The village was no longer small.
Once, only a little more than a hundred souls lived on the quiet slopes.Children played by the small stream,the songs of birds blended with the breath of the earth,and the name "Ziran" was but a whisper forgotten by time.
But now, the number had reached three hundred.Three hundred hearts, three hundred different steps,three hundred stories slowly woven into the same soil.
They came from distant places,carrying curiosity, hope, and wounds.
Rumors spread like gentle mist—of a village north of the mountainswhere one could live without being asked their name,and learn without a price.
The rumors spoke of writings not made with ink,of a library that stored the roots of the soul,of a young man who did not teach power,but understanding.
A Path Without Promise
At first, people did not believe.
But when a family returned from Ziran with calmer faces,when a merchant suddenly left the market to bring his child there,when a former academy student chose stillness over noisy knowledge—then people began to walk.
They came. Slowly.In weeks, in months, in years.
Not for power.But out of curiosity…and a longing for silence.
Li Yuan watched it all unfoldnot as a leader,for he never claimed to be one.
He simply sat on the porch,reading blank pages,and sometimes… spoke.
But people felt something.
The silence around him was different.Not empty, but full.
Like approaching a deep lakeyou cannot see the bottom,but you know it is not to be entered lightly.
The Library of Rooted Souls
The Library of Rooted Souls never asked for payment.There were no guards.No time limits on reading.
Not all the books held words.Some were filled with blank pages.
Yet many sat for hours before them,crying…or laughing…or simply silent.
Li Yuan once said:
"A blank page is not where you look for answers.It's where the answers within you… begin to listen to themselves."
And that—was what they found.
Learning to Listen Again
The elders in the village learned as well.Not how to read—many had long forgotten howbut how to listen to life again.
They sat with children,not to teach,but to share the same silence.
One mother once said:
"I used to think my children needed to hear my words.Now… I only want to hear their breath."
Nothing Was Asked, Yet All Was Given
Ziran asked nothing from those who came.Yet those who stayed… began to give.
They built new homes with their own hands.They expanded the fields,planted fruit trees along the paths.
Former traders brought food and tools.They didn't sellthey shared.
And strangely, money never became a problem.
Those who had, gave more.Those who didn't, still ate.Still learned.Still lived.
Someone once asked, "How is this possible?"
A young man answered:
"Because we didn't come here to take.We came so that something within us… would not be lost."
Wrapped Emotions, Not Denied
With more souls came more emotionscuriosity, confusion,fear of change.
But Ziran did not grow by rejecting these.
It grew by wrapping them.
That meaning slowly spread from Li Yuan.He didn't speak much,but the world around him muffled noise.
Anger became calm.Children's laughter softened into quiet joy.Arguments faded before they could take form.
Ganjing, Beyond Cultivators
The Realm of Ganjing was not just for cultivators.
When a person lived long enough within meaningful silence,they began to feel.
And when enough people began to feel,the village responded.
Where growth usually brings noise,Ziran grew more silent.
New houses rose—but hammers sounded like poetry.
Children learned to walk—but their falls brought no cries.
Songs weren't sung aloud—they were feltin how people planted flowers,swept the streets,or brewed tea.
Becoming, Not Teaching
Li Yuan saw it all in silence.
He didn't teach how to wrap.
He simply became.
And in his being,people began to touch meanings never spoken.
An old man who had arrived two months ago once said:
"I used to live chasing.But here, I learned to wait."
"What are you waiting for?" asked a child.
The old man smiled.
"I'm waiting for myself to stop running."
Growth Without Price
This was the quiet miracle of Ziran—
Growth without cost.Increase without loss.
Not because there were no challenges,but because challenges weren't met with reaction,but with understanding.
Outsiders didn't understand.
Some said it was a new cult.Others, a failed experiment.
But those who had once stayed knew one thing:
"In Ziran, we don't become someone else.We become closer… to what was hidden within."
Three hundred souls is no small number.
Three hundred meant new voices, new stories,and the possibility of new conflicts.
But the silence surrounding the village had become a container.
Not a fortress.It did not reject.
It wrapped—like a mother's hand,not denying the tears,but also not letting them spread to every child.
Silence as Welcome
That day, Li Yuan walked along the edge of the village.
The sky was gentle.The air carried the scent of soil.
He was not searching.Not lost in deep thought.
From afar, a child ran toward himthen stopped.
The child looked up, eyes wide."Teacher…"
Li Yuan nodded slightly. "Yes?"
The child did not ask a question.Did not complain.He simply stood still.
A few seconds passed, and he said:
"I don't know what I want to ask.But I feel like… I want to be quiet here."
Li Yuan nodded.
"Sometimes…the answer can only be heardwhen we stop searching for the question."
The child sat.Li Yuan sat.
They sat together, wordless.
The wind passed them byas if passing two stonesthat no longer wished to move.
And behind them,the village grew.
Without sound.Without force.Without price.