all emerged.

Forty-two villagers—men, women, young, and old—stood assembled before Thirty-Two.

The setting sun cast long, slanted shadows, draping the silent crowd in golden twilight. The scene felt distinctly eerie beneath the fading light.

Thirty-Two felt crushing pressure and fear. Before anyone spoke, he blurted out: “Good villagers, no misunderstanding here! I swear to heaven, it wasn’t my idea to press taxes! I spoke your case! I urged the County Lord against collection, and he expelled me from the county hall! Truly! I swear! Please don’t beat me! Lay grievances with the County Lord himself… This is called ‘Reckoning grievances justly!’”

The crowd parted, and Gao Yiye stepped forward directly facing Thirty-Two.

Positioned center stage, Thirty-Two’s gaze fixed on her. He puzzled internally: What manner of village was this? Typically, an esteemed elder took charge. Here stood merely a young girl?

Gao Yiye tilted her head, listening to the heavens, then adopted a stern expression: “State your identity, occupation, level of scholarship, and worldly experience.”

Thirty-Two stiffened slightly: “My surname is San. Born on the second day of the tenth month, hence the name Thirty-Two. Formerly, County Lord of Chengcheng County, Shaanxi Province’s… cough… former. Now dismissed. I’ve toiled through ten winters of dedicated study, traveled far and wide across the land. This is called ‘Surpassing talents and learning high as eight measures!’”

Li Daoxuan found him normal until the last four words. Suddenly louder, exaggerated expression, striking a pose. Utterly ludicrous. Li Daoxuan couldn’t help an inward laugh: “Yiye, ask him the current year and month.”

Gao Yiye rushing with pride; she swiftly relayed the Great deity’s words.

Hearing the question, Thirty-Two blinked in surprise: Current year? Peasants trapped deep within the countryside, oblivious to the wider world, certainly exist. Yet why seek such information?

Confounded though he remained, he dared not refuse an answer.

Thirty-Two drew himself sternly upright, face solemn: “The present is Year Seven of Tianqi, the seventh month. This is called… er… Damn it! No proper idiom fits!”

He clutched his head in visible distress, agony etched across his face, tormented by linguistic failure.

The crowd stood silent.

Villagers found his frantic plight both pitiable and amusing.

Li Daoxuan, however, didn’t laugh. He froze solid. As a regular lurker on military history forums, “Year Seven of Tianqi” stabbed familiarity deep into him.

This was a real reign year of the Ming Dynasty!

Emperor Tianqi Zhu Youxiao died of illness that year. Emperor Chongzhen Zhu Youjian ascended the throne. Massive drought gripped the land. Ming Dynasty peasant uprising simmered, ready to explode. The Dynasty itself teetered on less than two final decades of existence.

How?! Could this scenic box view into authentic Ming Dynasty history?

No, impossible. Merely coincidental shared reign eras?

Li Daoxuan commanded low: “Yiye, ask him the Emperor’s name.”

Yiye pressed the question.

Thirty-Two turned grave at such audacity: “This lowly one dares not utter His Majestic Majesty’s exalted name. This exemplifies ‘Revering the sovereign and fostering his blessed people!'”

Li Daoxuan: “Beat him up.”