Li Yuan opened his eyes.
The afternoon light slipped through the cracks of the window, dancing upon the dust suspended in the air.The sun in the west was no longer yellow—it had turned red.A quiet dusk, like the final exhale of a long day.
The library was empty.The students had gone home.No footsteps echoed, only the sound of falling leaves.
Li Yuan stood, his body light as freshly fallen dew.He felt no worry, no confusion.He smiled—a smile that needed no reason.Then he walked home.
Days passed again.Like water, like wind, like time that left no trace.
The students never spoke of that incident again.Of the tree that fell, of the power they could not understand.They returned to learning, to sitting, to listening, and writing.And Li Yuan returned to reading.
The next morning,he opened an old book once more.Its pages yellowed, its scent like an unfinished memory.A book rarely read, yet always waiting.He sat and read it as if for the first time he was learning to understand the world—in silence.
The seasons changed.
The first flower bloomed.Then came the rain, carrying the scent of wet earth.Leaves turned color, then fell gently to the ground.Snow arrived, covering everything in quiet white.
Four seasons passed—and without realizing it...a year had gone by.
The village was no longer quiet.Since he reconnected, people began arriving from all directions.Children with eyes full of curiosity.Adults carrying stories and unspoken wounds.They did not come for power.They came to understand.
Li Yuan watched all of it.He said nothing.He simply sat in the library…Reading, writing, and at times—smiling.
The village grew in silence.Like seeds never planted, yet still becoming a forest.
Rumors spread faster than the seasons.People came—uninvited, uncertain.Children with wide, wondering eyes; adults with burdens invisible to the eye.They all came, bringing hopes they hadn't yet named.
Ziran was no longer a village of farmers alone.New footpaths were born, foreign voices mingled with the old tongue,and the scent of cooking no longer came from a single family.
Li Yuan saw all this from a distance.He did not intervene, nor did he reject.He simply remained still—like the sky that lets the earth change,without needing to change itself.
And within his silence, Li Yuan began to realize something.Ever since he named his realm Ganjing—The Realm of Feeling—some things could no longer be hidden.
Daojing, his path, was not about power.But even without intent, something within him had touched the world.
He called it Passive Ganjing.
Not an attack.Not a defense.Just… presence.
And that presence alone brought change.
When he walked through a crowd,people instinctively stepped aside—not from fear,but because their hearts felt calm.
When he passed by a stray dog,it stopped barking, sat down, then yawned—as if it had found peace.
When he walked near a man who carried hatred,the man gripped his sword tighter,yet his hands trembled, as if cloaked in doubt unfamiliar to him.
Li Yuan intended nothing.But the world felt it.
That is the nature of Passive Ganjing:It cannot be turned on.It cannot be turned off.It is the echo of understanding—not of will.
The effect does not force.It does not attack.It does not change by pressure.It simply is.It touches, it influences, it flows like water.
Someone once asked him,"Do you possess power?"
Li Yuan only smiled.He looked to the sky, as if gazing upon an understanding not yet complete."Not power. I simply walk," he replied.
He did not explain that when he walked,the wind quieted, the dew settled faster,and the leaves refused to fall near his steps.
To most, it was only a feeling of comfort.To the sensitive, it was like standing at the border of two worlds—one silent, and one still unknown.
Li Yuan knew this was only the beginning.He had not yet entered the active realms.Yet even within Ganjing—the first realm—the path had already revealed that true understandingdoes not remain inside a person, but lives around them.
And he understood that the path he chosewould never truly remain hidden.For deep understanding always reflects light—even when its bearer chooses silence.
Li Yuan sat by the river.The water flowed gently, as if unhurried,as if the world had all the time it needed.
He stared at the calm surface.No great ripples, only a stream moving onward,circling stones, brushing roots, greeting shadows of fallen leaves.
"This heart," he whispered, "has touched something."
For days he had felt small changes around him.Noise no longer reached his ears.Steps slowed when they neared.Children laughed, then quieted, then sat, then fell asleep.
Birds chirped gently,and the wind came only to greet, not to disturb.
He did not mean for any of this to happen.He simply… was.
And when he existed within such stillness,something within him flowed—and the world flowed with him.
"Ganjing," he murmured."The Realm of Feeling.""And I… have felt water."
Water is not just an element.It is not a substance to be measured, stored, or wielded.
Water is meaning.
It flows not because it is told to—but because it understands.
It does not fight, yet always overcomes.It does not resist, yet carves through stone.
In Ganjing, Li Yuan realized that his understanding of water was not a concept—but a vibration of the soul, seeping outward.
He did not activate it.He didn't even realize it,until the world itself responded.
People came to the village,but around him, they slowed.No one shouted.No one questioned too loudly.
A dog that once barked now slept at his feet.
Water calms not because it wants to—but because it does not disturb.
In the outer world, battles are collisions of power.In Ganjing, emotion becomes the battlefield.And in that field—water flows, it does not push.
An enemy might raise their weapon—but their hands would hesitate.Their steps would slow under an unseen weight.Their mind would sink into peace that unsettles.
"You cannot fight with a peaceful heart,"Li Yuan whispered to himself.
He looked at his own hands.No energy. No technique.Yet the world around him had changed.
The river fell silent.The air went still.His heartbeat matched the rhythm of flowing water.
The radius could not be seen—but it could be felt.
The closer someone came,the slower their steps,the deeper their breath,and the further their will to fight would drift.
"I do not wish to calm you,"Li Yuan spoke softly, to whoever might approach."But the water within me… knows only one thing: to flow."
And so he sat again.Watching the water.Watching himself.
Flowing.Without resistance.