Thirty seconds.
That was the time Li Yuan allowed the Understanding of Fear to flow freely—long enough to touch every soul within a fifty-kilometer radius, yet short enough not to cause permanent damage to weaker souls.
Through his Wenjing Realm, he could sense that the message had been delivered. Everyone in the capital of Tianshan had now felt the reflection of their most honest fears.
Enough, Li Yuan decided inwardly.
With a subtle yet firm internal movement, he began to withdraw the Understanding of Fear, wrapping it back into the layers of his Water Core Consciousness. The process was like closing a gate that had been opened—slowly, carefully, ensuring nothing leaked without control.
His Understanding of Containment worked with a precision honed over thousands of years. Like a gentle but strong hand, it enveloped the resonance of fear, pulling it back into his Zhenjing, sheathing it with layer upon layer of the understanding of calm, flowing water.
The effect on the environment was immediate. The overly long shadows slowly returned to normal. The dimmed sky began to brighten again. The birds that had been flying in erratic patterns calmed down and landed on tree branches.
However, the effect on human souls was not so simple.
Li Yuan knew—and this was knowledge that came from thousands of years of experience—that containment only stopped the new effects. The impression already left on every person's soul could not be withdrawn. Like a frightening sound that has been heard, even when the sound stops, the goosebumps remain. Like a predator's sharp gaze, even when the predator has left, the sense of dread clings to the body.
In the throne room, King Tianlong was still trembling on his throne. Although the resonance of fear had stopped flowing from Li Yuan, the experience he had just felt—the confrontation with his own emptiness—remained real, remained haunting.
The guards surrounding the throne could begin to breathe more easily, but their faces were still pale. The memories of their violent actions, which had surfaced with terrifying clarity over the last thirty seconds, could not be so easily forgotten.
The palace nobles looked at each other with a different gaze than before. There was a crack in the mask of superiority they had always worn. They had seen the emptiness within themselves, and that knowledge could not be erased.
Through his Wenjing Realm, Li Yuan heard a change in intentions throughout the capital. The residual effects of the Understanding of Fear worked in different ways depending on the strength of each individual's soul.
Weaker souls—those who had long lived in denial and had never developed inner strength—would carry this anxiety for days, perhaps weeks. They would wake up at night in a cold sweat, would feel an unexplainable unease, would see shadows in the corners of their eyes.
Stronger souls—those with a solid moral foundation or who had learned to face the truth about themselves—would recover more quickly. The sense of dread would fade in a few hours or days, leaving only a valuable lesson: a reminder of the importance of living with integrity.
Most interesting was the effect on those in the middle of the moral spectrum. Officials like Inspector Chen, who had initial idealism but had been compromised by the system—they would carry this fear as a catalyst. The experience of the last thirty seconds would become a turning point, a moment when they had to choose between continuing to serve a corrupt system or finding a path for real change.
Li Yuan slowly backed away from the throne, giving King Tianlong space to compose himself. His expression remained calm, but through his gray eyes shone a deep understanding of what had just transpired.
"Your Majesty," he said in a voice that had returned to being as gentle as flowing water, "what you have just felt is the truth. Not magic, not an attack, but a mirror showing what you have been hiding from yourself."
King Tianlong tried to speak, but his voice was still trembling too much.
Li Yuan continued in a tone almost like a patient teacher: "The fear you feel will not just disappear. It will remain, a residue in your soul. How long it lasts depends on what you choose to do next."
"If you choose to ignore it, to bury it back under arrogance and power, it will grow into paranoia and despair. But if you choose to face it, to use it as motivation to become a better ruler, it will transform into wisdom."
Li Yuan turned to leave, his steps calm yet full of finality.
"I have delivered the message that needed to be delivered. The decision is now in your hands and those of your advisors. But know this: the entire capital has felt what you felt. They all now carry the same residue of fear—the fear of the consequences of their choices."
Li Yuan paused for a moment at the throne room door and turned for a final look.
"In the next few days, you will see a change in this capital. Some people will become more paranoid, more cruel, trying to bury their fear with power. Others will begin to seek a path to redemption, to change the system that has made them a part of the cruelty."
"The question is: which group will you lead?"
With those last words, Li Yuan left the throne room. The guards did not try to stop him. Even after the active resonance of the Understanding of Fear had ceased, Li Yuan's presence still carried a weight of authority that made anyone hesitant to obstruct his path.
