Three weeks had passed since the herbal workshop at Madam Wang's house, and Harmony Alley had found a new rhythm—one of a community prepared, but not overcome by anxiety. Each morning, the scent of herbal remedies drifted from every home. Each afternoon, people briefly gathered to share the latest news. Each night, they went to sleep feeling that they had done all they could.
Li Yuan stood in his doorway at dawn, sensing something different in the air. It wasn't just the usual thin mist, but... an almost imperceptible tension, like a string pulled a little too tight.
The Understanding of Existence vibrates with a familiar but unwelcome frequency, he observed, breathing in air that felt heavier than usual. Like the distant rumble before a thunderstorm. Something is approaching.
The news from Yunshan that arrived last night from Merchant Liu wasn't good. The plague had not only held its ground, but it was spreading at a rate that overwhelmed local healers. Even more worrying, several small villages between Yunshan and Hexin had begun reporting similar cases.
And now, Li Yuan looked down the path leading to the main road, people are starting to move. Leaving places no longer safe, seeking places that still offer hope.
The sound of unfamiliar footsteps made him turn. A man was walking at the end of the alley with a... staggering gait. It wasn't the step of someone tired from a long journey, but the step of someone fighting against something inside his own body.
He's coming from the north, Li Yuan observed, feeling his Understanding of the Body vibrate with an unpleasant recognition. From the direction of Yunshan. And he...
The man suddenly stopped, grabbing the wall of the nearest house for support. Even from a distance, Li Yuan could see his body was racked by a hard, deep cough.
He's sick. And he needs help.
Li Yuan felt the moment he had anticipated for weeks—the moment when all the discussions, preparations, and good intentions would be tested by a concrete and urgent reality.
The man started walking again, slower than before, toward the center of the alley. Several neighbors began to emerge from their homes, likely awakened by the sound of his harsh coughing.
Sister Lin was the first one out, still in her sleeping clothes but with a face that was immediately alert. Chen Wei followed, carrying a wooden staff he'd picked up from the firewood pile—not as a weapon, Li Yuan realized, but as a support to help the sick man if needed.
This is it, Li Yuan felt a warm and proud feeling spread in his chest. They aren't running. They aren't closing their doors. Their first response is to help.
"Sir," Sister Lin called out in a voice that was firm but not threatening, "do you need help?"
The man turned, and Li Yuan could see his face clearly for the first time. He was in his forties, with pale skin and eyes that... Li Yuan recognized the expression. It wasn't just physical illness, but a deep-seated fear—the fear of someone who didn't know if he would be welcomed or cast out by strangers.
"I..." the man's voice broke with another cough, "I came from Yunshan. I was looking for... a place to rest for a moment."
A momentary silence fell over the alley. Li Yuan could see his neighbors processing the information—'from Yunshan' meant the possibility of carrying the disease they all feared.
This is the moment, he realized. All the preparations, all the talks about compassion and practical wisdom, will be tested now.
Madam Wang emerged from her house, carrying a small bag Li Yuan recognized as the first-aid kit they'd prepared for a situation like this. Granny Zhou followed with a steady stride despite her age.
"How long have you been traveling?" Granny Zhou asked—a question that was both practical and showed she wasn't rejecting the man's presence.
"Three days," the man replied, holding his chest. "I... I didn't mean to intrude. I was just..."
"You need help," Sister Lin finished his sentence firmly. "And we will give you help."
Proud, Li Yuan felt an emotion he rarely experienced with such intensity. I'm proud of them. Of this community. Of the choice they're making despite their fear.
Li Yuan stepped forward, carrying a cup of herbal tea that was still warm and a thin blanket. "Sit down first," he said in a calm but firm voice. "Let's see what we can do."
The man looked at him with watery eyes—either from fever or from the relief of finding kindness in a strange place. "Thank you," he whispered. "I was afraid... I was afraid no one would..."
"We are all human," Li Yuan said, helping the man sit on a wooden bench under a tree that shaded the alley. "And humans care for one another."
Inside me, I felt the Understanding of Existence vibrate with a warm resonance—not because I was doing something heroic, but because I was witnessing the fundamental value of humanity being manifested right before me.
"How's the situation in Yunshan?" Chen Wei asked, keeping a safe distance but not showing rejection.
The man shook his head with a somber expression. "Bad. Very bad. The physicians don't know what to do. The people..." he stopped, as if unable to continue.
"Do you have family there?" Madam Wang asked softly, taking some herbs out of her bag.
"A wife and two children." The man's voice was barely a whisper. "They... they're no longer..."
The silence that fell was not awkward, but a respectful silence for an unimaginable loss.
"I don't know where to go," the man continued, accepting the cup of tea Li Yuan gave him. "I just... walked. Hoping to find a place where I could..."
