The temple of Dao Xuan Deity was under frantic construction.

After the incident where the Deity teased the officials, the newcomers to the village were utterly shocked, transforming into staunch fanatics of the Dao Xuan Deity Teachings almost in an instant.

As for people, once they become fanatics, they work for their faith as if their lives depended on it; even though they themselves lacked houses to live in, they put forth every ounce of their strength to build the Deity’s temple.

The entire Gaojia Village was filled with a thriving, bustling atmosphere.

This atmosphere persisted for six straight days, and today was the seventh.

It was noon.

The sunlight was scorching!

The temperature was climbing back towards 40 degrees.

Li Daoxuan had just moved his face over the box, intending to observe the little figures’ daily lives, when he heard Gao Yiye shouting loudly from below: “Deity, the two sculpture uncles want to speak with you.”

“Let them speak,” Li Daoxuan thought silently to himself: It’s come! The thing I’ve been waiting for has arrived.

Sure enough, the two sculptors approached, knelt respectfully and kowtowed first, then reported: “Deity, the clay statue we carved for you, and the wooden statue of Sun Wukong you asked for, are both finished and ready for painting.”

“Very good.” Li Daoxuan had been waiting for this day; he was fully prepared. He took out a small sheet of tin foil, placed it inside the box, spread it flat before the two sculptors, then used a pre-prepared straw to suck up a bit of red paint and dripped it onto the tin foil.

What he dripped was merely a drop less than five millimeters in diameter, but to the sculptors, it appeared as a paint ball three inches wide that landed on the “tin foil board” with a splat, spreading out with a startlingly loud noise.

The two sculptors cautiously walked up to the puddle of paint, dabbed a tiny stick into the red paint, and sniffed it: “So this is divine paint from heaven! Much better than the paint from our mortal world.”

The paint used during the Ming Dynasty was called xiuri lacquer, a natural paint made by processing juice from lacquer trees mixed with pigments, and though it was close to modern paint, it had flaws like chipping easily and poor shine, so after painting, they often added a layer of tung oil to protect it and boost the gloss.

In contrast, the modern paint Li Daoxuan gave them was a top-notch product, developed in the 20th century using polymer compounds—doesn’t that phrase sound awesome? Yet it only cost 15 yuan per small can! Not only did it grip stronger, but the colors were more vivid and the shine higher. Once applied, it didn’t need extra tung oil and gleamed like an oily middle-aged man’s forehead, surpassing Ming Dynasty paint in every way.

After just a look, the two sculptors were certain this was divine paint from heaven.

“We have red! Next is green, blue…”

Li Daoxuan dripped a drop of each color for them, which was nearly enough.

When he first started giving items to the small people, he hadn’t mastered portioning, leading to blunders like dropping a whole egg on them and wasting resources, but now he knew how to control the amounts and conserve supplies.

Seeing a full array of paint colors, the sculptors were thrilled; in their trade before, they only had access to three or five dull-colored options—never such a rich palette to pick from.

Especially gold paint, which was so precious that it was personally managed by an agent sent by a wealthy lord, only brought out for supervised use and never entrusted to them in such large quantities.

Only the Deity was this generous, giving us so much gold paint.

Now they could unleash their creativity freely.

Taking brushes and dipping them in paint, they worked with gusto, drawing on the wooden statue of Sun Wukong as Supreme Treasure.

Li Daoxuan didn’t interrupt them; he looked over to the workers constructing the temple under the fierce noon sun.

As he glanced that way, he saw a villager carrying stones stumble underfoot and almost fall; someone nearby quickly supported him. The villager set down the rock, held his forehead, and sat slumped with help from companions, looking unwell.

“Heatstroke?”

Li Daoxuan reacted instantly.

In this sizzling heat of a late July noon, during a severe drought, it was no surprise that villagers laboring in the blazing sun suffered heatstroke; in fact, it was a miracle only one case appeared after three days—how had they managed to hold out earlier?

Thirty-two ran over and urgently directed villagers to fetch water from the pond, while a crowd circled around the heat-stricken little figure.

