Li Yuan swam slowly toward the land, but not directly to the bustling port. His intuition told him that a sudden emergence from the sea in the middle of busy commercial activity would attract too much attention. Instead, he chose a quieter beach on the eastern side of the port, where a row of coconut trees provided natural privacy.
The water around him vibrated with a warm message of farewell as his feet began to touch the shallow seafloor sand. Each step brought him closer to the human world he had long left behind.
As Li Yuan rose from the seawater, his consciousness body naturally dried itself. The gray hanfu that had accompanied him since the beginning of his journey—and indeed, for thousands of years—flowed gracefully around his body. The long robe was loose and layered, moving like morning mist following the wind. The gray color he chose was not without meaning; it had long been a symbol of a wanderer not bound to one place or social status.
Li Yuan raised his hand to tie his jet-black hair with a worn but still strong red cloth. This tie had also been with him for thousands of years, a simple tradition he maintained for its practicality. Neatly tied hair wouldn't obstruct his view or movements, an important thing for someone who was always ready to move.
When he stepped out of the water and stood on the beach, Li Yuan unconsciously projected the appearance of a man around thirty years old—an age that showed maturity without losing vitality. His face was formed with harmonious proportions, blending firmness with gentleness, wisdom with humility. Most striking were his gray eyes, like a storm-filled sky or the depth of a bottomless abyss—eyes that seemed to hold thousands of years of experience yet were clear and full of curiosity.
Li Yuan was unaware that this naturally formed appearance had an almost hypnotic appeal. Although he had wrapped all his understandings within a five-centimeter radius of his body, there was something he couldn't completely hide—an aura of tranquility that emanated from his being, which had reached a deep spiritual balance.
This passive effect was very subtle, like a breeze that was barely felt but brought a sense of freshness. To those near him, Li Yuan would feel... calming. Like sitting under a shady tree on a hot day, or hearing the sound of flowing water in the middle of the night's silence. Not something dramatic or flashy, just... a presence that brought peace.
Li Yuan stood for a moment on the beach, feeling the sensation of sand under his feet and the land breeze that carried the scent of soil, plants, and human activity. After forty-three days at sea, these sensations felt both foreign and familiar.
This is the time, he thought, looking toward the trees that separated this beach from the path to the port. After years of cultivation and meditation, after five years on Narau Island, after forty-three days of learning from the sea—I am returning to the human world.
He began to walk across the beach toward a footpath visible among the trees. Each step felt like a transition—from the simple life of the sea to the complexity of the land, from meditative silence to social hustle and bustle, from a dialogue with nature to a conversation with fellow humans.
His hanfu swayed gently with the rhythm of his steps, and Li Yuan couldn't help but smile, remembering people's reactions to this traditional attire in the past. The hanfu had its own elegance that reflected a philosophy of life—flowing without rigidity, practical without sacrificing aesthetics, simple yet dignified.
As he approached the footpath, Li Yuan began to hear human voices from a distance. Not through the Wenjing Realm—his radius was too small for that—but physical sounds carried by the wind. Conversations, laughter, even a small argument about the price of goods.
They are alive, Li Yuan reflected with a warm feeling. With all their complexity, contradictions, and beauty—they live with passion.
As he entered the footpath flanked by lush tropical trees, Li Yuan felt a change in the air quality. The clean sea air slowly mixed with the scents of human life—cooking, firewood, cloth, metal, and a mixture of other aromas that created the "signature" of a settlement.
The footpath meandered through the dense vegetation, and Li Yuan could hear the sound of flowing water in the distance—perhaps a small river or a spring that was a source of clean water for the settlement. The sound made him smile, reminding him of his friendship with the water that would always be with him wherever he was.
After walking for about ten minutes, Li Yuan began to see the first signs of human activity. Footprints on the ground showed that the path was frequently used, traces of trimmed branches to keep the path clear, and even some small signs or carvings on trees that might have been made by local children.
They take care of this place, Li Yuan observed. There is a sense of ownership and responsibility for the environment. That's a good sign.
As he continued his journey, Li Yuan began to mentally prepare himself for his first encounter with humans after so long. He recalled the water's warning about "racial" divisions and the social complexity he might face. He also remembered his Wenjing Realm ability that allowed him to hear the intention behind words, which would be very helpful in navigating amidst potential prejudice or, on the contrary, understanding.
The important thing is to remain myself, Li Yuan decided. The Li Yuan who has learned from the water about flowing without prejudice, who has learned from the sea about accepting all creatures equally. If they see me as a representative of the "Kuatri race," I will show them that a person's identity is much deeper than just physical appearance.
The human voices were clearer now. Li Yuan could distinguish at least three different languages being used in the mixed conversations—a sign that he was indeed approaching the multicultural port the water had described.
Then, as he rounded the last bend in the footpath, Li Yuan saw a sight he hadn't seen in a long time: human life in all its chaos and beauty.
In front of him lay the outskirts of the port settlement, with wooden and bamboo houses of varied architectural styles. Some were in the Kuatri style with tiled roofs and tidy yards, some were in the Luxen style with larger structures and striking ornaments, and some were in the Zuwa style with a more flowing design and many openings to nature.
What was most interesting was how these different architectural styles stood side by side—sometimes even in the same block. A sign that even though there were divisions based on "race," practical life forced them to live in close proximity and interact.
Li Yuan stopped for a moment at the end of the footpath, still sheltered by the shadows of the trees, to carefully observe this sight. After a long journey from the depths of the sea to here, he was finally on the threshold of the human world again.
With a deep breath that carried the wisdom of the sea and the peace he had achieved, Li Yuan stepped out from the shadow of the trees and entered the human world for the first time after a life-changing forty-three days.