Dawn broke over Sancheng with a light brighter than usual, as if the sky itself were celebrating the end of a dark night. Li Yuan sat on a wooden bench under the old mango tree in the Harmony Inn's garden, watching the golden light slowly drive away the shadows of the night.
Within the one-kilometer radius of his Wenjing Realm passive effect, which he now allowed to expand normally, Li Yuan could feel a dramatic change in Sancheng's atmosphere. The gripping fear from the night before had been replaced by... reflection. Contemplation. And in many cases—shame.
They are processing what happened, Li Yuan thought, hearing fragments of intentions from the town's residents who were starting to wake up. Some felt ashamed for getting involved with the mob, some were grateful that the violence had been stopped, some were confused about what they had actually witnessed the night before.
The sound of footsteps behind him made Li Yuan turn. Zhang Wei approached with a tired but relieved face, carrying two cups of hot tea.
"You didn't sleep at all?" Zhang Wei asked, handing one cup to Li Yuan.
"It's hard to sleep after... a night like that," Li Yuan replied, accepting the tea with gratitude. The warm liquid provided a simple but meaningful comfort.
Zhang Wei sat down next to Li Yuan and they were both silent for a moment, enjoying the morning tranquility that was in stark contrast to last night's chaos.
"Li Yuan," Zhang Wei said finally, his voice cautious, "what happened last night... how did you do that?"
Li Yuan took a sip of tea, considering how much truth he should share. "What's important is not how, but that it managed to stop the violence."
"But..." Zhang Wei stopped, seeming to struggle with how to express his bewilderment. "The torch stopped in mid-air. That's not... normal."
Li Yuan looked toward the horizon where the sun was beginning to rise in full glory. "Zhang Wei, do you believe that there are things in this world that are beyond our normal understanding?"
Zhang Wei nodded slowly. "After last night, it's hard not to believe."
"Sometimes," Li Yuan said with gentle wisdom, "when a situation is desperate and innocent people are in danger, the universe provides ways for those who are committed to justice to protect those who cannot protect themselves."
It wasn't a complete explanation, but it was the truth—just not the fully detailed truth.
"Are you going to stay?" Zhang Wei asked in a tone that was hopeful but also resigned.
Li Yuan smiled with a subtle sadness. "I am a wanderer, Zhang Wei. Staying too long in one place... that's not my nature."
"But Sancheng needs a person like you. Especially after what happened. People will listen to you now in a different way."
Exactly the problem, Li Yuan thought. When people start to see someone as a supernatural figure, the relationship dynamic changes from a fellow human into something that resembles worship or fear. And that was not what Li Yuan wanted.
"Sancheng doesn't need me," Li Yuan said with gentle firmness. "Sancheng needs people like you, like Liu Ming and Kesi, like Marcus and Astrid and Chen Wei—people who understand the value of unity but who are also indigenous to this community. Outsiders can help temporarily, but real change must come from within."
The sound of the inn door opening made both of them turn. Liu Ming came out carrying a tray with toasted bread and homemade jam.
"A simple breakfast," he said, placing the tray on the bench. "Kesi is still sleeping—last night was exhausting for everyone."
Li Yuan took a piece of bread and felt its familiar texture. Simple food made with care and love—something that is universal across cultures.
"Liu Ming," Li Yuan said after chewing thoughtfully, "how do you feel about Sancheng's future after last night?"
Liu Ming sat on the grass in front of the bench, his position relaxed but his expression serious.
"Honestly? I'm optimistic and worried at the same time," he answered. "Optimistic because the majority of people, when faced with an actual choice between violence and peace, chose peace. Worried because... hatred like what we saw doesn't disappear overnight. It goes underground, becomes more subtle, more dangerous in some ways."
Li Yuan nodded with approval. Liu Ming understood the complexity of the situation with realistic wisdom.
"And you believe Sancheng can handle that without... external intervention?"
Liu Ming looked at Li Yuan with sharp eyes. "You're planning to leave, aren't you?"
"Planning is too strong a word. But yes, I think my time in Sancheng is approaching its natural conclusion."
"When?" Zhang Wei asked.
"Soon. Maybe after the festival officially ends. Or maybe before that, if I feel that my presence has become more of a distraction than a help."
The increasing sound of activity from the direction of the main square reached their ears. People were starting to prepare for the second day of the festival—assuming the festival would continue.
"Will the festival continue?" Li Yuan asked.
