That morning, Li Yuan woke up with a strange sense of refreshment. Not because his consciousness body actually needed sleep, but because he was starting to enjoy the ritual of waking up itself—feeling the first rays of sunlight on his face, hearing the chirping of birds, stretching muscles that weren't really there.
He sat on the roadside, watching the world come to life. A farmer passed by with a cart of vegetables, nodding at him in a friendly way. A little boy ran after a butterfly, laughing when the butterfly landed on his nose. An old woman walked slowly with a wooden cane, stopping occasionally to pick wild flowers by the side of the road.
Simple life. Real life.
Li Yuan got up and decided to follow the flow of that life, not as a wise observer, but as a part of it.
At the morning market, Li Yuan bought bread from a middle-aged woman whose face was always smiling. When he approached, the woman suddenly stopped and looked at him with teary eyes.
"I'm sorry," the woman wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I was suddenly reminded of my mother. She also used to sell bread at a market like this."
Li Yuan smiled softly. The effect of the Understanding of Memories. "She must be proud to see you now."
"Yeah... maybe." The woman laughed softly. "Thank you for reminding me of her, even in a strange way."
Li Yuan accepted the bread with a warm heart. Even a simple interaction like this could be meaningful when people remember their roots.
That afternoon, Li Yuan sat under a tree in a small park, eating bread while observing the life around him. An old man was teaching his grandson how to play chess. A young couple sat on a bench, whispering with flushed faces. A mother was feeding her toddler.
Small moments that wouldn't make it into history books, but which made life feel meaningful.
"Sir, may I sit here?"
Li Yuan turned. A young man with a tired face was standing next to him, pointing to the empty grass beside Li Yuan.
"Of course."
The man sat down with a long sigh. "It's been an exhausting day," he murmured.
"Heavy work?"
"Not that." The man looked at the sky. "I just had a fight with my father. Again. About the same old thing."
Li Yuan said nothing, just listened. He had learned that sometimes a silent presence is more helpful than smart advice.
"I want to be a writer," the man continued. "But my father wants me to take over his grocery store. He says writing won't feed a family."
The man fell silent for a moment, then his face changed. His eyes welled up, as if remembering something.
"But... he once said he was proud of me when I won a writing competition at school. I had forgotten that." His voice softened. "Maybe he's not really against my dream. Maybe he's just afraid I won't be able to live a decent life."
Li Yuan smiled faintly. The Understanding of Memories was at work again, helping the man recall the fuller context, not just the painful part.
"Maybe you can talk to him again," Li Yuan said softly. "With the knowledge that his worries are born out of love."
The man nodded slowly. "Yeah... maybe that's a good idea." He stood up and bowed politely. "Thank you, sir. For some reason, sitting here made me remember things I had long forgotten."
After the man left, Li Yuan stayed there, feeling the simple satisfaction of being able to help someone without giving grand advice.
That afternoon, Li Yuan walked aimlessly on the busy streets. He stopped in front of a tea shop, deciding to go in and feel the atmosphere of the crowd.
Inside the shop, a few old men were playing chess while drinking tea. Some merchants were discussing the prices of goods. In a corner, a man sat alone, staring at his teacup with a gloomy face.
Li Yuan ordered tea and sat not far from the man. Unbeknownst to him, the three-meter radius of his Ganjing touched the man.
The man suddenly raised his head, his eyes widening. "Ning... Xiao Ning..."
Tears began to flow down his cheeks. He took a small locket from his pocket, opened it, and looked at the photo inside with an expression that was a mixture of sadness and happiness.
"I'm sorry, my child," he whispered to the photo. "I didn't mean to drive you away that time. I just... just didn't know how to handle my own anger."
Li Yuan realized that the man was remembering his daughter. Maybe they had a fight and hadn't spoken for a long time. The Understanding of Memories helped the man remember the beautiful moments with his child, not just their last fight.
The man stood up with a sudden, determined movement, paid for his tea, and rushed out. Perhaps to go home and try to fix things with his daughter.
Li Yuan smiled. He didn't have to do anything but sit and let the understanding work naturally.
That night, Li Yuan sat by a small river on the outskirts of the town. The water flowed slowly with a calming sound. A few fishermen were still fishing on the bank, occasionally laughing when someone caught a fish.
Li Yuan felt a deep peace. There was no great enlightenment or thunderous spiritual discovery today. Just a day spent as an ordinary human among other ordinary humans.
But maybe that was what he needed after centuries of searching for something higher. Sometimes the most meaningful things are the simplest.
He saw the reflection of the moon in the slowly moving water, broken by small ripples every time a fish jumped. Beautiful in its simplicity.
"Tomorrow," he murmured softly, "I'll wake up again. Eat bread again. Talk to people again. And that's enough."
The night wind blew gently, carrying the scent of water and wet earth.
Li Yuan closed his eyes, not to meditate or search for new understanding, but simply to enjoy the sound of flowing water and the laughter of the fishermen in the distance.
A simple life.
A life that was enough.
A real life.