Li Yuan had never intended to use his enlightened understanding of the Dao. He knew that the Dao was always within humans, whether acknowledged or not.
However, in the Ganjing (感境), it was impossible to completely extinguish all understanding. He could only suppress, contain, and wrap it behind his Core Consciousness—Water, which flowed gently and calmly.
This time, he released just a fraction—like only 1% of himself.
The understanding of fear slowly emerged from its wrapping. Unlike a technique or move, it did not explode. It seeped… flowing calmly but spreading widely.
And when it did, the entire kingdom resonated.
Environmental Resonance: the sky seemed to dim, shadows grew longer than they should, livestock became restless, and birds were reluctant to perch.
Spiritual Resonance: people felt uneasy without reason, children cried for no explainable cause, and soldiers had nightmares even before they fell asleep.
Personal Memories: everyone began to be haunted by their own shadows—old traumas, doubts, or guilt they thought were long buried.
The aura was passive. Li Yuan did not will anything, but the Dao itself reflected it.
A person in the Ganjing realm could only perceive, and in the face of this fear, every soul felt a vague trepidation.
This fear was not merely an emotion; it was a field of resonance. It was not Li Yuan's creation but an echo of the Dao flowing from within him.
Li Yuan realized this was the danger of having 18 understandings: they were all alive, all passive. Only his Core Consciousness of "Water" had been holding them back, flowing, and calming. But the moment he released just one—even a single drop—the world around him changed.
Inside the magnificent throne room, the first effect was felt by King Tianlong himself. The man who moments before had been screaming with rage and arrogance now felt something he hadn't experienced in decades—a pure, undeniable fear.
It wasn't a fear of an external threat. It wasn't a fear of losing power or wealth. This was a deeper fear—the fear of the emptiness he had long covered with the palace's splendor, the fear of his own true incompetence, the fear that his entire life was an illusion built on the suffering of others.
The King's hands, gripping the throne's armrests, began to tremble. His sweat was cold, his breath short. Through his Wenjing Realm, Li Yuan could hear the chaotic thoughts within the ruler's soul: What is happening? Why can't I control this? Who is this person in front of me?
The guards around the throne were in no better condition. Those who had been trained to show no emotion, who had spent years mastering military discipline, now stood in stiff postures that hid extreme tension. Some of them began to sweat coldly; others felt their knees shake uncontrollably.
Through his Wenjing ability, Li Yuan heard fragments of memories surfacing in the guards' minds: a captain recalled how he once beat a commoner child who stole bread for his starving siblings; a sergeant remembered his father who died because he couldn't afford medicine while the sergeant guarded the royal medicine warehouse; a young soldier recalled the desperate look of a mother whose child was forcibly taken to become a palace servant.
The fear flowing from Li Yuan did not create fear—it revealed the fear that already existed, which had been suppressed, denied, or ignored. Every soul in the room was now confronted with their most honest reflection.
The palace nobles, who usually wore masks of grace and superiority, now felt the foundations of their self-confidence beginning to crack. Lady Mei, an aristocratic woman who always felt superior due to her birth, suddenly remembered a time when she was a child and cried alone because she realized no one truly loved her—they only loved her status. Lord Zhang, who always boasted about his pure blood, was now confronted with the reality that his entire life had never produced anything meaningful for anyone.
Li Yuan stood in the middle of the room with a calmness that contrasted sharply with the internal chaos that engulfed everyone around him. His expression remained neutral, yet through his Wenjing Realm, he could feel every rumble of fear echoing in the souls present.
This is what happens, Li Yuan thought with deep sadness, when someone lives in a lie for too long. When the truth finally emerges, even the truth about oneself, the fear becomes overwhelming.
The effect of the Fear Understanding was not limited to the throne room. Like a ripple in calm water, its resonance spread throughout the palace, then throughout the city, and finally to every corner of the kingdom.
In the upper levels of the city, the administrative officials who were usually busy with documents and regulations now felt an unexplainable unease. Master Liu, the head of the tax division, suddenly remembered all the families he had destroyed with unreasonable tax demands. He felt the faces of the hungry children whose parents couldn't pay taxes after giving most of their harvest to the kingdom.
On the merchant level, artisans and traders who were usually busy with their daily routines stopped for a moment, sensing something strange in the air. Master Chen, the furniture maker whom Li Yuan had met earlier, felt an old fear resurface—the fear that his skills, which he had built for decades, would never get the recognition they deserved, the fear that his life would end in futility.
