It was late autumn, and after four months that felt like four years, the plague finally began to recede from Hexin. It wasn't with a dramatic suddenness, but a gradual fading that made people almost afraid to believe it—afraid that hoping too soon would bring back the tragedy they had just lived through.
Li Yuan stood on the small balcony of the House of Words, looking at the city that was slowly beginning to show signs of a return to normal life. The market was bustling again. Children were playing in the streets with genuine laughter. People walked without the cloth masks that had covered their faces for so long.
Forty-three, Li Yuan reflected on the number that was now etched into the memory of their community. Forty-three Hexin residents who didn't make it through the plague. Compared to Yunshan, which lost almost half its population, and other devastated cities, that number was relatively small. But every number was a life, a story, a family in mourning.
"Qingshan," Master Shen climbed the stairs to the balcony, carrying two steaming cups of warm tea. "What are you contemplating?"
"About... about what we went through. About how this community managed to... not just survive, but maintain its humanity."
Master Shen handed him a cup and sat on the wooden chair beside Li Yuan. "You know, Li Yuan, in my fifty years of life, this is the first time I've seen a crisis that made a community... stronger, not weaker."
That's because they chose compassion over fear from the beginning, Li Yuan thought. And because enough people had a spiritual and emotional foundation strong enough not to be overwhelmed by panic or despair.
And perhaps, a part of him added with quiet honesty, because there was a spiritual presence helping to maintain that stability without them ever knowing.
"Master Shen," Li Yuan said after sipping his tea, "have you heard about... about the visitors coming next week?"
"Ah, the delegation from the Mirror Academy?" Master Shen nodded. "Yes, word of the 'miracle of Hexin' has spread far and wide. They're curious how a small city like ours could maintain such social cohesion and a relatively low death rate during a pandemic."
Li Yuan felt a mix of pride and wariness. Pride because this community truly deserved recognition for the resilience and goodness they had shown. Wariness because academic scrutiny could complicate things, especially if they focused too much on Li Yuan's role.
"Do you know who is coming?"
"A few scholars and researchers from the Academy. They say they are very interested in the philosophy that guided our community's response."
The Mirror Academy, Li Yuan felt something stir in his deep memory. The name is familiar... an academy supposedly based on teachings about seeing clearly and understanding deeply...
Three days later, the delegation from the Mirror Academy arrived in Hexin with a modest formality but an unmistakable air of authority. Five people in simple but well-made robes, carrying scrolls and writing materials, with a respectful yet intensely observant demeanor.
Li Yuan watched them from the window of the House of Words as they walked through the main street, stopping occasionally to speak with residents, taking notes, clearly conducting some kind of systematic study.
What caught his attention most was a middle-aged woman who appeared to be leading the group, with a confident yet humble bearing, and a way of observing her surroundings that reminded Li Yuan of... someone who had been trained to truly see, not just look.
"Qingshan," Sister Lin entered the House of Words with a mix of excitement and nervousness. "They've asked to meet with you. Specifically."
"With me? Why?"
"Because," Sister Lin smiled with obvious pride, "your reputation as the 'heart of the community response' has spread even to the capital. They want to understand how one person could have such a positive influence on an entire community."
A danger and an opportunity at the same time, Li Yuan realized. An opportunity to share wisdom that could help other communities, but also the risk of too-intense scrutiny.
"When do they want to meet?"
"Now, if you're ready. They've set up a temporary meeting space in the community hall."
Hexin's community hall had never felt so formal as it did that afternoon. Five scholars sat in a semi-circle, with writing materials spread across a wooden table normally used for community dinners and children's activities.
The woman leading the delegation—appearing to be in her forties with sharp yet kind eyes—stood to greet Li Yuan as he entered.
"Master Li Qingshan," she said with a respectful bow, "I am Master Wei Ling, a senior instructor from the Mirror Academy. We are deeply honored for the opportunity to meet with you."
Li Yuan sat in the chair provided, trying to maintain his composure despite his intense curiosity about the connection between this Academy and his memories from centuries ago.
"Master Li," one of the younger scholars began, "we at the Mirror Academy are very grateful for the opportunity to meet with you. The stories of your leadership and wisdom during this crisis have been... inspiring to many communities."
At least not 'legendary' this time, Li Yuan felt a slight relief.
"I don't see myself as a leader or a wisdom teacher," Li Yuan replied with genuine humility. "I just... did what I could to help my neighbors."
Master Wei Ling nodded in approval. "Our founder always taught that true wisdom rarely recognizes itself as wisdom. That those who seek power over others rarely possess the authentic wisdom to guide them well."
Their founder, Li Yuan felt a sharp interest. "May I ask about the founder of the Mirror Academy? Their philosophy sounds... familiar to the approach I tried to apply here."
Master Wei Ling's expression became warm with obvious reverence and affection. "Our founder was Master Shui, a brilliant scholar and teacher who lived approximately three hundred years ago. He established the Academy based on teachings he learned as a child from... from a mysterious teacher in a small village."