As he walked through the magnificent palace corridors, Li Yuan could feel the residual impact of his actions. The servants he passed stopped and bowed their heads, not out of palace protocol, but from an instinctive recognition of something far greater than worldly politics and power.
In the palace courtyard, the guards who had previously tried to block his entry now only watched with gazes still filled with the echo of the fear they had felt. Some of them began to question their oath of loyalty—not to the king as an individual, but to the system that made them tools of oppression.
Li Yuan walked past the still-open palace gates. As he stepped out, he felt a change in the energy in the air. The capital of Tianshan would never be the same after the thirty-second resonance of the Understanding of Fear.
Its long-term effects would unfold in the coming weeks and months. The city's culture—which had long been built on a foundation of fear of authority and resignation to hierarchy—had now been touched by a different kind of fear: the fear of the truth about oneself.
Some people would use this experience as a catalyst for positive change. They would begin to question the assumptions they had long accepted without thought, would seek ways to live with more integrity, would try to atone for past mistakes.
Others would sink deeper into denial and cruelty. They would try to bury the fear they felt by increasing control, by becoming more ruthless, by creating more suffering in a desperate attempt to feel powerful.
And the rest—the majority—would struggle in the middle, trying to understand what had just happened, trying to decide which path they would take.
Li Yuan walked down the city's levels with a steady pace. At each level, he could feel the echo of fear still resonating in the souls of the inhabitants. On the merchant level, artisans and traders worked with slightly slower movements, their eyes occasionally staring blankly as an unpleasant memory surfaced without warning.
On the commoner level, the effect was paradoxical. Those who had long lived in constant fear now felt that their rulers also felt fear—and that knowledge, while it didn't remove their suffering, provided a strange comfort. Fear was no longer the monopoly of the weak.
Uncle Wu, whom Li Yuan saw from a distance gathered with a group of commoners, seemed to be speaking with more confident gestures even though his face still showed traces of unease. Mei, the soup vendor, served customers with slightly trembling hands but with eyes that were sharper, more alert.
They will need time to process this experience, Li Yuan thought with an awareness that came from thousands of years of observing the human response to spiritual truth. But the seed has been planted. Now it is up to them to choose how that seed will grow.
Li Yuan reached the city gates and paused for a moment to look back. The capital of Tianshan stretched behind him, tiered towards the peak where the palace stood. In his vision, enhanced by the Wenjing Realm, he could 'hear' millions of intentions surging like a restless ocean—fear, confusion, despair, hope, anger, and here and there, a spark of resolve to change.
My work here is done, he decided with a calm finality. I have shown this kingdom a mirror. What they see in that mirror and what they choose to do with that knowledge is no longer my responsibility.
Containment has stopped the new effects, but the impression I have left will last. And perhaps, within that residue of fear, there is a seed of wisdom that can grow—if they are brave enough to let it.
Li Yuan stepped through the city gates and began walking toward the mountain path that would take him to another part of this world—a vast world, full of different races and nations, diverse languages and cultures.
Behind him, the capital of Tianshan continued to grapple with the echo of the Understanding of Fear that had touched every soul within a fifty-kilometer radius. Some would heal quickly. Others would carry a spiritual scar for a long time. And some—those who chose to face their fear rather than run away—would find strength in their vulnerability.
But all of that, Li Yuan knew, was no longer a story he was writing. He was just a path opener, a mirror-holder, a bearer of the Dao's resonance that forced souls to face their own truth.
The rest was up to them.
His steps carried him out of the capital, past the last checkpoints where the guards only stared with blank gazes, too shaken to try to stop anyone. The mountain path stretched before him, winding towards an unknown horizon.
Li Yuan did not look back again. The Kingdom of Tianshan was now part of the long trail of his journey—one more place where he had planted a seed of understanding, one more community that had to choose whether to grow through their fear or wither from a refusal to change.
The mountain wind greeted him with a calming coolness. His Understanding of Water resonated with the moisture in the air, with the flow of a small river in the distance, with the dew that was beginning to form as night approached.
The journey continued, as it always did.
And somewhere, in this vast world, there would be another community, another conflict, another lesson that needed to be taught by someone who had lived long enough to understand that true justice requires more than just power—it requires patience, wisdom, and sometimes, a brutal reflection of a truth long denied.