That night, the wind blew gently. The stars were scattered like lights from unspoken memories. Li Yuan sat alone by the river, its water calm, reflecting the vast sky and a restless heart.
Inside him, something felt tight.
Not pain…
Not sadness…
But a pressure, as if something wanted to be released, yet had no form to be set free.
He closed his eyes.
And as his awareness sank deeper, he fell into a place he had never seen before.
A dark space. Silent. Yet not empty.
There was something there.
A feeling.
An understanding… and a pressure he had yet to comprehend.
The sky in that place was dark, but not frightening.
The ground was like a shadow—unreal, but it could be walked upon.
The air… was like emotion. Trembling, but soundless.
"What is this place…?"
Li Yuan whispered in his heart.
Suddenly, a faint light appeared in the distance. It did not come from outside, but from within himself. With every step he took, the light grew stronger.
And slowly, he realized…
This was the Inner Realm.
A place where understanding settles.
A place where the Dao begins to grow—silently, in stillness, and under pressure.
And that tight feeling—it wasn't a burden.
It was insight waiting to be born.
Li Yuan sank to the ground.
Tears fell. Not from sadness, but because his soul had touched something beyond words.
He did not understand everything.
But that night… he knew, the path he would walk was no longer an ordinary one.
"Before insight becomes strength… it must be accepted, felt, and understood."
Time passed in silence.
Years drifted like morning dew, quietly evaporating without a sound.
Li Yuan was now ten years old.
Since that night—the night he touched something within himself—he had become much calmer. His speech was gentle, his eyes deeper, and his presence brought comfort, even though he never sought attention.
The villagers began to notice.
"Li Yuan… he's wise beyond his years."
"He's always quiet… but when he speaks, his words pierce the heart."
Yet no one knew that his calmness was born from the tightness and silence he had learned to endure.
Autumn arrived with winds colder than usual.
And bad news crept in like shadows in the daylight.
Ye Ling, Li Yuan's mother… passed away.
Her body had weakened, the illness she had hidden slowly consuming her life.
That day, Li Yuan simply watched in silence.
He didn't cry.
He didn't scream.
He only stood… holding his mother's hand as it grew colder.
Li Houming, his father, bowed his head, unable to hold back tears.
His lips trembled as he spoke:
"Forgive me, Yuan… I couldn't save her…"
Li Yuan answered softly:
"Mother has only returned… to the place where beginnings come from."
"She lives in every step I take."
The funeral was simple, yet filled with reverence.
Li Yuan stood without a word, carrying only a handful of wildflowers his mother used to pick every spring.
And from that moment on…
only the two of them remained.
Li Yuan and his father, Li Houming.
But in his heart, something had changed.
That loss became a new flame.
A flame that burned gently, not with anger—but with deep resolve:
"I don't know where this path will lead… but I will keep walking, so that Mother knows I'm okay."