"That," Zhang Wei said, "will be decided in an emergency meeting that will be held in an hour. All the coordinators, plus representatives from the three communities."
"And what will you recommend?"
Zhang Wei and Liu Ming exchanged a meaningful glance.
"We will recommend that the festival continues," Liu Ming said, "but with modifications. The focus will be more on healing and reconciliation, less on performance. Maybe sessions where people can talk about what happened, process their emotions, find ways to move forward together."
Li Yuan smiled with genuine warmth. "That is real wisdom. Using a crisis as an opportunity for deeper understanding rather than just returning to the status quo."
Henrik and Elsa emerged from the inn, both looking tired but determined.
"Morning," Henrik said, joining the group under the mango tree. "We heard that there's an emergency meeting. Are outsiders like us invited to provide input?"
"You've already proven that you care about this community," Zhang Wei replied. "Your input will be welcome."
Elsa sat next to Liu Ming. "I was thinking last night about what we can learn from all this. And I realized that maybe the problem isn't the differences between cultures, but the fear of a loss of identity when cultures interact."
"Elaborate," Li Yuan said, genuinely interested in her perspective.
"People from each community are afraid that if they embrace aspects of other cultures, they will lose what makes them unique. But what actually happens is the opposite—when you understand others deeply, you also understand yourself more clearly."
Li Yuan nodded with appreciation. "That is a profound insight. The fear of losing oneself in the process of connecting with others is a fundamental human anxiety. But paradoxically, a real connection strengthens the sense of an authentic self."
The conversation continued for twenty more minutes, with the group discussing various aspects of what happened and what could be done differently. Li Yuan found himself increasingly impressed with the wisdom and maturity shown by his new friends.
They don't need me anymore, he realized with a mixture of pride and melancholy. They've grown into people who are capable of handling complexity with grace and insight. My work here is done.
When the time for the meeting approached, the group prepared to go to the square. But Li Yuan remained seated.
"You're not coming?" Zhang Wei asked.
"This meeting should be for the people who will live with the consequences of the decisions that are made," Li Yuan replied. "I will wait here and hear the results afterward."
The truth was, Li Yuan already felt the stirring of something familiar—a gentle but persistent wanderlust that had driven him for thousands of years. The urge to see new places, meet new people, and learn new lessons.
After the others left for the meeting, Li Yuan remained under the mango tree, enjoying the solitude and the peaceful atmosphere of the beautiful morning.
Through his Wenjing Realm, he could sense a gradual healing beginning in Sancheng's emotional landscape. It wasn't instant or complete—real healing never is—but it was genuine and promising.
Water, Li Yuan thought, remembering his constant companion from his journey across the ocean. It's time to ask my old friend for guidance once again.
Li Yuan walked to a small fountain in the corner of the garden and knelt beside the clear water that was bubbling gently. Placing his hands in the water, he fully opened his Understanding of Water and began the silent conversation that had sustained him through countless journeys.
Old friend, he communicated in a language that was beyond words, my time in Sancheng is approaching its end. Where should my wandering path take me next?
The response came with a gentle clarity that only water could provide. Images flowed through his consciousness—vast landscapes, mountain ranges, cities he had not yet visited, people he had not yet met. And underlying all of it, a sense of a continuing journey, of a never-ending learning.
Southeast, came the answer. Toward a great kingdom that is built among the mountains, where different challenges and opportunities await. A place where the lessons learned in Sancheng will be tested and deepened.
Li Yuan smiled with peaceful acceptance. How far?
Three weeks of travel, maybe four, depending on the method chosen and the stops made along the way.
Thank you, faithful friend. As always, your wisdom guides me well.
As he stood up from the fountain, Li Yuan felt a sense of completion that was deep and satisfying. Sancheng had given him much—an opportunity to reconnect with a human community, a chance to practice diplomacy and wisdom in practical situations, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, the majority of people choose good when given a clear choice.
And hopefully, he had given something valuable in return—not just an intervention in a crisis, but an example of what is possible when someone commits fully to the principles of understanding, compassion, and justice.
Now, Li Yuan thought, walking back toward the inn to begin preparations for his departure, it's time for a new chapter in the endless journey of learning and growth.
On the horizon, clouds were starting to gather—not threatening storm clouds, but gentle clouds that promised an afternoon rain that would nourish the earth and help new growth flourish.
Li Yuan took it as a good omen for the road ahead.