Li Yuan's heart skipped a beat. Shui. The little boy who 'wrote inside' rather than on paper. Who showed a deep understanding of the character for 'listening'. One of the eight children Li Yuan taught in Ziran Village.
"Master Shui," Master Wei Ling continued in a voice full of respect, "always spoke of an early teacher who showed him and a small group of village children how to see the world with clarity and compassion. How to understand rather than judge, how to serve rather than control."
Word for word the philosophy Li Yuan had shared with those children centuries ago.
"Are there... are there any records of this teacher?" Li Yuan asked in a voice he hoped sounded casually curious rather than deeply personal.
"Unfortunately, very little. Master Shui said that this teacher appeared in the village for a brief time, taught them the fundamental principles of wisdom and service, then disappeared without leaving a name or detailed personal information."
Master Wei Ling leaned forward slightly, her expression becoming more intense. "But the principles this teacher shared became the foundation of everything Master Shui accomplished in his lifetime, and everything our Academy continues to develop and teach."
"What... what are these principles?" Li Yuan asked, although he already suspected the answer.
"The first," Master Wei Ling began with the voice of someone who had repeated these teachings countless times, "is that true understanding comes from patient and compassionate observation, without an agenda to change or control what is being observed."
Exactly what Li Yuan taught about watching clouds and listening to the silence.
"The second is that authentic wisdom always serves others, never elevates the self. The wise person helps others discover their own strength and insight, rather than creating dependency or awe."
The lesson about being a clear mirror, reflecting back a person's own beauty rather than imposing a foreign image.
"And the third is that in a crisis or conflict, the most powerful response is to maintain a connection to fundamental values—compassion, service, commitment to the wellbeing of all beings."
Everything Li Yuan had tried to embody in Hexin's response to the plague.
Li Yuan felt an overwhelming wave of emotion pass through him. Profound gratitude that the simple teachings he had shared with village children had grown into a wisdom tradition that was apparently helping so many people. Deep satisfaction that the principles he considered most important had been preserved and developed.
And underneath everything, a profound love for the little boy named Shui who had grown up to become a teacher and a founder in his own right.
"These principles," Li Yuan managed to say in a slightly unsteady voice, "sound incredibly... practical and meaningful."
"They are," Master Wei Ling agreed with enthusiasm. "And what's most remarkable is how they apply to virtually every aspect of the human experience—individual growth, relationships, community building, leadership, response to a crisis..."
"Just as you demonstrated here in Hexin," another of the younger scholars added. "Your approach to the pandemic response perfectly exemplifies the principles Master Shui taught."
Li Yuan felt a moment of profound realization. Li Yuan was not just accidentally applying principles he had learned centuries ago. He was unconsciously recreating the same approach that had grown into an entire wisdom tradition, because those principles are part of who he fundamentally is.
"May we ask," Master Wei Ling continued, "about the philosophy that guides your actions during this crisis? How did you choose to prioritize community wellbeing over personal safety?"
Li Yuan took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the opportunity to share wisdom that might help many people, and also to honor the legacy of the little boy who had become a great teacher.
"I believe," Li Yuan began with words that came from his deepest convictions, "that uncontrolled fear is more destructive than most external threats we face. When a community allows panic to dominate decision-making, they lose access to the wisdom, compassion, and creativity they need to actually solve problems."
Li Yuan felt all fourteen of his understandings resonating with a gentle harmony, lending authenticity and depth to the words he spoke.
"So the first response to any crisis," Li Yuan continued, "should be to ground ourselves in our fundamental values. To ask: who are we at our best, and how can we embody those qualities even in difficult circumstances?"
"And then," Li Yuan added, "to recognize that true security comes not from protecting ourselves at the expense of others, but from creating a community where everyone is cared for and supported. When we are all safe, each of us is safe. When some people are abandoned or neglected, none of us are truly secure."
Master Wei Ling nodded with intense approval. "That is exactly the spirit of the teachings Master Shui passed down. Interconnection, mutual care, wisdom that serves the collective good."
"There's one more thing," Li Yuan said, feeling an impulse to share something that might honor Shui's memory in a meaningful way. "I learned that in a crisis, the most important thing is not to try to be a hero or a savior, but to help others discover their own strength and capability. To be... a clear mirror, that reflects back to people their own goodness and wisdom."
The words Li Yuan had spoken to Shui and the other children centuries ago, about being mirrors for each other.
Master Wei Ling's eyes widened with startled recognition. "That is... that is the exact metaphor Master Shui used to describe the ideal of teaching and leadership. That a wise person acts like a mirror—clear, accurate, helpful, but never imposing their own image on what is reflected."
Of course it is, Li Yuan thought with a mix of joy and sadness. Because those were the words Li Yuan shared with the boy who would grow up to become Master Shui.
"Incredible similarity in thinking," one of the younger scholars murmured. "Almost like... like the same source of wisdom."
Li Yuan smiled with an expression he hoped appeared pleasantly surprised rather than deeply knowing. "Perhaps true wisdom tends to find similar expressions, regardless of the specific source or tradition."
