That small village, hidden between mountain slopes and quiet valleys, was home to just over a hundred souls. Though simple, their lives were peaceful and full of warmth. There were no sects, no wars, no grand ambitions—just people living in harmony with nature and with one another.
That day, the blue sky cast its light onto the clear river flowing along the village's edge. Children’s laughter echoed through the air, blending with the rustling of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze.
By the riverbank, a boy stood still, different from the others.
Li Yuan.
With his gray eyes—eyes that seemed to hold the depth of a stormy sky—he gazed at his own reflection in the water. His handsome face was still innocent, yet there was something in it—a quietness, a distance, as if his soul was observing the world from behind an invisible veil.
Beside him, two boys of the same age sat cross-legged on a flat river rock. They were Mu Yi—the cheerful one who never ran out of words—and Fan Tu, quieter, but always by their side.
“Hey, Li Yuan,” said Mu Yi, tossing a small pebble into the water, sending ripples across the surface, “if you could choose, what would you want to be when you grow up?”
Li Yuan didn’t answer right away. He kept staring into the water, as if searching for an answer within himself. Fan Tu simply shrugged, looking at the two of them lazily.
“I want to understand this world…” Li Yuan finally said softly. “Not just live in it.”
Mu Yi laughed, not fully understanding. Fan Tu stared at him a little longer, then gave a faint smile.
The three of them, just children from a secluded village, didn’t yet know that one day—their names would shake the very order of the world.
Li Yuan was now seven years old. Mu Yi was the same age, always full of energy, while Fan Tu was just six—slightly shorter and still fond of carrying his handmade wooden doll wherever he went.
Under the afternoon sky, now turning golden, the three sat by the riverbank, their feet dipped in the cold, clear water. Birds chirped in the distance, and sunlight danced on the surface like fragments of golden light.
“I’m sure I’ll become the strongest warrior in the village!” shouted Mu Yi, raising his hand and striking a mock battle pose.
Fan Tu nodded slowly. “Then I’ll be the greatest hunter. I’ll catch a white tiger like in my father’s stories.”
Li Yuan gave a small smile, then lowered his gaze, letting his fingers trail through the gently flowing water.
“I… don’t know what I want to be,” he said softly. “But I want to know… why does water flow like this? And where does it go?”
Mu Yi frowned. “To the sea, right? My father says all rivers flow to the sea.”
Li Yuan turned to him. “But why? And if all water flows to the sea… why doesn’t the sea ever overflow?”
Fan Tu fell silent. Mu Yi looked confused too.
After a moment, Mu Yi answered with a serious face, “That’s… because the sea is smart. It knows how to hide the water.”
Li Yuan chuckled softly. “Maybe the sea has a secret.”
Fan Tu nodded slowly. “Like you, Li Yuan. You have a secret too, don’t you?”
Li Yuan didn’t reply. He simply stared at the flowing water in front of him, as if the river was speaking something that no child their age could understand.
At their young age, they had no idea that this quiet conversation by the river would be the beginning of a greater understanding—one that would guide their steps down a path from which there would be no return.