Li Yuan "closed his eyes."
Even though he no longer had eyes. Even though the concept of eyes no longer applied to his form as a pure soul.
But awareness can choose not to see, even without eyelids.
A soul can choose to turn away from the outer world, even without a head to turn.
And Li Yuan chose… to turn away.
Away from a world full of screams, blood, and questions without answers.
Away from the people calling for him, searching for him, needing him.
Away from the responsibility of being a spring for the thirsty.
Enough, he thought, with a weariness he had never known before. I have given enough.
My body is gone. My identity nearly lost. My understandings nearly became tyranny.
It is time… to rest.
Li Yuan "sat."
Even without a body to sit. Even without ground to sit upon.
A pure soul sat in the concept of sitting—a state of rest, a state of stillness, a state of turning away from outward activity.
Where his body had completely vanished, a space formed.
Not a physical space the eye could see.
A space within the inner world.
A space of understanding.
A space that existed solely because Li Yuan's soul chose to have space.
A private Zhenjing.
An inner world separate from the outer world.
Where time flowed according to the will of the soul, not the will of nature.
Where understanding could come without force, without hurry, without outside pressure.
In that unseen soul-space, Li Yuan let time flow at a different rhythm.
One day in the outer world—
but within his Zhenjing, time moved as he wished.
Sometimes slow as honey.
Sometimes quick as lightning.
Sometimes stopping altogether, letting silence fill every corner of awareness.
And in that long silence, something began to stir.
Not from outside. From within.
A new understanding.
An understanding not sought, not forced, not chased.
An understanding that came on its own, like a guest knocking softly at the door.
The Understanding of Soul.
Soul, Li Yuan felt the new meaning flow gently into his awareness. The core of all that lives.
Not the body, not the mind, not the emotions.
But something more fundamental.
Something that makes every being… unique.
This understanding was unlike the ten others.
Water could be understood by watching a river.
Silence could be understood by listening to stillness.
Existence could be understood by contemplating being.
But Soul…
Soul can only be understood by being a pure soul.
By letting go of everything that is not soul—body, form, physical identity—and feeling what remains.
The core of awareness that cannot be destroyed.
An identity that depends on nothing external.
A uniqueness that cannot be replicated.
In his Zhenjing, Li Yuan let time continue to flow.
Ten years passed in the outer world—
but for Li Yuan, it felt like an instant and an eternity at once.
He sat in silence untouched by anything from the physical world.
Unconcerned whether there was still war.
Unconcerned whether people still needed him.
Unconcerned whether the world fell apart or became paradise.
For the first time in his long life, Li Yuan was truly… selfish.
He chose himself.
Chose the understanding of himself.
Chose the needs of his soul over the needs of the world.
And strangely, in this selfishness, he found something he had long lost:
Himself.
The true Li Yuan.
Not the Li Yuan who always flowed for others.
Not the Li Yuan who was always the spring for the thirsty.
But the Li Yuan who… simply wanted to exist for himself.
The Understanding of Soul deepened.
Li Yuan began to feel what he had never before noticed:
Every being has a soul with a unique "resonance."
Like a sound no ear can hear, yet another soul can feel.
Like a color no eye can see, yet awareness can sense.
Like a scent no nose can detect, yet identity can recognize.
This is what soul means, Li Yuan realized in awe. Not something you have.
Something you… are.
I do not have a soul.
I am a soul.
And every soul is unique, irreplaceable, unrepeatable.
Even if the body is destroyed, even if the name is forgotten, even if all physical traces are gone…
The soul remains… the soul.
Unique. Eternal. Irreplaceable.
In that long solitude, Li Yuan also discovered something that made him a little… sad.
All this time, he had been so focused on giving, on serving, on being a spring for others…
That he had forgotten who he was when he wasn't giving.
Who is Li Yuan when he isn't healing?
Who is Li Yuan when he isn't a mirror for others?
Who is Li Yuan when he isn't flowing for the thirsty?
Who am I… for myself?
And in that question, he found a surprising answer:
I don't know.
All this time, I have only known who I am in relation to others.
Li Yuan the helper.
Li Yuan the healer.
Li Yuan the one who understands.
But Li Yuan who… simply wants to exist?
Li Yuan who wants to give nothing to anyone?
Li Yuan who just wants… to be?
I don't know him.
Ten years passed.
And the Understanding of Soul resonated more deeply within him.
Li Yuan began to sense every soul within the radius of his Ganjing—
though he no longer cared for the outer world, the passive effect still worked.
But now, he sensed them differently.
Not as people in need of help.
Not as souls to be healed or guided.
But as… pure uniqueness.
Each soul was a unique echo. A vibration that could not be replicated. A color of meaning that could not be imitated.
The soul of a soldier weary of war—its resonance like slow-beating metal, cold but not dead, hard yet fragile within.
The soul of a child who had lost their parents—its color like flickering light, warm yet unstable, bright yet afraid to go out.
The soul of a mother waiting for her child to return—its scent like earth after rain, fertile and full of hope, yet damp with worry.
They are all… beautiful, Li Yuan realized in awe. Not because they are good or bad.
But because they… are unique.
Because there is no other soul exactly like them.
Because their existence is a miracle that cannot be repeated.
And slowly, something began to change within Li Yuan.
Not the desire to help—he had long since let that die.
Not the sense of duty to heal—he had let that go.
But… appreciation.
Awe.
Gratitude for being able to feel the uniqueness of each soul.
Not because he wanted to change them.
Not because he wanted to heal them.
But simply because… they exist.
Because they are unique.
Because their existence is an immeasurable gift.
Perhaps, Li Yuan thought after ten years of solitude, this is what true love means.
Not wanting to change.
Not wanting to heal.
Not wanting to give anything.
But simply… appreciating existence.
Being grateful that they are here.
Marveling at their uniqueness.
Without any desire to change a thing.
And for the first time in ten years, Li Yuan felt… full.
Not full from giving.
But full from receiving—receiving the beauty of simply… witnessing unique souls.
The Understanding of Soul was finally complete.
And Li Yuan knew it was time to "open his eyes" again.
Not to give.
Not to heal.
But to… appreciate.
To be a witness to the miracle of each soul's existence.
With no desire to change anything.
Only… gratitude that they are here.