When the Mirror Shattered
Dawn had not yet arrived, but the battlefield did not sleep.
The fire of war now burned with an intensity beyond reason.
It was no longer about victory or defeat
it was about who would remain when the ashes settled.
Li Yuan stood in the midst of chaos that had lost all shape.
Screams no longer carried words.
Blood no longer had a clear source—it flowed from everywhere, to everywhere.
The ten understandings within his Ganjing quivered like water in a bowl shaken by an earthquake.
Ever since he had opened the Existence understanding yesterday, something had changed.
The bindings around the others had begun to loosen.
Like a dam cracked in one place
the fractures were spreading.
Water held back too long will find a way out, he thought with a new unease.
Even if it means destroying the dam itself.
From the east, a wave of killing intent approached.
Not one person—dozens.
High-ranking commanders from both sides, who had lost everything except their ability to destroy.
Li Yuan recognized some of them.
General Zhao of Qin—who could break an enemy formation with a single movement.
Commander Wei of Lu—who could split stone with his breath.
They had not come to fight each other.
They had come for Li Yuan.
"He's the cause of this!" one shouted.
"Since he came, our soldiers have begun to hesitate!"
"Kill the source of the problem!"
"Remove the meddler!"
Li Yuan watched them advance like a flood of darkness.
Still water creates a clear reflection, he thought.
But what happens when people don't want to see the reflection?
They break the mirror.
The attack came all at once.
There was no honor in this battle. No rules.
Only the pure desire to erase what disturbed the comfort of their darkness.
General Zhao leapt from the north, his spinning fist forming a vortex of air that could tear metal apart.
Commander Wei struck from the south, his stomps fracturing the earth for dozens of meters.
Others came from every direction—west, east, above—
like a storm closing in from all points of the compass.
Li Yuan stood at the center.
He did not move.
He did not evade.
He did not strike back.
But within his Ganjing, the ten understandings shook harder and harder.
The bindings began to tear.
Silence wanted to scream.
Water wanted to become a tsunami.
Doubt wanted to turn into pure fear.
Breath wanted to become a hurricane.
And Li Yuan felt something he had never felt before.
Temptation.
The temptation to release everything at once.
To let all ten understandings burst forth without restraint—
to show the world what it meant to see an unwrapped mirror.
How many would die if I let them see who they truly are?
How many would go mad, unable to face the truth?
But how many will keep killing if I do nothing?
The first strike landed.
Not on Li Yuan's body—
but on the Ganjing's circle around him.
Like a stone thrown into still water, it sent ripples outward.
And in those ripples, the attackers caught glimpses of themselves.
General Zhao saw a boy who had once dreamed of being a protector of peace, not a bringer of ruin.
Commander Wei saw a father who had once sworn to protect his family, not destroy the families of others.
The others saw who they had been before war turned them into killing machines.
But this time, they did not stop.
This time, they shut their eyes.
"I don't care who I was!" Zhao roared, his blows growing heavier.
"What matters is who I am now!"
"Illusions won't stop reality!" Wei shouted, his attacks unrelenting.
They struck not despite seeing their reflection—
but because they had seen it.
Because it reminded them of what they had lost.
Because the mirror showed them how far they had fallen.
And instead of climbing back up, they chose to shatter the mirror.
Something cracked inside Li Yuan.
Not his ribs—
something deeper.
Conviction.
The conviction that everyone, somewhere within themselves, still held light.
The conviction that a mirror could always show the way back.
The conviction that water could always cleanse, no matter how dirty what it touched.
But what if some choose to stay dirty?
What if there is water that refuses to be cleansed?
What if a shattered mirror cannot be pieced together again?
The second strike came.
Harder. More desperate.
These commanders did not just want to kill Li Yuan—
they wanted to destroy what he represented.
The possibility that they could be different.
The possibility that choice still existed.
The possibility that it was not too late to change.
The bindings around the ten understandings tore wider.
