Night fell slowly. A thin mist began to rise from the surface of the lake, dancing above waters that reflected the starry sky. The world was so silent, it felt as if it held its breath. Li Yuan sat at the edge of the lake, his posture upright but not rigid. He wasn't meditating, nor was he asleep he was simply present.
Moonlight fell on his face. A calm face, like the lake before him.
The water did not move, yet in its stillness, it reflected everything. And in that stillness, Li Yuan began to realize something.
"Water does not reject shadows. It receives them, then releases without a trace."
The night breeze drifted gently, carrying the sounds of crickets and rustling leaves. Li Yuan extended his hand and dipped it into the water. He felt its coldness, but also its gentleness. He wasn't seeking understanding yet understanding came.
In the world within him, the world of Zhenjing, a lake began to form. Still, vast, boundless. And from that lake emerged the image of unmoving water yet it held everything.
"To receive does not mean to be passive. But to absorb, purify, and then release unburdened."
From behind the bushes, a small fox appeared. Its eyes glowed in the dark, but there was no malice. It was only thirsty, and slowly approached the lake. Li Yuan did not move. The fox drank peacefully, as if it knew the human figure nearby was no threat.
When it had finished, the fox looked at Li Yuan for a long moment—curious, intent—before turning and disappearing once more into the dark of night.
Li Yuan smiled faintly.
"Life isn't always about changing things. Sometimes it's enough to simply be a place others can trust."
As the night grew deeper, the sound of footsteps echoed in the distance.
One... two... three...
Li Yuan slowly turned his head. Across the lake, a figure in a grey robe stood. Their face was covered by cloth, and their breathing was long, like someone who had walked for ages. The figure said nothing. Simply watched Li Yuan.
And Li Yuan… simply watched back.
That night became a night without words.
But more understanding was born in silence than in a thousand conversations.
And the lake… remembered it all.
The light of dusk began to crawl across the lake's surface. Silver gleams swayed gently atop the small ripples, reflecting light like sheets of cracked mirror.
Li Yuan sat cross-legged on a flat stone at the water's edge. A soft breeze touched his hair, and his breath gradually merged with the flow of the surrounding air. At this lake, he said nothing. But the world spoke to him.
"Still… but not empty," he thought.
Yet something shifted.
Across the lake, among the shadows of dense trees, a figure stood.
Clad in a grey robe that covered almost their entire body. The face wasn't visible, veiled by a hood. But the presence held neither the intent to kill nor the warmth of goodwill. It was like... a breath that had yet to be exhaled.
Li Yuan slowly opened his eyes. He did not speak, nor did he move.
The figure didn't move either. Simply stood there.
For a long time.
Until finally, a voice was heard.
"Are you... the one who left the old world?"
The voice sounded aged, yet light. It did not seem to come from the mouth, but rather whispered through the air between them.
Li Yuan remained silent. He did not answer with words. But his breath changed—slightly deeper, slightly heavier.
"I walk from the place unknown to the place yet to be understood," he replied softly.
The wind stopped.
Leaves were still.
And the figure took one step forward.
Ripples formed on the lake.
"Then we were destined to meet between the edge of understanding and the edge of reality."
"For what?" asked Li Yuan, finally gazing directly at the figure.
"To test whether your understanding is truly your own… or merely a shadow of the world that has already passed."
Li Yuan stood. He wasn't preparing to fight. But he was ready to understand.
This meeting at the lake's edge was not about power but about meaning.
Because on the path of understanding, someone will always appear—to test whether the road you travel is true, or merely a coincidence without roots.
And that night, the lake bore witness to two understandings staring into each other—through silence.