Master Wei Ling studied Li Yuan with eyes that seemed to probe deeper than the surface of the conversation. "Master Li, there's something about your approach and understanding that feels... familiar. Like an echo of the teachings that have shaped my entire life."
Spiritual recognition, Li Yuan realized. Not conscious, but some part of her sensing a connection on a level deeper than ordinary awareness.
"Perhaps," Li Yuan replied with gentleness, "it's because both of us are committed to serving others with wisdom and compassion. People who share fundamental values often find themselves thinking in similar ways."
"Perhaps," Master Wei Ling agreed, but with an expression that suggested she sensed deeper layers to the situation.
"Master Li," she continued after a moment of thoughtful silence, "we would be deeply honored if you would be willing to visit our Academy someday. To share your insights with a wider community of students and teachers. Your approach to community leadership perfectly embodies the principles we try to teach."
Li Yuan felt a strong temptation. An opportunity to see what had grown from the seeds he planted centuries ago. An opportunity to contribute to a tradition that was clearly helping many people develop wisdom and service.
But also the risk of increased visibility, of questions that might be harder to answer, of commitments that might interfere with the life in this community that had already become home.
"I will consider it with serious thought," Li Yuan answered with complete honesty. "But for now, I feel that my place is here, with the community that has become my family."
"Of course," Master Wei Ling said with immediate understanding. "Commitment to one's immediate community is a foundational principle of authentic wisdom. Master Shui always taught that true service begins with caring excellently for the people immediately around us."
Another echo of the lessons Li Yuan taught centuries ago.
After the delegation from the Mirror Academy departed a few days later, Li Yuan found himself in the small garden behind the community center, sitting on a familiar bench while watching the sunset paint the sky in shades of gold and purple.
Sister Lin joined him after a few minutes, bringing two cups of the herbal tea that had become their ritual for the end of a difficult or meaningful day.
"How do you feel about meeting with the scholars?" she asked, settling beside him on the bench.
Li Yuan sipped his tea, considering the question with the care that an honest response deserved.
"Deeply moving," he finally answered. "To learn about a wisdom tradition that apparently shares so many values with the approach we developed here. To understand that genuine care and service create ripples that extend far beyond one's immediate community."
Sister Lin nodded with understanding. "They were clearly very impressed with what we accomplished during the pandemic."
"What's more important," Li Yuan replied, "is that they helped me understand what we accomplished. That our response to the crisis wasn't just a practical success, but an embodiment of principles that are time-tested and meaningful."
Sister Lin looked at him with a thoughtful expression. "There was something else, wasn't there? Something about the conversation that... affected you more deeply than just professional recognition."
Perceptive as always, Li Yuan appreciated her intuitive awareness.
"Yes," Li Yuan admitted. "Learning about Master Shui—the founder of their Academy—and the teachings he developed... there was something profoundly inspiring about the idea that wisdom shared with love and humility can grow and continue to help people long after the original teacher is gone."
"A true legacy," Sister Lin observed. "Not fame or monuments, but a positive impact that continues to spread and develop."
"Exactly. And it makes me think about... about what kind of legacy I want to leave with my own life. Not individual achievement or recognition, but a contribution to traditions of wisdom and service that will help people long after I'm no longer here."
Sister Lin smiled with deep warmth. "You are already doing that. Every day, with the way you care for our community, with the wisdom you share, with the example you set. You're helping to create a culture of mutual care that will continue long after any of us are gone."
A culture of mutual care, Li Yuan reflected. Perhaps that is the most important legacy anyone can leave—a contribution to creating communities where people naturally care for each other, where wisdom and compassion are valued and practiced, where service to the common good is a normal part of daily life.
That night, as Li Yuan sat in his small courtyard reflecting on the extraordinary conversation with the descendants of a tradition rooted in his own long-ago teaching, he felt a profound gratitude for the unexpected journey that had brought him to this moment.
Three hundred years ago, I taught a group of children in a remote village about ways to see clearly and serve compassionately. One of those children—a little boy named Shui—grew up to become a master teacher who founded an Academy that continues to develop and share the principles I considered most important.
And now, in a completely different context with a different identity and role, I am finding ways to apply those same principles in service to a different community.
A circle that is complete yet still expanding, he realized, feeling his fourteen understandings resonating with a deep and peaceful harmony. A wisdom that flows from a teacher to students, grows and develops in new forms and contexts, and then continues to spread and serve a broader good.
And perhaps that is the true nature of an authentic wisdom tradition—not the static preservation of specific teachings, but a living flow of insight and compassion that continues to adapt, grow, and find new expressions to meet the needs of each generation and each community.
In the distance, the lights of Hexin began to twinkle in the gathering darkness, each light representing a home where people lived and loved and supported each other with bonds that were strengthened through shared crisis and mutual service.
Li Yuan smiled with deep contentment, knowing that tomorrow would bring new opportunities to serve a community that had already become family, and to contribute to a legacy far more meaningful than any single achievement.