Dozens of thousands of souls now inhabited the spiritual ecosystem that Li Yuan once called his Zhenjing. But now, standing on the edge of a deep abyss with his increasingly foreign-feeling consciousness body, Li Yuan faced a question that shook the very foundation of his ten-thousand-year existence.
"Who am I?"
The question echoed in his consciousness with a terrifying intensity. It was not an abstract philosophical question, but an immediate and pressing existential one. With every new soul he collected, the boundaries of his individual identity grew more blurred.
A Deep Identity Crisis
Li Yuan felt he was at a fundamental crossroads. There were moments—more and more frequently lately—when he wasn't sure if the thoughts he was experiencing were truly his own or a new consciousness emerging from the collective of souls within him.
"Am I still Li Yuan," he whispered to the mountain wind, "the individual born in Ziran Village ten thousand years ago? Or have I become something else? A collective consciousness that only holds the memory of being Li Yuan?"
This doubt was reinforced by the fact that many of the insights and perspectives he now possessed clearly did not originate from his ten-thousand-year journey. There was wisdom about group hunting from the wolf souls, understanding of root systems from the ancient tree souls, knowledge of geological processes flowing from the river soul.
"I am thinking thoughts that were never mine," he admitted with growing unease. "I am seeing the world through eyes I never possessed. Am I still Li Yuan, or am I becoming a composite entity that only makes Li Yuan a part of itself?"
Doubts About the Decision
For the first time since he began the collection, Li Yuan started to question the wisdom of his decision. Standing on the edge of the abyss—both literally and figuratively—he contemplated the magnitude of the transformation he was undergoing.
"Maybe," he whispered, his voice trembling with uncertainty, "maybe I should have let them go. Maybe the natural order, where souls slowly fade into nothingness, was better than this."
He recalled the moments of clarity and peace he felt when he was just one consciousness. The simplicity of being a single entity with one perspective, one will, one identity. Now, the complexity of the ecosystem within him sometimes felt... overwhelming.
"I committed to this responsibility," he reminded himself, but even that commitment felt fragmented. Was it Li Yuan's commitment, or was it the result of a consensus from the collective consciousness he had brought into being?
The Memory of a Fundamental Choice
In this moment of deep uncertainty, Li Yuan's mind returned to the crucial decision ten thousand years ago—the choice that triggered the entire chain of events.
"The war between the state of Qin and the state of Lu," he murmured, remembering with absolute clarity the moment he chose to release his comprehension to stop the meaningless conflict. "I stopped that war by releasing my comprehension. That action destroyed my physical body, leaving only my soul."
It was a moment of profound choice. When his physical body was shattered by the intensity of the global spiritual resonance, he faced two options: dissolve back into the universal Dao—merging with cosmic harmony without individual identity—or maintain a sense of self as a separate consciousness.
"And at that moment," he recalled with increasing clarity, "I seemed to melt into the Dao. Like becoming the Dao, no longer Li Yuan. But it was then that I decided... I would remain Li Yuan forever."
Name and Identity
The memory of that pivotal decision brought him back to the foundation of his identity—the name given to him by his father, Li Haoming.
"The name my father, Li Haoming, gave me," he said solemnly, "Li Yuan. Yuan means origin, the root that supports."
An understanding flowed into him with a clarity that cut through the confusion and uncertainty. Yuan—origin, root, foundation. Not the end, but the beginning. Not the destination, but the source from which all other things flow.
"The name was... prophetic," Li Yuan realized with a sense of awe. "Yuan—the root that supports. I was always destined to be a vessel. The foundation where other consciousnesses could grow."
A Profound Humility
Despite carrying tens of thousands of souls and having an evolved comprehension over ten thousand years, Li Yuan's response to this enlightenment remained full of humility.
"The Daojing is the path of understanding," he mused with his characteristic humility, speaking even to himself in a respectful tone. "The Dao gives birth to one, one gives birth to two, two gives birth to three, three gives birth to all things."
He fell silent, contemplating the vastness of the cosmic principles he had learned throughout his life.
"My understanding is still shallow," he admitted humbly, "like the surface of the water. True understanding is so deep, but..."
Even in his profound spiritual crisis, Li Yuan's fundamental character—humility, reverence for mystery, and an unwillingness to claim more than he truly understood—remained intact.
Resolution Through Purpose
Little by little, through contemplation of his name and the memory of that pivotal decision four thousand years ago, Li Yuan began to find a resolution to his identity crisis.
"I chose to remain Li Yuan, not to dissolve into the Dao," he reminded himself. "And now, I am choosing again. I am choosing to remain Li Yuan—not an individual in the old sense, but Li Yuan as the foundation, as the root that supports."
That understanding crystallized with increasing clarity. He was not losing his identity—he was fulfilling his identity in a way his father had prophesied when he gave him the name Yuan.
"I am becoming what I was meant to be from the beginning," he concluded with a growing sense of peace. "The root that supports. The foundation from which new forms of consciousness can emerge. The source that provides stability for an ecosystem of souls."
The identity crisis was resolved not by rejecting the transformation, but by understanding that the transformation was a fulfillment, not a betrayal, of his true self.
Renewed Commitment
With the clarity born from understanding his life's purpose, Li Yuan renewed his commitment to continue the soul collection—but with a changed perspective.
"I am Li Yuan—the root that supports," he affirmed with quiet conviction. "I will continue to collect souls, not as an individual bearing a burden, but as a foundation providing a home. The ecosystem within me is not the loss of identity—it is the manifestation of identity in its truest form."
Standing on the edge of the abyss, Li Yuan no longer felt fragmentation or loss. He felt rooted, anchored in an understanding of purpose that transcended individual consciousness while still honoring the source from which everything grows.
The identity crisis had transformed into an affirmation of identity. Li Yuan knew who he was, and who he was becoming, with a clarity that would sustain him through any future transformations.