The sun had just touched the tops of the trees in the eastern forest when Li Yuan arrived at the guard hut. The morning air was still cold with dew hanging on the grass, and his breath puffed out thinly in the fresh air. Robert was already waiting, fully prepared—a short spear on his back, a knife at his waist, and a small bag filled with provisions.
"Right on time," Robert said with approval. "Today we'll patrol the north-west route. It's the path most often used by traders, so it's also the most likely to attract unwanted attention."
Li Yuan nodded, adjusting the simple clothes he had put on—a practical brown cloth shirt and pants, leather shoes suitable for long walks, and a small knife Marcus had lent him yesterday. There was nothing flashy, nothing to indicate that he had existed for eleven thousand years. Just a man who wanted to contribute to the safety of his community.
"What do we usually look for?" Li Yuan asked as they began walking toward the path that led out of the village.
"Unusual tracks, signs of illegal camps, abandoned goods—could be stolen goods," Robert explained as his green eyes continuously scanned the surroundings. "Sometimes we also check the small bridges, making sure no one has deliberately damaged them to trap traders."
They walked at a comfortable rhythm, Robert occasionally stopping to point out details to pay attention to—how to read tracks on damp ground, signs that someone had been hiding behind a certain bush, old campfire marks that indicated the movement patterns of strangers.
"You learn fast," Robert commented after Li Yuan pointed out a rope mark left on a tree trunk. "Most newcomers don't have an eye for details like this."
Li Yuan smiled thinly. "Years on the road teach you to pay attention to small things. Sometimes life depends on whether you see something that others miss."
"Have you ever been in serious danger?" Robert asked curiously.
"A few times," Li Yuan replied, choosing not to elaborate. "But I prefer to avoid trouble rather than confront it."
Their conversation stopped when Robert raised a hand, signaling for silence. Li Yuan stopped and followed Robert's gaze—in the distance, a thin smoke curled from behind the trees.
"No one is supposed to camp in that area," Robert whispered. "It's too close to the main trade route."
They moved cautiously, Li Yuan following Robert's silent steps among the leaves. As they got closer, the sounds of conversation began to be heard—men's voices, rough and unfriendly.
Robert gestured to stop behind a thick bush. Through a gap in the leaves, Li Yuan could see three men camping in a small clearing. Their clothes were shabby and dirty, their weapons—swords and an axe—looked well-maintained. Near their campfire hung several bags that did not look like their own.
"Bandits," Robert whispered, his eyes hardening. "And look at those bags. Likely stolen goods."
Li Yuan observed more closely. One of the bags had intricate embroidery—too expensive for a common bandit to own. Another was made of high-quality leather with a silver buckle. These were clearly not their belongings.
"What's the plan?" Li Yuan whispered.
Robert seemed to be thinking hard. "Normally we'd go back to the village and gather more guards. But..." he glanced at the hanging bags, "if there's a living victim, every minute counts."
Li Yuan felt a familiar dilemma—the desire to help clashing with the limitations of ordinary human ability. In a situation like this, he used to be able to use Understanding to resolve conflicts without violence. Now, he had to rely entirely on human intelligence and courage.
"How many exits are there from that clearing?" Li Yuan asked in an almost inaudible voice.
Robert surveyed the terrain with trained eyes. "Three. The main path they used to enter, and two smaller animal trails to the east and south."
Li Yuan nodded, his brain working quickly to calculate the possibilities. "If we can make them panic and scatter in different directions, we can follow the one most likely to lead us to the victims."
"It's risky," Robert whispered. "There are only two of us."
"Sometimes a calculated risk is better than a caution that gets people killed," Li Yuan replied.
Robert looked at him with an assessing gaze, then nodded slowly. "What are you thinking?"
Li Yuan pointed toward the eastern side of the clearing. "I'll move over there and make a sound that indicates a lot of people are approaching. You stay here. When they panic and run, follow the one carrying the most bags—he's likely to know where the victims are."
"And if they don't panic? If they decide to fight?"
Li Yuan looked at him with calm eyes that held immeasurable determination. "Then we'll do what has to be done."
Robert was silent for a moment, then smiled thinly. "Marcus was right about you. There's something different." He carefully raised his spear. "Alright, three minutes to get in position, then start."
Li Yuan moved through the forest with a silence he had learned over thousands of years—not from a supernatural ability, but from an understanding of how to move in harmony with nature. Every step was carefully chosen, every breath was regulated so as not to disturb the rhythm of the forest.