Existence had already been opened yesterday.
Silence was beginning to seep out.
Water longed to flow without limit.
And for the first time in his life, Li Yuan felt fear.
Not the fear of dying—
but the fear of living without control.
The fear of being a mirror too bright, blinding instead of illuminating.
The fear of being water too strong, drowning instead of healing.
From the distance, another sound rose.
A different kind of shout. Not the cry of war—
a cry of… gratitude?
Li Yuan glanced toward it.
The boy he had saved yesterday stood beside his father, watching from afar.
Around them, dozens—perhaps hundreds—of people Li Yuan had helped over the past three days.
Soldiers whose wounds he had healed.
Commanders who had once seen their reflection in his eyes.
Those who had drunk from the small spring in the desert of war.
They had not come to attack.
They had come to… protect?
"Don't hurt him!" the boy shouted, voice still trembling. "He saved me!"
"He gave us water when we were thirsty!" another cried.
"He showed us who we truly are!"
Li Yuan felt something strange.
On one side, commanders who wanted to destroy him for the mirror he showed them.
On the other, people who wanted to protect him for the very same mirror.
The same mirror can be a blessing or a curse, he thought.
It depends on who looks… and what they choose to do with the reflection.
A battle erupted.
No longer Li Yuan versus the commanders—
but those who chose to look at the mirror versus those who chose to break it.
Clear water against water gone murky.
Light that chose to shine against darkness that chose to blind.
Li Yuan stood in the center, like the eye of the storm.
The ten understandings shook with an intensity never felt before.
Bindings torn in every place.
Silence leaked, creating a zone of calm around those protecting him.
Doubt seeped, making attackers question their choices.
Water flowed gently, healing new wounds as they formed.
But Li Yuan still held back.
Still wrapped what he could.
Because he knew—
if all ten understandings opened at once, nothing would remain.
Not those who chose to see,
nor those who chose to shatter.
"Enough!" roared General Zhao, now striking not just at Li Yuan, but at anyone shielding him.
His blow aimed for the young soldier standing before Li Yuan—
the boy from yesterday.
The boy could not dodge. Not fast enough. The strike would kill him.
And in that instant, Li Yuan decided.
He stepped forward.
Letting his body take the blow meant for the boy.
And at the moment of impact—
All the bindings broke at once.
The ten understandings burst out like a dam exploding.
Water became an ocean engulfing the battlefield.
Silence became a deafening stillness.
Existence became light flooding every corner of the soul.
Doubt became questions tearing apart false certainties.
Breath became wind carrying change.
Sky became boundless space.
Body became complete healing.
Loss became an embrace that let go.
Fear became a mirror showing the truth.
Wrapping became protection for those unready to see.
And within a kilometer, everyone—without exception—saw.
Saw who they truly were.
Saw every choice they had made.
Saw every consequence of their actions.
Saw every possibility of who they could still become.
Those unready collapsed, weeping.
Those ready stood, understanding.
Those who still chose to break the mirror went mad.
Those who accepted the reflection became… human again.
General Zhao froze, his hand still raised to strike, his eyes empty—
not with darkness, but with light too bright to hold.
Commander Wei fell, trembling, whispering,
"What have I done… what have I done…"
Li Yuan lay on the ground, blood spilling from his mouth.
Zhao's blow had struck him full in the chest, shattering his ribs.
But he smiled.
Because the boy he had protected was still alive.
Because the mirror was not broken—only too bright for a moment.
Because water still flowed, even if its vessel was cracked.
This is what happens when a spring gives all its water at once, he thought, as consciousness began to fade.
It saves the thirsty… but it runs dry itself.
But a true spring never truly dries.
It only… rests.
Before it flows again.
And with that thought, Li Yuan closed his eyes.
Around him, the battlefield had changed.
Not because someone had won or lost.
But because, for the first time in four days, everyone saw clearly who they were.
And most did not like what they saw.
But at least… they saw.
And seeing is the first step to change.