Li Daoxuan felt a pang of pity for his little people.

What to do?

Why, the answer was obvious!

He strode to the refrigerator, yanked open the freezer door, and pulled out a tray of ice cubes.

Tiny ice shards clung to the tray’s edge. He scooped one up with his fingertip and placed it before the heat-struck villager.

A crowd of little folk had gathered anxiously around their swooning companion. Someone had fetched a bucket of water from the pond and was soaking a cloth scrap, intending to cool him with a damp compress, when suddenly a massive ice block descended from above. The villagers froze in surprise, then shouted in realization: “The Deity has bestowed ice upon us!”

One villager promptly laid the damp cloth over the ice. Once the fabric chilled completely, they draped it over the stricken villager’s forehead.

Another broke off a small chip from the ice, dropped it into a water bowl, and fed the icy drink to the swooning man.

After much bustling, the afflicted man finally showed signs of recovery.

Li Daoxuan breathed a sigh of relief. With the immediate crisis averted, he turned his attention to preventing further heatstrokes.

He chipped another sliver from the ice block and placed it inside a mineral water bottle lid. Then he cracked open a bottle of cola and poured it into the lid.

Clink! Clink!

A miniature version of iced cola was complete.

He returned to the scenic box and carefully lowered the lid brimming with cold cola before his tiny people.

The villagers gaped stupidly at the huge pond of strange, brownish liquid that frothed and fizzed. Stuck upright in its center stood an ice chunk nearly as tall as a person itself. Icy vapor rose from the whole pool, and just standing near it sent a wave of cool relief washing over them.

“What in the world is this?”

“Never seen anything like it.”

“I smell something sweet… there’s sugar in here.”

“It is sugary!“

“But it’s bubbling weirdly. Could it be poisonous?”

“Since when has the Deity ever poisoned us? Calling this ‘poison’ disrespects His Excellency!”

“Someone! Beat this jerk to death!”

“Wait… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it…”

The villagers erupted into commotion, momentarily forgetting their heat-struck brother altogether.

“Stop fussing! And no beating!” cut in Gao Yiye’s voice. “The Deity says this is called ‘happy fat water.’ Drinking it wards off the heat.”

Thrilled, the villagers surged to the “pond’s” edge, scooping up the liquid with cupped hands and gulping it down.

“Ah!”

“Cough! Cough! Splutter!”

“So fizzy! But somehow… feels great.”

“It feels… joyous.”

“So that’s why it’s called happy fat water! I get the ‘happy’ part, but ‘fat’ eludes me. What do those characters mean exactly?”

Dozens of pairs of eyes turned expectantly toward Thirty-Two, eager for the learned man’s interpretation.

Thirty-Two snorted. “‘Fat’ means plump, but it can also signify something large. ‘Fat home’ signifies a grand, prosperous family. Therefore, ‘happy fat water’ means water that brings joy to an entire, large household. See? That’s an immortal realm’s profound logic.”

The villagers had an epiphany. “Third Lady is ever so learned!”

Thirty-Two roared with laughter, fetched a large teacup, scooped a full measure from the pool, and downed it in one go. Instantly his eyes squeezed shut. Cough! Cough! Gag! Burp! The taste assaulted him fiercely… yet it was incredibly refreshing. Joy indeed!

A feeble protest came from the heat-struck villager still on the ground. “How… come… no one… cares… for me…?”

The villagers snapped back. “Huh? Quickly! Get him a cupful!”

Gao Yiye shouted, “Hold it! The Deity says heatstroke victims should not drink happy fat water. They must drink plain water first. Only after recovering may they partake of happy water.”

The stricken villager whimpered, “Do I… not deserve… the Deity’s… largesse then…?”

His head lolled sideways…

“Brother! Don’t die! Don’t die!”

Several villagers hurriedly knelt beside him, only to discover he was feigning death. Laughter erupted again. “This rascal seems revived—energetic enough to fake dying! Haul him up! Let’s make him swallow a tiny sip of happy fat water…”

“Hahaha… burp… ah… so joyous… so joyous…”