Seven months. Two hundred and ten days since their feet last touched the ground of Millbrook, and the small community that was once composed of villagers and merchants now moved through the forest with the grace of true nomads. Li Yuan stood on the summit of a small hill, his eyes sweeping over the landscape that had become their daily routine—an orchestra of nomadic life played with a harmony born from experience and mutual understanding.
They no longer struggle against nomadic life, he mused, observing the morning activities. They have become a part of it.
Below him, the camp moved with an efficiency that would make any nomadic tribe proud. Anna and Sarah Miller led the team dismantling the shelter in a perfected order—first the most important items were packed and secured, then the structures that could be quickly folded, finally cleaning the area to ensure no trace was left behind except for good memories.
"Lila, tie that rope with the knot I taught you yesterday," Anna said while rolling up the leather tarp that had been their roof. "Remember—two wraps, tuck the end, then pull tight."
The seven-year-old girl nodded seriously, her small fingers moving with a skill that would make a sailor proud. Seven months ago, she was afraid of the dark, Li Yuan remembered with a smile. Now she can tie a sailing knot and start a fire in the rain.
To the right, Marcus led the morning hunting team—no longer with the nervousness of an amateur hunter, but with the confidence of someone who had understood the rhythm of the forest. Ben Carter walked beside him, a bow on his shoulder, his sharp eyes scanning the ground for fresh tracks.
"These tracks are about three hours old," Marcus said to his group, his voice low but clear. "A large deer yesterday, following the waterline. We'll make a wide circle, approach from downwind."
The language of a hunter, Li Yuan recognized. Nothing learned from books or teachers—this is knowledge forged by necessity and honed by experience.
Thomas Aldrich, though no longer young and with his arm not yet fully recovered, led the group that managed the travel logistics. He sat on a rock with a rough map drawn on a piece of leather, explaining the day's route to the bearers.
"A small river two hours ahead," he said, pointing with a stick. "Clean water, a good resting spot. But be careful of the muddy ground nearby—Robert almost got stuck last week."
Robert, who sat nearby with his leg still needing a crutch, laughed with a humor that had replaced bitterness. "And you'll never let me forget that, will you?"
They turn weaknesses into jokes, trauma into lessons, hardship into stories that can be laughed at, Li Yuan observed with profound admiration.
Most amazing was how the children and teenagers had grown. Lila no longer needed help packing her things—she even helped the smaller children. Ben Carter had become a reliable hunter, despite his limited hand. The other teenagers moved with a confidence born from knowing that they were making a real contribution to the community's survival.
Seven months ago, they were children who were protected. Now they are valued contributors.
Old Pete, although he still had to move more slowly than the others, had become the living library of the community. Every night, he shared knowledge—about the weather, about the signs of nature, about how to read the sky for storm predictions. And most valuable, he shared wisdom about how to keep the community's spirits high when the days became difficult.
"Children," he called out to a small group playing while waiting for the adults to finish preparations, "who can see the shape of a cloud that looks like a dragon?"
The children ran over enthusiastically, their eyes sweeping the sky with an excitement that was not diminished by their hard lives. And in that moment, Li Yuan felt something warm and gentle flow through his chest.
They have not lost the ability to see magic, he realized. Even though their lives are filled with practical challenges, they can still play, still laugh, still see a dragon in a cloud.
David Miller approached, a heavy bag on his back, but his steps were steady. His stomach wound had healed perfectly, and his body had developed muscles he never had as a village carpenter.
"Yuan," he said, adjusting the bag's strap, "I've checked the water supply. The leather bottles are full, and I found a small spring on our route today. We can refill without delaying the journey."
"Good," Li Yuan replied, but what made him smile was not just David's efficiency, but the way the young man had grown into someone who thought strategically, who saw a need before anyone asked him to.
Margaret Aldrich walked closer with a woven basket filled with the morning's forage—mushrooms, roots, leaves for tea. Her hands, which once only knew how to knit and cook pre-made meals, could now identify dozens of types of wild plants and how to prepare them.
"A good day for foraging," she said with satisfaction. "Autumn gives us many gifts before winter comes."
Li Yuan nodded, but his thoughts drifted to a deeper transformation. They are no longer just surviving. They are thriving. They are finding joy in new skills, satisfaction in their contributions, happiness in simple togetherness.
When the convoy began to move—a formation they had perfected with the children in the middle, the strong adults at the front and back, Old Pete in a position that allowed him to give direction without having to rush—Li Yuan walked alongside the line, his eyes sweeping over the faces that had become like open books to him.
Anna walked while holding Lila's hand, but no longer with the worry of a mother protecting a fragile child. This was the hand-holding of two people who strengthened each other. Sarah Miller walked beside David, their eyes alert but not anxious—this was a useful vigilance, not paranoia.
Marcus led the hunting group that moved in a loose formation around the main convoy, their eyes and ears open for opportunities and threats. James, although blind, walked with a stick and an incredibly sharp sense of hearing, providing information about sounds that the others missed.
A perfect system of cooperation, Li Yuan admired. No one leads absolutely, but everyone knows their role and performs it with a skill born from months of practice.
When the sun reached its peak, they stopped to rest and have lunch by the small river that Thomas had predicted. Without needing instructions, the community divided into task groups—some filled water, some prepared a simple meal, others checked equipment and treated small wounds.
Li Yuan sat on a rock and watched the children play by the water while the adults rested. Their laughter flowed like music over the sound of the rippling water, and the sound made him feel something he had never felt with this intensity in his thousands of years of life.
Simple happiness.
There was nothing spectacular about this moment. No breathtaking scenery or extraordinary achievements. Just a group of people sitting by a river, sharing a simple meal, listening to the children play, feeling the sunlight on their faces.
But this is true happiness, Li Yuan realized with stunning clarity. Not great achievements or extraordinary power. But moments like this—simple, calm, filled with love and togetherness.
Old Pete approached and sat beside him, his wise old eyes watching the children play.
"Yuan," he said in a voice filled with deep satisfaction, "what are you thinking when you look at them?"
Li Yuan was silent for a moment, considering his answer carefully.
"I'm thinking," he said finally, "that they are teaching me something very valuable about what it means to be rich."
"Rich?"
"Yes. All this time I thought that wealth was about having many things, or the ability to do extraordinary things. But seeing them... seeing all of you... I realize that true wealth is about having people who care about you and people you care about."
Old Pete nodded with a warm smile. "And being content with what you have, not always wanting more."
"Yes," Li Yuan agreed. "They don't have big houses or fancy food or beautiful clothes. But they have each other, and they have the ability to find joy in the little things."
They sat in comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of life flowing around them. And in that silence, Li Yuan felt something he rarely felt in his long life's journey—complete peace.
This is what 'home' means, he understood with a grateful heart. Not a physical place, but this feeling. The feeling that you are where you are supposed to be, with the people you are supposed to be with, doing what you are supposed to be doing.
And for the first time in thousands of years, I truly feel like I have arrived home.
As they continued their journey in the afternoon, Li Yuan walked with a lighter step. In his Zhenjing, Granny Meredith's soul trembled with warmth, as if she also felt the happiness of the community she once loved.
Seven months, Li Yuan mused, looking at the backs moving in front of him. Seven months from village farmers to true nomads. From people protected by walls and roofs to people who found a home in each other.
And I... I have learned more about strength, wealth, and happiness in these seven months than in my thousands of years of searching before.
Perhaps this is what the world was truly trying to teach me—that the answers I sought were never about becoming more than human, but about becoming a fully complete human.