Li Dao Xuan had meticulously prepared for this moment. He had a basin of water that had been sitting undisturbed for several days to settle any impurities, and he carefully filled the reservoir of the medical atomizer. He plugged the device into a power outlet, checked the connections, and took a deep breath.
It was time for a trial run.
He certainly didn't dare to point the device directly over Gao Village just yet. If the atomizer turned out to be defective, if it suddenly malfunctioned and unleashed a torrential flood instead of a fine mist, he had no idea how many of the little people would be washed away or drowned in the deluge.
The northern hillside was also out of the question. It was currently late afternoon, and the labor reform convicts were out on the slopes taking their scheduled rest break. If he sprayed them, he'd essentially be waterboarding a group of tiny prisoners.
He tapped the "South" and "West" directional buttons on the Great Box's control panel several times, shifting his perspective toward the southwest outskirts of the village. This area contained a stretch of the official government road leading toward the county seat, and it was usually deserted at this hour. It was the perfect, empty stage for a test of divine proportions.
He lifted the lid of the Great Box and prepared to lower the atomizer's nozzle into the world within. However, his movement suddenly stiffened, and he froze mid-motion.
This isn't right, he thought, staring at the industrial plastic nozzle.
The design was hideous. If the villagers looked up and saw a massive, clinical-looking spray nozzle and a series of strange tubes descending from the firmament, they would be terrified. They'd probably think he wasn't sending rain at all, but some kind of celestial poison or divine pestilence.
He scanned his toy shelf for a solution until his eyes landed on a plastic Chinese dragon model.
Aha! This should do the trick.
He carefully snapped the dragon's head off the body and hollowed it out, concealing the atomizer's nozzle inside the dragon's gaping maw. He secured it with double-sided tape and inspected his handiwork from several angles. It looked reasonably convincing, or at least, a lot less like a piece of hospital equipment.
Preparation: complete.
He lowered the dragon's head into the box once more, stopping it at a safe altitude. He flipped the switch on the medical atomizer, and the device responded with a low, steady hum as it began to vaporize the water. A cloud of mist, with particles only 2.2 micrometers in diameter, began to billow from the dragon's mouth, drifting downward toward the earth below.
A middle-aged craftsman from Chengcheng County was trudging toward Gao Village.
He had traveled over thirty li, and as the day waned, he found himself exhausted and hollow with hunger. He looked toward the horizon, where the silhouettes of Gao Village loomed a few miles away under the setting sun, and his heart flickered with a volatile mix of anticipation and terror.
"My heart is sincere," he muttered to himself, his voice cracked with thirst. "I've risked my life to travel this far. Please, let this not be a lie. Let Dao Xuan Tianzun be real. Let him save me."
His mind was a swirling storm of doubt and desperate hope. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he dragged his aching limbs forward, forcing himself to move toward the village stronghold.
As he walked, something felt different.
The air suddenly turned cool. It was a refreshing, damp sensation that seemed to come out of nowhere. A few dozen paces ahead, something was drifting down from the sky, a fine, misty drizzle.
The craftsman gasped, his eyes widening.
"Rain! It's raining up ahead!"
As a specialized craftsman rather than a farmer, he didn't own land, meaning he belonged to the lowest class of "untouchables." His reaction to rain wasn't as primal as a farmer's. He didn't immediately lose his mind with ecstasy. But after three years of dust and bone-dry heat, the sight of falling water was still enough to fill him with a giddy joy.
"Wait... that's strange," he muttered, slowing his pace. "Why is it only raining on that one specific patch of ground?"
Realizing something was deeply wrong with the natural order, he snapped his head upward.
There, hanging in the sky, was a single, strangely low-hanging cloud, barely seventy zhang above the ground. And from the heart of that cloud protruded a massive, majestic dragon's head. Its mouth was wide open, aimed directly at the earth, spewing out a silver veil of rain.
The dragon's head even swayed occasionally, as if the celestial beast were deliberately adjusting its aim to ensure the ground was evenly watered.
The craftsman froze, his brain momentarily short-circuiting under the sheer impossibility of the sight.
Then, a second later, he let out a frantic, lung-bursting scream.
"The Dragon King! The Dragon King is here! Ahhh! It's the Dragon King bringing the rain!"
Having finished his shout, he threw caution to the wind. He sprinted with every ounce of his remaining strength toward the rain-slicked patch of road. It had been three long years since he'd felt a single drop of water on his skin. He didn't care about his clothes or his dignity. He just wanted to drown in the mist.
