Li Yuan sat cross-legged in the corner of the library shelves, surrounded by piles of dusty books—yet his mind was elsewhere.
His thoughts still echoed with the words from the book:
"Do not chase power. Chase understanding. For with understanding, the world will bow to you—without the need to raise your hand."
He closed his eyes. In the silence, he drew a breath—slow, deep, and gentle… as if not to wake the world.
This breath was no longer just for living. It was for understanding.
"I've always felt something was off," he thought.
"There's always been a dissonance in how people speak of strength, of victory… Everyone wants to conquer, not to understand."
He remembered his father, who always taught him to watch, to listen, then to act.
And he remembered his teacher—the one who had first taught him how to read, to write… and to be silent.
"Breath does not belong only to the body. Breath is how the soul speaks to the world."
That sentence now felt real. With every inhale and exhale, Li Yuan began to sense the pulse of the world.
Faint. Quiet.
But in that stillness, something began to connect.
Not power. Not aura.
But a subtle rhythm—as if the world itself was breathing with him.
He opened his eyes. His gaze was clearer than before.
"If this is martial arts… then this is the path I choose," he said to himself.
"The path of understanding, not conquest."
That day, Li Yuan didn't gain a mighty technique, nor did he learn a powerful move, nor master anything visible to the eye.
But something shifted.
A foundation within him—quiet and still until now—had stirred.
And true change…
always begins with what cannot be seen.