"Live," Sister Lin finished softly. "You're looking for a place to stay alive."
Li Yuan watched as the man sipped the herbal tea carefully, and he felt the urge to do something more. His Understanding of the Body could identify what was wrong—fever, a respiratory infection, extreme exhaustion, and most worrying of all, the early signs of the same disease that had struck Yunshan.
But I can't use spiritual power to heal him dramatically. It would expose my identity and might create an unhealthy dependency.
But I can do what a Li Qingshan can do—provide attentive care, use herbal remedies carefully, and be a calming presence.
"This remedy will help with the cough and fever," Li Yuan said, handing him a second cup containing a different mixture. "It's not a cure-all, but it will make you feel a little better."
And very subtly, I let the Understanding of the Veil flow into that remedy—not to perform a miracle healing, but to 'envelop' the natural comfort and healing energy, making it a little more effective.
The man drank the second remedy and, after a few minutes, his coughing began to subside slightly. His face was still pale, but his breathing seemed a little easier.
"Better?" Li Yuan asked.
"Yes. Thank you." The man looked around the alley, seeing the faces that watched him with a mix of concern and kindness. "You... you're not afraid?"
"Of course we're afraid," Granny Zhou answered with characteristic honesty. "But being afraid doesn't mean we don't do what's right."
Simple yet profound wisdom, Li Yuan appreciated. Coming from someone who has lived long enough to understand that courage is not about not feeling fear, but about doing what needs to be done despite it.
"We have a place prepared," Sister Lin said, glancing at Li Yuan for confirmation. "The old warehouse at the edge of the city has been cleaned and set up for... a situation like this. You can rest there, get food and medicine, until you feel stronger."
"And if I..." the man didn't finish his sentence, but everyone understood what he meant.
"Then we will care for you," Li Yuan heard himself say with a conviction that surprised even himself. "Carefully, with protection for ourselves, but we will care for you."
In my heart, I felt the resonance of all my understandings—Water that flows to where it's needed most, Existence that values every soul, Silence that gives comfort through presence, Breath that connects all life.
This was the moment when spiritual wisdom became practical compassion, when philosophy became action, when fear was transformed into love through a deliberate choice.
The man began to cry—not from physical pain, but from overwhelming relief. "Thank you," he whispered over and over. "Thank you."
Chen Wei got up from his spot. "I'll prepare the cart to take you to the resting place."
"I'll pack some food and extra remedies," Madam Wang added.
"And I'll organize a schedule for people to help care for you," Sister Lin continued.
They moved with an efficiency born from preparation and genuine compassion, Li Yuan observed with a warm heart. No one panicked, no one hesitated. They knew what to do because they had prepared themselves—not just practically, but mentally and emotionally.
An hour later, as the cart carrying the man disappeared around the corner toward the prepared warehouse, Harmony Alley became quiet again. But it was a different quiet than before—the quiet of a community that had been tested and found they were able to live up to the values they believed in.
"Qingshan," Sister Lin approached as the others began to return to their morning routines, "how do you feel about what just happened?"
Li Yuan was silent for a moment, feeling the complex emotions swirling within him. "I feel... proud," he finally answered. "Proud of everyone here. Of the choice you all made."
"And afraid?"
"Yes, also afraid. Afraid that this is just the beginning. Afraid that there will be more people who need help, and we might not always be able to give it."
Sister Lin nodded with understanding. "But today, we could. And maybe that's what's important—not tomorrow or next week, but today."
Simple yet profound wisdom, Li Yuan appreciated. Focus on what can be done now, rather than being overwhelmed by all the things that might need to be done later.
"Sister Lin," he said after a moment of silence, "what happened today will change us, won't it?"
"Yes. But it might change us for the better. To be more... human."
Human, Li Yuan contemplated the word. After three hundred years of spiritual seeking, after being a pure spirit and having power that could alter reality, I finally understood that being truly human might be the highest achievement of all.
And being human isn't about perfection or power, but about the choice to care for one another, even when that caring involves risk and sacrifice.
That afternoon, Li Yuan sat in his courtyard, sipping the herbal tea, feeling the subtle vibration of his fourteen understandings resonating with the day's experience. Nothing was dramatic or earth-shaking, but there was something... deeper. Something fundamental about what it meant to be a part of a human community.
The threat did arrive, he reflected on the day. But along with the threat came an opportunity—an opportunity to show who we truly are when tested, an opportunity to choose love over fear, compassion over self-preservation.
And today, Harmony Alley chose well.
In the distance, the sun began to set with a warm orange light, and Li Yuan felt something he hadn't felt with this intensity for a long time: a deep gratitude for the opportunity to be a part of something larger than himself, something beautiful and fragile and worth protecting.
The arrival of the threat, he realized, also means the arrival of the opportunity to become the best version of ourselves.