On the commoner level, the effect was paradoxical. Those who had lived in constant fear for years now felt a different fear—not fear of external oppression, but fear of the possibility that their suffering might end. A fear of hope, because hope carried the risk of an even deeper disappointment.
Uncle Wu, who had taught the children in the makeshift school, felt a tremor of fear in his chest—the fear that everything he had done might not be enough, that it might be too late to save a generation that had lived too long in forced ignorance.
Mei, the soup vendor who once spoke with Li Yuan, felt a different fear—the fear that the promised change might require a sacrifice she couldn't make, the fear that the freedom offered might be too heavy for people who were accustomed to living within limits.
What was most interesting about Li Yuan's Fear Understanding resonance was how it affected nature itself. Animals, which have an instinctive sensitivity to spiritual energy changes, reacted in their own ways.
Horses in the palace stables became restless, kicking and neighing in unusual tones. The birds that usually chirped in the palace gardens were now silent, some of them flying away with erratic flight patterns.
Even plants seemed to respond. Leaves in the palace garden trembled even though there was no wind; flowers that were usually in full bloom slightly closed their petals, as if protecting themselves from something unseen.
Li Yuan realized this was the first time in thousands of years he had allowed one of his understandings to flow with such intensity. Normally, his Water Core Consciousness acted as a filter and a calming agent, ensuring that the passive effects of his other understandings didn't overly disturb his surroundings.
But this time, facing systematic cruelty and an arrogant refusal of reform, he felt the need to show this kingdom what it meant to face a power that came from a genuine understanding of the Dao.
Through his Wenjing Realm, Li Yuan could hear the changes happening in the intentions and resolve of people throughout the kingdom. Guards who were usually obedient without question now began to question the orders they received. Officials who usually implemented policies without considering the consequences were now confronted with the moral implications of their actions.
Most significant was the change in the common people. The fear they felt from Li Yuan's resonance, strangely, began to transform into something else. When they saw that their rulers—who had always seemed so powerful and untouchable—now also felt the same fear, they began to realize that the power that had oppressed them might not be as strong as they thought.
Fear, Li Yuan mused while observing the effect of his understanding, is an honest teacher. It cannot be denied or ignored. It forces every soul to confront the truth about themselves, about what they truly fear, and about what is truly important to them.
In the throne room, King Tianlong finally managed to gather the last remnants of his arrogance. With a trembling voice that tried to sound authoritative, he said, "Wha... what are you doing? What kind of magic is this?"
Li Yuan looked at the king with a serene expression yet filled with an infinite depth of experience. "Your Majesty," he said in a voice that remained soft yet carried the weight of undeniable authority, "this is not magic. This is the truth."
"The truth?"
"The truth about what happens when a system built on fear—the fear of losing power, the fear of change, the fear of justice—is confronted by someone who has learned that fear is a teacher, not an enemy."
Li Yuan stepped closer to the throne, and with each step, the resonance of fear intensified.
"Your Majesty, everyone in this room, in this palace, in this kingdom, is now feeling what they have long suppressed. The fear of the consequences of their choices. The fear of the emptiness of meaning in their lives. The fear of the reality that they may have wasted years chasing things that are not truly important."
King Tianlong tried to rise from the throne, but his legs trembled, and he fell back into the chair.
"But fear," Li Yuan continued in a softer tone, "can also be a gateway to wisdom. When a person finally acknowledges what they truly fear, they can begin to choose whether to live in that fear or to use that fear as motivation to change for the better."
Li Yuan stopped right in front of the throne and looked directly into King Tianlong's eyes.
"So, Your Majesty, now that you feel true fear—the fear of the emptiness you have covered with power, the fear of the meaninglessness of the life you built on the suffering of others—what will you choose?"
The silence that enveloped the throne room was so deep that the rapid heartbeats of everyone present sounded like war drums.
"Will you use this fear as a reason to harden your heart even more and increase your cruelty?" Li Yuan asked in a voice that was almost a whisper yet reached every corner of the room with perfect clarity.
"Or will you use this fear as the beginning of wisdom—an admission that the system you have maintained has turned you into someone even you are afraid to face in the mirror?"
The effect of the Fear Understanding began to reach its peak. Throughout the kingdom, everyone was now faced with their own moment of truth—the choice between continuing to live in denial or using fear as a catalyst for real change.
And at the center of all this resonance, Li Yuan stood with absolute calmness, waiting to see if this kingdom would choose to grow through its fear or be destroyed by its inability to face the truth about itself.