After the crowd dispersed and the farmer left with several soldiers to look for his younger brother, Commander Chen approached Li Yuan.
"May I have a word?" he asked.
They walked to the edge of the square, far from curious ears.
"Li Yuan," Commander Chen said, "I almost made a serious mistake just now."
"Mistake?"
"I nearly punished an innocent man because I was too suspicious." Commander Chen looked down at his hands. "Lately, I've become… too harsh. Too alert. I see enemies everywhere."
Li Yuan listened without judgment.
"But when you came," Commander Chen continued, "for some reason, I was able to think more clearly. To see the situation with… calm."
"Commander Chen," Li Yuan asked, "may I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Are you afraid the war is coming?"
Commander Chen was silent for a long moment. "Afraid? Soldiers must not be afraid."
"But humans may be afraid."
That sentence made Commander Chen look at Li Yuan differently. "You speak like… someone who understands the burden of a soldier."
"I understand the burden of someone who must protect others from a danger that may come at any time, without warning."
"Yes… that is the hardest part. Not knowing when, not knowing from where, but having to be ready at every moment." Commander Chen sighed. "And the pressure has made me what you saw earlier—suspicious of everyone."
"But suspicion is natural," Li Yuan replied. "The important thing is that suspicion does not make us lose our ability to see another person's humanity."
"What do you mean?"
"Like just now—you were still suspicious, but you were willing to listen to the farmer's explanation. You remained vigilant, but you did not punish without evidence."
Commander Chen nodded slowly. "You're right. I almost forgot that my duty is not only to protect from enemies, but also to protect the innocent."
"And that is a far harder duty."
"Why?"
"Because it is easy to see everyone as a threat. What's hard is to keep seeing them as human."
They stood in silence for a moment, watching Yangzhou as the afternoon shadows lengthened.
"Li Yuan," Commander Chen said at last, "I don't know who you really are. But I feel… fortunate to have met you today."
"Why?"
"Because you reminded me of something I had almost forgotten."
"What is that?"
"That being a good soldier does not mean being hard on everyone. It means being hard on yourself so you can stay gentle toward those who need protection."
Li Yuan smiled. "You are a good soldier, Commander Chen. You just need a reminder every now and then."
When they parted, Commander Chen said, "Li Yuan, if things get worse and you need protection, come to our barracks on West Street. Just give them my name."
"Thank you. But I think I'll be fine."
"Are you sure? A month from now, things may be far more dangerous."
Li Yuan looked toward the horizon, to the north, where the shadow of war drew closer. "Perhaps. But there will be people who need protection far more than I do. Focus on them."
Commander Chen followed his gaze. "You're right. There will be many innocent people caught in the middle of all this."
"And they're lucky to have soldiers like you who still remember that the duty of a soldier is to protect, not to intimidate."
Li Yuan walked back to the field clinic as the sky began to darken.
His meeting with Commander Chen and his men reminded him of something important: even those trained for war are still human. They too feel fear, anxiety, and the pull to lose their way when the pressure grows too great.
This is why water must keep flowing, Li Yuan reflected. Not only for the weak or wounded. But also for those who must be strong, who bear great responsibility, and who cannot show their fear.
At the clinic, Doctor Huang greeted him with a curious look.
"Li Yuan, some soldiers were asking about you earlier."
"Soldiers?"
"Yes. They said there was an incident at the east square, and your name came up. Nothing serious, I hope?"
Li Yuan smiled. "No trouble. Quite the opposite, actually."
That night, Li Yuan sat on the back porch of the clinic, gazing up at the star-filled sky above Yangzhou.
The Eleven Understandings in his Ganjing resonated softly, their harmony growing ever more refined. Every interaction like today's—whether with Commander Chen, the frightened farmer, or the tense soldiers—was a chance to see how these understandings worked in the real world.
Not always dramatic. Not always producing instant results. But always leaving an impact—no matter how small—on the way people see the world and one another.
One month from now, Li Yuan thought, recalling Commander Chen's words.
One month before the war truly begins. One month to… do what? Prepare? Help as many as possible? Or simply be present, as he always had?
He did not yet know for sure. But he knew one thing: the water would keep flowing to where it was most needed.
Even if that place was a battlefield.
Even if those in need were the very people meant to protect, but who also needed protection themselves.
Water does not choose. Water simply flows.
And Li Yuan—who understood more and more what it meant to be part of that flow—was ready to go wherever he was needed.
At the West Street barracks, Commander Chen was writing his nightly report.
Usually, it was filled with lists of suspicions, potential threats, and recommendations for harsh measures. Tonight, for the first time in months, it also contained notes about civilians who had been helped, situations defused through diplomacy, and the importance of balancing vigilance with humanity.
Without realizing it, Li Yuan had changed the way Commander Chen saw his duty.
From protecting by instilling fear, to protecting by preserving humanity.
The water had flowed to the right place.
And its ripples would spread far beyond a single meeting in a small square in Yangzhou.