When he reached his position on the east side of the clearing, he could hear the bandits' conversation more clearly.
"...the trader is still alive, right?" a rough voice.
"For now," another answered with a cruel laugh. "But not for long if he won't tell us where he hid the rest of the gold."
Li Yuan felt a cold anger flow within him. There was a living victim, and they were being tortured. There was no time for a complicated plan.
He began to create a controlled commotion—snapping twigs in a rhythm that indicated many people moving, banging a rock against a tree to imitate the sound of weapons, even imitating vague shouts of command.
"Surround them from the north! Don't let anyone escape!"
The reaction from the clearing was immediate. Sounds of panic, scurrying feet, and then Robert's voice shouting:
"Halt! In the name of Millbrook village!"
Li Yuan ran back toward the clearing, arriving just as one of the bandits was trying to escape to the south with a large bag on his back. Robert was fighting the others while the third had already fled onto the main path.
Without thinking, Li Yuan pursued the bandit carrying the bag. The man was bigger and looked stronger, but Li Yuan had an advantage in speed and endurance. When the bandit stumbled on a tree root, Li Yuan managed to catch up to him.
"Stop!" Li Yuan yelled.
The bandit turned with a drawn sword, his small eyes glinting dangerously. "Back off, or I'll kill you like that poor trader!"
Li Yuan raised his small knife—a very unequal weapon compared to his opponent's sword. But he had fought without supernatural power before, relying on intelligence and observation rather than brute force.
The bandit attacked with a wild, uncontrolled swing. Li Yuan dodged, letting his opponent's momentum carry him too far forward, then struck with his knife at the wrist holding the sword.
The bandit screamed in pain and dropped his sword. Li Yuan didn't waste the opportunity—he pushed the man to the ground and held the knife to his throat.
"Where is the victim?" Li Yuan asked in a cold voice.
"I... I won't tell you anything!"
Li Yuan pressed the knife a little deeper, just enough to draw a single drop of blood. "I'm not Marcus or Robert who will take you back for trial. I'm a traveler who has seen too much evil to feel guilty about what I will do if you don't answer."
There was something in Li Yuan's gray eyes—a depth that showed the threat was not a bluff. The bandit swallowed hard.
"The cave... the small cave west of the river. He was still alive last time we left him."
Li Yuan tied the bandit's hands with a rope from the bag the man had been carrying, then hurried back to the clearing. Robert had already gained control of the situation—one bandit was tied up, the other had fled but left most of the stolen goods.
"The victim is in the cave west of the river," Li Yuan reported. "He's still alive."
"Good," Robert said, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. "Let's go before the other one comes back with help."
They found the trader—a middle-aged man named Willem—tied up and bruised but still alive. When Li Yuan cut the ropes from his hands, the man's eyes were full of grateful tears.
"Thank you," he whispered hoarsely. "I thought... I thought I was going to die here."
"You are safe now," Li Yuan said, helping the man to his feet. "We'll escort you back to the village."
The journey back to Millbrook was slow due to Willem's weak condition. But there was a satisfaction in Li Yuan's steps—not the satisfaction of using extraordinary power, but the satisfaction of doing the right thing with the abilities every human possesses: courage, intelligence, and the willingness to act when others need help.
When they finally arrived in the village, Marcus was already waiting with James. News of their action had preceded them.
"Good job," Marcus said to Li Yuan in a proud tone. "Robert says you acted like a veteran guard."
Li Yuan shook his head. "I just did what needed to be done."
"That's what makes someone a good guard," Marcus replied. "Not power or fighting skills, but the willingness to act when it's necessary."
That night, when Li Yuan returned to the Miller Inn, he felt something different in the way the villagers looked at him. No longer as a benevolent newcomer, but as someone who was truly a part of their community—someone who would fight to protect them.
Sarah greeted him with hot soup and a smile full of pride. "The whole village is talking about what you and Robert did today."
"We were just doing our duty," Li Yuan replied.
"No," Sarah said, placing a bowl in front of him. "You saved a man's life. That's more than just duty."
Li Yuan looked at the steaming soup in front of him, feeling a warmth that came not only from the food, but also from the feeling of belonging, of having a purpose, of having people who cared about him.
For the first time in eleven thousand years, he felt like he was building something meaningful—not through cosmic understanding or limitless power, but through the simple choices to care for others.
This, he thought, feeling the warmth of the soup flow through his body, this is what it means to be home.