Dawn broke with a thin mist blanketing Harmony Alley, as if the sky itself were breathing with caution. Li Yuan—Li Qingshan—stood in his doorway, feeling a subtle tremor in his Zhenjing that told him today would be an important day, though he didn't yet know in what way.
The Understanding of Existence vibrates with a different frequency than yesterday, he observed, inhaling the cool morning air. Not the tension of yesterday's anxiety, but... a crystallized determination. The community has made its choice.
The sound of familiar footsteps made him turn. Sister Lin was awake earlier than usual, walking toward her house with a firm but unhurried stride.
"Qingshan," she called out, her voice brighter than Li Yuan had expected after their serious discussion yesterday. "Ready for a busy day?"
"Busy with what?"
Sister Lin smiled—a smile Li Yuan recognized as coming from someone who had found clarity after confusion. "Madam Wang has been up since dawn, preparing a list of all the remedies we can make with ingredients available at the market. Chen Wei has started organizing a schedule to clean the communal well. And Granny Zhou…" Sister Lin chuckled softly, "Granny Zhou says she's too old to be afraid of something that might never come, so it's better to be busy doing something useful."
This, Li Yuan felt a warmth spread in his chest, is how a healthy community responds to a crisis. Not by surrendering to fear, but by transforming fear into constructive action.
"What do you need me to do?"
"Madam Wang asked you to come to her house after breakfast. She said you talked about simple remedies yesterday—she wants to know more details."
Madam Wang's house was at the end of the alley, with a small courtyard filled with meticulously cared-for medicinal plants. As Li Yuan approached, he could smell a familiar mix of ginger, turmeric, and various other herbs, though he couldn't fully identify them with the identity of Li Qingshan.
But with the Understanding of the Body, a tightly wrapped part of him whispered, I can feel the energy of each of these plants, how they resonate with the human body, how they can be combined to create an effect that is more than the sum of its parts.
"Qingshan!" Madam Wang greeted him from the door, wearing an apron stained green with plant extracts. "Come in, come in. I've prepared some tea."
The main room of Madam Wang's house had been transformed into a kind of herbal workshop. Wooden tables were covered with small bowls containing various kinds of dried leaves, roots, and flowers. There was a simple scale, a stone mortar and pestle, and several clay pots for boiling.
Like a primitive alchemical laboratory, Li Yuan observed with appreciation. But what's being done here is as old as civilization—using what nature provides to heal what ails the human body.
"Yesterday you mentioned simple remedies," Madam Wang got straight to the point while pouring tea. "Ones that ordinary people can make without special expertise, but are still useful for... for a situation like this."
Li Yuan sat on the provided wooden chair, a familiar moment dawning on him—how to impart knowledge that came from spiritual understanding without revealing its source.
"I once... learned from an old physician on my travels," he began carefully. Not a complete lie—I did learn from many, though mostly without them knowing, and 'old physician' could refer to the ancient understandings I developed myself.
"He taught that the human body has a natural ability to heal itself. The job of herbal remedies isn't to replace that ability, but to... support it."
Madam Wang nodded in agreement. "That's a good philosophy. Continue."
"For a situation like this—where we need to prepare the body to fight off potential illnesses—three things are most important." Li Yuan felt the Understanding of the Body gently vibrate, giving him guidance that he translated into understandable words.
"The first is to cleanse. To help the body expel toxins and unnecessary things. The second is to strengthen. To give the body the energy and nutrients it needs to function optimally. The third is to protect. To create a kind of... natural barrier against harmful things."
"And how do we do that?"
Li Yuan stood and approached the table filled with herbs. His Understanding of the Body resonated with the various plants, telling him which combinations would work in harmony.
"For cleansing," he took a handful of leaves he recognized as wild mint, "something that can help digestion and make it easier for the body to expel what is not needed. This mint, when boiled with ginger…" he picked up a few sliced pieces of ginger root, "will help the body sweat healthily and clear the respiratory tract."
Madam Wang took careful notes, occasionally asking about measurements and preparation methods.
"To strengthen," Li Yuan continued, selecting some goji berries and a few small slices of ginseng, "we need something that provides long-lasting energy, not a quick burst that fades. These goji berries can be boiled into a light soup, with a little honey added…"
Inside me, I felt an impulse to use the Understanding of the Veil—not to conceal something, but to... 'envelop' success. To ensure that these remedies would work a little better than they should, in a subtle way.
But how? And is that ethical?
The questions lingered in his mind as he went on to explain the third herbal combination—a mix of green tea leaves, chrysanthemum flowers, and a bit of dried orange peel to "protect."
"And the last one," he said, showing the mixture, "is to be drunk as a simple tea, but regularly. Not to cure an existing disease, but to make the body... more ready if something tries to attack."
Madam Wang tried a taste of the tea she made according to Li Yuan's instructions. Her eyes lit up. "This... this tastes good. Not like medicine at all."
"That's what's most important," Li Yuan smiled. "If it tastes too bitter or unpleasant, people won't drink it regularly. And consistency is more important than potency."
Now, he decided, is the time for a careful experiment.
While Madam Wang was busy noting down the recipes and trying to remember the right proportions, Li Yuan slowly allowed his Understanding of the Veil to flow out—not to obscure or hide, but to... embrace. To envelop their good intentions, their caution, their love for the community, and gently tie it all to the remedies they were preparing.
Not a dramatic power, he held back. Just... a subtle blessing. Like a prayer made real.
The effect wasn't visible, but Li Yuan could feel how the resonance between the herbs and the intention to heal became a little more... harmonious. Like a good orchestra where suddenly all the instruments fall perfectly into sync.
"Qingshan," Madam Wang stopped writing and looked at him with a strange expression, "there's something... different about these remedies. I can't explain what it is, but they feel... more... complete than the ones I usually make."
