Li Yuan stood at the base of the giant oak tree, his head tilted back to stare at the crown of leaves that towered like a natural cathedral built by time itself. The trunk was so large that it would take more than ten adults to hug it, its bark etched with grooves that told the story of the thousands of seasons it had endured.
But what held Li Yuan captive was not its size or majesty.
It was the resonance.
His Ganjing trembled with an undeniable recognition—like hearing a long-forgotten voice, like smelling the scent of a childhood home after years of wandering. This tree carried an echo of something deeply familiar, yet also something very old.
Nine thousand years.
The number flowed through his consciousness with a certainty born from the Understanding of Time he had absorbed for centuries. This tree had stood on this small hill for nine thousand years—almost as long as his own existence. It had witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations, countless changes of seasons, and...
The global resonance of five thousand years ago.
Li Yuan closed his eyes, allowing his Ganjing to flow more freely, feeling layer upon layer of history stored within the wood fibers of this tree. And there, etched into the deepest core of this giant oak, he found a trace of himself.
"This tree was touched," he whispered to the morning silence, his voice like the wind blowing through the leaves. "Touched by the understanding of my soul that I once released."
The memory flowed back like water finding its path—five thousand years ago, when the resonance of his understanding spread across the entire planet for five fatal seconds. A resonance that touched millions of souls, preventing them from dissolving into natural nothingness after death.
Li Yuan opened his eyes and placed his palm on the hard but warm bark. Through that touch, he could feel a shocking truth.
"Normally," he said, speaking to the tree as if it were an old friend who could understand every word, "the souls of humans, animals, and plants would go to nothingness, dissolving back into the source after death. That is the natural cycle that has been going on since the beginning of time."
The wind blew gently, and the oak leaves rustled with a sound that seemed like a whispered agreement.
"But when they were touched by my understanding," Li Yuan continued, his gray eyes staring far into the horizon, "after their death, they did not dissolve. They would exist, stored in the resonance I released, for five thousand years. Only after that would they dissolve into nothingness."
He paused for a moment, feeling the subtle tremor in his Zhenjing as he thought about the consequences of his past actions. So many souls that should have rested in the peace of nothingness were forced to endure in a spiritual limbo because of his doing.
"But you are still alive, old tree," Li Yuan said in a tone mixed with awe and tenderness. "You have not died, so the resonance of my understanding did not freeze you at the threshold of nothingness. Instead, you absorbed that resonance and made it a part of your life."
Li Yuan walked around the tree with a slow stride, his hand never leaving contact with the bark. Each step revealed a new layer of understanding—how this tree had become a kind of "living vessel" for the resonance he had released thousands of years ago.
This is why the villagers feel peace here, Li Yuan realized. This tree radiates the echoes of my understanding—Silence, Water, Existence—in a very subtle and natural form.
"The lifespan of a tree can indeed be very long," Li Yuan said, stopping on the opposite side of the tree, facing the village that looked small in the distance. "And you prove that a life touched by understanding does not always become a burden. Sometimes, it becomes a blessing."
Li Yuan sat cross-legged in the tree's shade, his back leaning against the sturdy trunk. For the first time in thousands of years, he felt the presence of a "friend" who truly understood his journey—not through words or human empathy, but through a resonance that had been shared for thousands of years.
"Right now, you are still alive," he spoke in an increasingly gentle voice, almost like a prayer. "And there are many others like you in this world, aren't there?"
The question was not directed at the tree alone, but at his own cosmic consciousness. His Ganjing flowed outward subtly, reaching far beyond this small hill, feeling the faint resonances from various parts of the world.
Yes, his inner self answered with calm certainty. There are many.
Other ancient trees that had been touched by the resonance five thousand years ago. Mountains that absorbed the Understanding of Sky. Rivers that flowed with the echoes of the Understanding of Water. Animals that lived longer than they should, carrying traces of the Understanding of Body in every breath they took.
This entire planet, Li Yuan realized, had changed in a very subtle yet profound way. Not a change visible to the naked eye, but a change in the most fundamental level of spiritual resonance.
"You are all witnesses," Li Yuan whispered, his eyes closing as he allowed his consciousness to merge with the silence in the tree's shade. "Witnesses to the moment when understanding first touched this world with its full power."
The wind blew stronger, and the rustling of the oak leaves sounded like a choir agreeing with his words. Li Yuan felt a strange peace—not only from the Understanding of Silence within him, but from the external resonance radiated by this tree.
It's like sitting on the lap of a wise grandfather, Li Yuan reflected with an internal smile. Who doesn't need to say anything to provide comfort.
"Perhaps," Li Yuan said to the tree, his voice almost inaudible, "this is why fate brought me to this place. Not to find something new, but to remember something old."
Li Yuan opened his eyes and looked at the peaceful-looking Millbrook village in the distance. The simple villagers, who lived without knowing that they resided in the shadow of a tree that had absorbed spiritual resonance for thousands of years. Who felt peace without knowing that that peace was an echo of a long-lost understanding.
"They deserve to know," Li Yuan said with a conviction that was slowly growing. "Not about the past, not about the consequences of my actions. But about the possibilities that exist within themselves."
Li Yuan rose from his sitting position, his hand still touching the bark in a gesture of respectful farewell.
"Thank you, old friend," he said. "For reminding me that the past isn't always a burden. Sometimes, it becomes the foundation for something more beautiful."
When Li Yuan began walking down the hill toward the village, he felt something change within him. Not a change in understanding or power—but a change in perspective.
All this time he had seen the global resonance of five thousand years ago as a mistake that needed to be corrected. But the giant oak tree had taught him something different: that a consequence does not always mean destruction. Sometimes, a consequence can be a seed for a deeper transformation.
It's time to start planting new seeds, Li Yuan said to himself as he stepped back into the world of humans. Seeds of understanding that grow from choice, not from an accident.
Behind him, the giant oak tree stood in a wise silence, its leaves rustling with a sound that seemed like a blessing for the journey to come.