"Dragon King! Your humble servant is coming! I'm coming!"
He charged toward the circle of rain.
But by then, Li Dao Xuan had finished his testing.
The mist was perfect, fine enough that even when scaled up 200 times, it remained a gentle, soaking drizzle that wouldn't damage the crops or hurt the people. There was no point in watering an empty road anymore. It was time to give the people of Gao Village what they had been praying for.
Li Dao Xuan reached out and pressed the "North" and "East" buttons.
Within the box, the field of vision began to slide toward the northeast. Consequently, the dragon's head and the misty veil it emitted followed the movement, drifting naturally toward the village.
The craftsman was still running toward where the rain had been, but since he hadn't yet entered the box's active field of vision, Li Dao Xuan couldn't see him. He had no idea that a fanatical little person was currently chasing his rain like a starving dog after a bone.
The man kept running, only to realize with a shock that the rain was retreating.
The low cloud was drifting away to the northeast, and the dragon's head was moving with it. The entire storm was migrating away from him.
"Hey! Wait for me!" the craftsman wailed. "Dragon King! Please, wait for your servant!"
He pushed himself even harder, his legs pumping in a desperate pursuit.
The craftsman was like a toad hopping along the ground, while the Dragon King was like a swan soaring through the clouds. No matter how hard the toad hopped, he simply couldn't catch the swan.
He watched as the dragon's head moved over the fields surrounding Gao Village.
A massive crowd of villagers began to pour out of their homes, their voices rising in a cacophony of cheers, laughter, and pure, unadulterated ecstasy. They danced in the drizzle, rolling in the damp dirt and reaching their hands toward the sky.
The craftsman summoned his final reserves of energy.
Run! Just keep running!
Finally, he burst into the outskirts of Gao Village.
He was surrounded by villagers who were practically vibrating with joy. Even the labor reform convicts had abandoned their posts, sprinting down the hillside to spin in circles under the dragon's breath.
Some people tilted their heads back with their mouths wide open, trying to catch every drop. Others rolled on the ground, completely indifferent to the mud caking their clothes. Some simply clutched their family members and sobbed uncontrollably into the wet earth.
Then, the crowd began to chant in a thunderous, rhythmic roar.
"Tianzun is merciful!"
"Tianzun protects us!"
"Our deepest thanks to Dao Xuan Tianzun!"
The craftsman, standing in the middle of the chaos and soaked to the bone, felt a wave of confusion wash over him. He grabbed a nearby villager by the shoulder.
"Wait! It's clearly the Dragon King who is bringing the rain! Why are you all thanking Dao Xuan Tianzun? Aren't you afraid of offending the Dragon King by giving the credit to the wrong god?"
The villager burst into a boisterous laugh.
"You don't know anything, do you? The Dragon King was invited here by Dao Xuan Tianzun! He's only helping us because he's doing the Old Man a favor! Of course we thank Tianzun first. The Dragon King is just here on the Old Man's behalf!"
The craftsman stood there, stunned.
!!!
Sure enough, once the villagers finished their praises to Tianzun, they turned their attention to the dragon's head and offered a polite, secondary round of thanks.
"If it rains like this for just a few days, the soil will finally be moist enough," a farmer shouted happily. "We can start preparing to sow the autumn wheat!"
"My collection of seeds! I can finally use them! Hahaha!"
"Thank you, Tianzun! We can finally grow our own food again!"
"Last time, Tianzun promised that the weather would be favorable and the harvest would be bountiful next year! The Old Man truly keeps his word! Once the wheat is harvested, I'm going to burn the finest incense in his name!"
The middle-aged craftsman stood frozen in the crowd, listening to the ecstatic chatter of the people around him.
Suddenly, tears began to stream down his face, mixing with the cool rain.
I made the right choice, he thought, his heart swelling with relief. The Layman didn't lie to me. Now that I'm here, I know exactly what I must do.
He realized that he needed to show his sincerity. That was the most important thing.
He turned toward the towering walls of Gao Village stronghold, which stood like a silent guardian in the mist. He straightened his wet clothes, smoothed his hair, and walked toward the massive gates with a look of profound reverence.
When he reached the entrance, he collapsed onto his knees with a heavy thud.
"Tianzun, have mercy! Please, save this humble servant!"