That night, Li Yuan sat under a shady willow tree, still savoring the warmth of his encounter with Grandma Cuihua. His newly formed Understanding of Memories felt like an old friend he'd just re-recognized—familiar, comfortable, but also full of unexplored possibilities.
He closed his eyes and let his consciousness flow into his Zhenjing. The thirteen mature understandings gently vibrated in harmony, while the young Understanding of Memories moved among them like a child finding its place in a family circle.
Nothing was forced. There was no urgency or ambition to speed up the process. Li Yuan had learned—through his three hundred and ten years of life—that understanding has its own rhythm. Sometimes it takes decades to mature, sometimes it happens in a single day, as it did today.
Understanding knows no calendar or deadline.
It just flows when the time is right.
In the silence of the night, Li Yuan felt the Understanding of Memories begin to transform. What was once just an internal vibration—memories of his father, his mother, Mu Yi, Fan Tu, everyone he had ever loved—began to shift into something broader.
Memories are not isolated personal possessions.
Memories are a bridge of time that connects all moments, all hearts, all lives that have ever touched each other.
Li Yuan opened his eyes when he felt a subtle shift in his Zhenjing. The Understanding of Memories was no longer just resonating within him—it began to touch a deeper, more universal meaning.
When someone remembers, they don't just recall events. They recall feelings. Smells. Sounds. Touches. The way light fell on a loved one's face. The way someone's laughter echoed in an empty room.
And in remembering, they reconnect with who they once were, who they are now, and who they can become.
The Understanding of Memories vibrated once, then slowly merged with the resonance of his Ganjing.
There was no explosion. No spiritual drama.
Just a quiet acceptance, like a river accepting a new tributary.
Li Yuan felt the change immediately. A three-meter radius around him now vibrated with a new frequency—a vibration that invited the past to speak to the present.
He stood and walked slowly, wanting to feel how the Understanding of Memories worked within the Realm of Ganjing.
He didn't have to wait long.
By the roadside, he saw a middle-aged man sitting on a rock, staring at the sky with a blank expression. When Li Yuan approached—still within the three-meter radius—the man suddenly sat up straight.
"Oh..." the man murmured softly, his eyes suddenly welling up. "Mother..."
Li Yuan stopped, observing from a distance. The man now closed his eyes, his hands clutching the fabric of his shirt to his chest. His face changed—from a blank expression to one of deep longing.
"Why did I never say thank you?" the man whispered. "Why did I always feel ashamed that she was just a vegetable seller at the market?"
Li Yuan felt a subtle vibration from the Understanding of Memories. The man was remembering his mother—not just her face, but the smell of her hands that smelled of kitchen spices, her hoarse voice from shouting to sell vegetables, the way she always set aside the best part of the food for her son.
A memory filled with regret, but also with a newly realized love.
The man opened his eyes, wiped away a tear, and stood up with a more upright posture. Something had changed in his body language—as if he had just remembered who he really was, who had shaped him into this person.
Li Yuan slowly stepped back, allowing the man to walk with a more meaningful stride, carrying a memory that had become a new strength.
Li Yuan continued to walk, observing the effect of the Understanding of Memories on people who unintentionally entered the radius of his Ganjing.
An old merchant who was tidying up his goods suddenly stopped, smiled, and mumbled about his son who used to love helping him arrange things. He packed his wares more carefully, as if there was still a small child watching him with sparkling eyes.
A young woman who was walking in a hurry suddenly slowed down. Her face turned sad, then peaceful. She took a ribbon out of her pocket—a frayed and faded ribbon—and kissed it softly. A memory of a deceased friend, perhaps. A memory that was both painful and healing.
A little boy who was angry after being scolded by his father suddenly remembered how his father used to teach him how to fish. His anger slowly turned into understanding, then into a longing to go home and apologize.
Everyone reacted differently to the memories that emerged. Some smiled. Some cried. Some looked confused for a moment before finally understanding.
But they all changed.
Memories made them remember their roots, their reasons, the love that shaped them.
Li Yuan stopped at a small park on the edge of town. There, he sat on a bench and felt the Understanding of Memories vibrate in harmony with his fourteen other understandings.
Water. Wrapping. Doubt. Existence. Breath. Sky. Body. Loss. Silence. Fear. Soul. Chaos Qi. Chaos. Memories.
Fourteen ways of understanding the world. Fourteen windows into something larger.
But tonight, Li Yuan was not thinking about searching for the 15th understanding or the next step in his journey. He just sat in tranquility, feeling how beautiful it was when the past was no longer a burden, but a bridge.
A bridge that connects who we once were with who we are now.
A bridge that reminds us that we are never truly alone, because the love we once received is still alive in every breath, every choice, every step we take.
The night wind blew gently, carrying the scent of blooming night flowers.
Li Yuan smiled.
For the first time in centuries, he felt truly alive in this moment—not searching for an unknown future, not trapped in a past that had passed.
Just living. Just breathing. Just being.
Maybe this is what the Oldest Breath means.
The breath that connects all time, all memories, all possibilities in one simple and eternal moment.
This moment.