That day, the skies of every dynasty split open all at once.
Outside the Xianyang Palace in the Qin dynasty, Qin Shi Huang was proudly admiring the realm he had conquered when the sky screen suddenly lit up. A close-up of a short-legged corgi wiggling its butt filled the sky, accompanied by energetic music.
Ying Zheng: “??? What kind of demon beast is this?! Protect me! Guards! Wait... why can its backside wiggle so... rhythmically?”
In the Han dynasty, Emperor Wu of Han, Liu Che, was discussing plans to campaign north with his ministers when the sky screen suddenly began playing a “Try Not to Laugh” challenge. Watching their descendants contort their faces as they struggled not to laugh at the screen, the great ruler and his civil and military officials stared at one another in bewilderment.
Liu Che, his mouth twitching: “...Zhongqing, should I... laugh or not? Could this be some kind of Xiongnu witchcraft?”
In the Tang dynasty, Li Shimin was in the middle of his usual court routine with Wei Zheng, accepting remonstrances and getting roasted, when the sky screen lit up and began playing a food video titled “Ten Minutes to Eat Your Way Through Sichuan Hotpot.” Red oil bubbled, and tripe flew about.
Li Shimin, swallowing reflexively: “Xuancheng, hold off on your remonstrance for a moment... I think I may have just seen some incredible immortal delicacy?”
Meanwhile, the person responsible for all this, modern-day office worker Jiang Xiaoyou, had no idea what was happening. She was simply sprawled on the sofa, happily scrolling through her phone, completely unaware that a silly video she had casually liked was unleashing a tsunami across parallel worlds.
It was incomprehensible, disjointed, and the plot was fragmented, making my eyes hurt.