Li Yuan felt a small moment of panic. Was it too obvious?
"Perhaps," he said carefully, "it's because we're making them with... with a more focused intention than usual. The old physician who taught me said that the state of mind of the remedy maker can affect the quality of the final product."
Not a complete lie, he reassured himself. That is indeed true—intention and attention affect everything we do. I just... amplified what was already naturally there.
Madam Wang nodded slowly. "That makes sense. It's like cooking—food made with love really does taste different."
That afternoon, Madam Wang's house became a center of productive activity. Sister Lin came with a few other neighbors who wanted to learn how to make the remedies. Chen Wei showed up with extra firewood for boiling in large quantities. Even some children came to help by washing bowls and sorting herbs.
Li Yuan found himself in a position that was... unfamiliar yet enjoyable. He wasn't a teacher in the formal sense—Madam Wang remained the one leading the workshop and giving the main instructions. But he became a kind of... experienced consultant, someone who could answer specific questions and give practical tips.
This is a kind of leadership I never learned in three hundred years of spiritual seeking, he reflected while helping Granny Zhou grind ginger root with the mortar. Leadership through service, not authority. Through contribution, not domination.
"Master Qingshan," Chen Daming—Chen Wei's young son—approached with a bowl of a strange-colored herbal mixture, "is this right?"
Li Yuan looked at the contents of the bowl and almost laughed. The boy seemed to have mixed every kind of herb available, creating something that looked like unappetizing green-brown sludge.
"Hmm," he said seriously, "this is a creative experiment. But perhaps we need to make a few adjustments..."
Patiently, he helped the boy separate the mixture and explained why some herbs shouldn't be mixed—not because they were dangerous, but because the taste would be so terrible that no one would want to drink it.
Teaching children, he realized, is another form of cultivation. They absorb not only the information I give, but also the way I give it—patience, kindness, respect for their curiosity.
As the afternoon wore on, they had produced enough remedies to supply the entire alley for weeks. Not only that, but a few neighbors from other alleys who heard about the activity also came to learn and share their own knowledge.
What's happening here, Li Yuan observed, watching people share recipes and tips enthusiastically, is more than just preparation for a plague. It is... community building through a shared purpose. They aren't just preparing medicines, but also strengthening the bonds between them.
"Qingshan," Sister Lin approached, wiping her hands on her apron, "I want to ask you something."
"Yes?"
"Yesterday, at the meeting in the House of Words, you talked about... about not closing our doors to people who might come from affected areas." Sister Lin looked at him with a thoughtful expression. "I'm still thinking about that. And I wonder... have you thought about how? Practically, I mean."
Li Yuan felt that this was an important question—not just for Sister Lin, but for the entire community. How would they translate a principle of compassion into concrete action?
"I have been thinking about it," he admitted. "And I think... maybe we need to set up a special place. A place where people coming from outside can rest, get food and water, and... have their health checked before entering the city."
"Like... a checkpoint?"
"More like... a temporary reception point. With basic facilities and people who can provide first aid if needed."
Sister Lin nodded slowly. "And if they turn out to be sick?"
"Then we treat them. Carefully, with protection for ourselves, but we treat them." Li Yuan felt the echo of all his understandings—Water that flows to where it's needed most, Existence that values every soul. "Because that is what keeps us human, even in a crisis."
Inside the Zhenjing, I felt a resonance of approval from my fourteen understandings—not because I gave a powerful or wise answer, but because I gave an answer that was both compassionate and practical.
"Where can we set up a place like that?"
"There's an old warehouse at the edge of the city, near the main road from Yunshan," Li Yuan replied after a moment's thought. "If we clean it up and provide some basic facilities…"
"I'll talk to Chen Wei about it," Sister Lin decided. "And maybe with some people from other alleys too. This has to be a joint effort."
Again, Li Yuan observed with a warm feeling, he wasn't the one taking over or leading in a dominant way. He provided an idea, but let others organize and implement it. This is the most sustainable kind of influence—one that empowers others to take ownership.
That night, Li Yuan sat in his courtyard, sipping the herbal tea they had made that day. It did taste... different from regular tea. Not just because of the herbal combination, but because there was something... more complete about it, as Madam Wang had said.
The Understanding of the Veil, he reflected on his use of spiritual power that day. I used it to 'envelop' good intentions and love into these remedies. Was that manipulation? Or an ethical enhancement?
The question wasn't easy to answer. But when he thought about the faces of the people today—Madam Wang's serenity, the children's enthusiasm, Sister Lin's determination—he felt that what he had done was... an amplification of what was already naturally there.
I didn't create a goodness that didn't exist. I only helped the goodness that was already there become a little more effective.
And if that's wrong, then I will learn from that mistake. But for now, I believe that helping people to help each other is a justified use of spiritual power.
Inside his Zhenjing, his fourteen understandings vibrated with a quiet harmony—not the excitement of a dramatic achievement, but the deep satisfaction of small, genuine, and useful actions.
Today, he realized, feeling the night wind carry the herbal scent from various houses in the alley, this community became a little stronger. Not because I led them or gave them a power they didn't have, but because I helped them find and organize the power they already possessed.
And perhaps that is the best form of spiritual service—not to be a powerful savior, but to be a catalyst that helps others become the best versions of themselves.
The stars began to appear in the clear sky, and Li Yuan felt something he hadn't felt with this intensity for a long time: the feeling that he was in the right place, at the right time, doing the right thing.
Kindness truly does overcome fear, he reflected on the title that seemed to have written itself for this day. Not because kindness is more powerful than fear, but because when people focus on doing good for others, they don't have time to drown in fear.
And perhaps that is what 'overcoming' means—not by destroying, but by redirecting energy toward a more constructive and life-affirming direction.