Li Yuan stepped out of the cave.
The sky above him had faded into a pale hue. Morning mist brushed his skin like dew that had forgotten to fall the night before. The stones remained cold. The earth stayed still. But within him, something had changed.
Not his realm.Not a new understanding.Not an ascension.
And yet—he felt light.
Calm.
Full.
He had not ascended a level.Nor had he discovered a meaning previously unthought.
But that day, for the first time, he smiled for no reason.
"Not every journey takes me upward," he whispered to the sky."Sometimes the journey takes me inward… then outward again—smaller, simpler, more like myself."
His steps were guided by neither map nor destination.He simply followed silence.
This forest, after so long, seemed unfamiliar—even though he had lived within it for one year of the outside world.
The trees stood tall and mute.The birds did not speak.The wind passed by—without sound, without greeting.
And Li Yuan felt at peace.
He asked himself, Which way do I go now?
There was no voice to answer.
But he did not expect one.
Step by step, he moved as water flows—seeking valleys,without intent,without force,only presence.
Days turned to weeks.Weeks became months.
In solitude that did not suffocate,Li Yuan walked.
Sometimes he slept beneath ancient trees,their roots like hands embracing the earth.
Sometimes he took shelter in small caves,speaking silently to stonesthat held the echo of stillness.
He fed himself with roots, mushrooms, and forest fruit.He drank from small, clear rivers—each drop tasting like the first breath of life.
For a full month, he did not see a single human being.
And he did not feel alone.
But on the thirty-first day,just as the sun had risen a handspan above the horizon,he saw smoke.
Thin, straight, rising softly.
Li Yuan paused.
Smoke was a sign—not of nature, not of beasts,but of people.
He didn't approach right away.
He listened first.
The wind carried the scent of burning wood.The sound of clinking metal.Footsteps.A short laugh.
Humans.
Li Yuan stepped forward slowly.
And at the edge of the forest,where the dirt path began to part the trees,he saw it:a simple wooden cart, pulled by an old horse.The wheels were dusty, marked by long travel.Beside it, a middle-aged man in worn clothes sat,blowing gently on a small bowl of steaming tea.
The man's gaze was sharp, but not suspicious.When he saw Li Yuan emerge from the trees,he merely raised an eyebrowand greeted him with a nod.
"You're no bandit,nor a hunter," the man said."But your steps are calm…like someone who's just walked out of another world."
Li Yuan gave a faint smile.
"Another world within."
"Ah, a wanderer," the man replied, sipping his tea."I like people like that.They don't ask much.They don't explain much."
Li Yuan sat across the small campfire.
They remained in silence for some timebefore the man spoke again.
"My name's Qin Hu.I'm a traveling merchant.I carry goods from small villages to the capital.Takes about a month,unless there's a landslide."
"The capital?" Li Yuan asked quietly.
"Yes. The capital of Qin.The Iron City.Many people go there—to trade, to study,or to try their luck.Are you interested in going?"
Li Yuan stared into the fire.Tiny lights danced in his pupils.A city.Crowds.Voices.Stone roads.People with goals.
Very different from the silent path he had walked so far.
Yet—his steps did not resist.
"My path doesn't yet know where to go," he admitted."Perhaps a city is one way to listen to the world."
Qin Hu chuckled.
"You speak strangely.But I've heard stranger.This world is full of people trying to understand."
"Not all are trying," Li Yuan replied."Some just wish to be."
Qin Hu paused, then stood up.
"Well then, you may come with me.But I'm no guide.I'm just passing through.The road—you must choose it yourself."
Li Yuan nodded.
He wasn't seeking a ride.He was seeking direction.
That night, under an open sky and silent stars,Li Yuan lay on a pile of old clothin the back of the wooden cart.
The scent of goods mixed with burning wood and damp earth.
He did not meditate.Did not shape understanding.
But his heart was open.Alert.Listening.
The forest had given him silence.
Perhaps the city would offer him its echo.