Li Yuan continued to follow the will of the currents that carried him through the vast ocean, now at a depth of ten meters below the surface—deep enough to feel the water's tranquility, yet shallow enough to still see the sunlight filtering in from above. This position allowed him to witness both worlds: the serene depths of the sea and the ever-changing dynamics of the surface.
Today, the sky above began to change color.
Thick gray clouds started to gather, blocking the sunlight and creating a different atmosphere underwater. The light that was usually golden now became a deeper greenish-blue, and Li Yuan could feel the change in atmospheric pressure through the water around him.
A storm is approaching, he thought, observing the subtle changes in the current patterns around him. The water was starting to move in a different way—more restless, more dynamic, as if preparing for something big.
Through the passive effect of his Wenjing Realm that he kept open within a one-kilometer radius, Li Yuan could hear how the sea creatures were responding to this change. Small fish began to huddle closer, seeking shelter among the corals or in the more stable depths. The larger creatures moved with a more cautious intention, ready to face the coming turbulence.
They all know, Li Yuan mused with awe. They feel what's about to happen long before human eyes can see the signs.
Then, the most amazing spectacle Li Yuan had ever witnessed in his thousands of years of life began.
The first drops of rain started to touch the ocean surface above his head.
From his position at a depth of ten meters, Li Yuan could see every raindrop as a small point of light falling from the sky. They pierced the water's surface with a gentle plop, creating small bubbles, then disappeared into the warmth of the sea that welcomed them.
Incredible, Li Yuan thought, fascinated. Every drop is a small world descending from the sky.
Through his Understanding of Water in the Wenjing Realm, he could hear the stories each raindrop carried. Some came from clouds formed over distant land, bringing the scent of soil and plant life. Some were formed in the middle of the sea, bringing the essence of salt and freedom. Each drop was a small library that held the journey from the sky to the sea.
What amazed him even more was how this rain created a spectacular visual show. The ocean surface, which had been relatively calm, was now a living canvas, with thousands of small circles expanding and intersecting with each other. From below, it looked like constantly changing mandala patterns, a calligraphy of water written by the sky.
The harder the rain fell, the more intense the show became. Li Yuan saw how the falling raindrops created air bubbles that shimmered like tiny crystals, then rose slowly to the surface in a graceful dance.
This is a conversation, Li Yuan suddenly realized. A conversation between the sky and the sea. The rain is the sky's way of sharing with the sea, and those bubbles are the sea's way of replying.
The storm grew stronger. The waves on the surface began to churn, creating shifting light patterns in the depths where Li Yuan was located. The sound of the storm—the echoing thunder, the roaring wind, the increasingly heavy rain—sounded like nature's orchestra playing a dramatic yet beautiful symphony.
Li Yuan let himself be carried away by this wonder. He didn't try to seek shelter or avoid it—instead, he opened his entire consciousness to fully receive this experience. His consciousness body moved up and down with the increasingly dynamic movement of the water, as if he were dancing to the rhythm of the storm.
Through the one-kilometer radius of his passive Ganjing Realm effect, he felt how the entire marine ecosystem was responding to this storm. There was fear, yes, but not panic. There was wariness, but also acceptance. The sea creatures had experienced thousands of storms before; they knew that this was part of the natural rhythm of life.
They don't fight the storm, Li Yuan thought, observing how the fish adjusted their positions to follow the changing currents. They don't just give up either. They... adapt. Flowing with the change while still maintaining their core selves.
This lesson reminded him of the essence of the Understanding of Water he had first achieved thousands of years ago. Water doesn't fight a rock; it flows around it. Water isn't afraid of a storm; it becomes a part of the storm while remaining water.
As the storm reached its peak, Li Yuan experienced a moment that was almost like an enlightenment. He saw how every element—the rain, the wind, the waves, the sea creatures—moved in a complex yet perfect harmony. Nothing was superfluous, nothing was wasted. Even the chaos of the storm had a pattern, a purpose, a beauty.
This is the Dao in action, Li Yuan reflected with deep reverence. Not a stagnant tranquility, but a living dynamic. Not a rigid order, but a flexible harmony.
On his journey following the increasingly strong currents, Li Yuan passed various forms of marine life, each with a unique way of dealing with the storm. Through the passive effect of his Wenjing Realm, he heard different intentions from each creature: there were fish that swam deeper with the intention of seeking tranquility in the depths. There were those who actually rose to the surface with the intention of feeling the storm's energy directly. There were those who gathered in large groups with the intention of protecting each other, and there were those who chose to hide alone in coral crevices with the intention of self-reliance.
There is no right or wrong way, Li Yuan thought. Every creature finds its own way to live in harmony with a force greater than itself.
For several hours, Li Yuan was a witness and a participant in this storm symphony. He passed several uninhabited islands that looked like dark shadows on the surface, but he didn't feel compelled to stop. His intuition told him that it was not yet time for this journey to end—he was still in the process of learning from the ocean itself.
Through his passive effects, he could sense that there was indeed human activity in the distance—ships seeking shelter, settlements on islands preparing to face the storm. But Li Yuan felt no urgency to approach. Those humans had their own way of dealing with the storm, and Li Yuan respected that.
What was interesting was how this storm created a stronger connection between Li Yuan and his environment. The dramatic movement of the water made communication through his Understanding of Water more intense. Every raindrop that fell, every wave that rolled, every current that changed direction—all of it carried richer information, deeper emotions.
In tranquility, we hear whispers, Li Yuan reflected. In a storm, we hear shouts. Both are equally important, both are equally beautiful.
As the storm began to subside—slowly, like an orchestra lowering its volume before the end—Li Yuan felt a change in the quality of the water around him. The fresh rainwater had mixed with the saltwater, creating layers with different tastes. The air in the form of small bubbles was still scattered, giving the water a different texture.
Everything changes, Li Yuan thought, feeling the subtle difference in how the water flowed around him. The storm doesn't just pass—it leaves a trace, changing everything little by little.
The fish began to come out of their hiding places, moving cautiously at first, then with renewed confidence. What was interesting was how they seemed... enriched by the storm experience. Their movements were more certain, their formations tighter, their intentions more focused.
A storm is not just a test, Li Yuan realized. A storm is a teacher. It teaches about resilience, about adaptation, about finding strength in the midst of chaos.
As the sun began to break through the thinning clouds, creating beams of light like golden pillars descending from the sky into the sea, Li Yuan felt he had received a valuable lesson. He had witnessed how nature handles change—not with resistance or surrender, but with wise adaptation.
Li Yuan continued his journey with an enriched heart, carrying in his consciousness the memory of the dance of the rain and the symphony of the storm he had just witnessed. He knew that this lesson would be a part of him forever, adding depth to his Understanding of Water that had already reached the Wenjing Realm.
Thank you, he said in his heart to the storm that had passed, to the rain that had fallen, to the sea that had received everything with an open embrace. Thank you for teaching me about the beauty in change, about harmony in chaos.
And with a peaceful smile on his face, Li Yuan continued to flow with the currents that had now changed—calmer, but also richer with the experience of the storm that had just passed.