The wind carried news.And that news fell upon ears that had once grown beside his.
Mu Yi and Fan Tu—two names that had never strayed far from Li Yuan—left everything behind.No hesitation.No questions.
Li Yuan had returned.
That old house seemed to pull at something deep within their chests.As if childhood itself was calling them home.
Their steps were light—like in the old days, running along the riverbank.But now, those steps carried bodies that had learned exhaustion,and souls that had met the world.
"Li Yuan!" Mu Yi shouted from afar.His face still bright, his eyes glowing as if hope had never left them.
Fan Tu only smiled.He didn't say much. But his stride was swift.
Li Yuan turned.Silent.But a small smile grew on his lips.
Mu Yi wrapped his arms around him.
"Still the same. Cold and quiet. But I knew it was you."
Fan Tu stood beside them, eyes just as clear as before.
"I'm not dreaming, am I?" he asked softly.
Li Yuan looked at them both—Three hearts that once grew beneath the old banyan tree,that once chased each other through rice fields,that once named stones by the river as if they were treasure.
Their feet remembered where to go—to the old river, where it all began.
The water still flowed.They sat by the bank, just like before.Mu Yi kicked off his shoes and dipped his feet in.
"Still cold," he said with a laugh."We used to think this river was so deep."
Fan Tu nodded.
"I nearly drowned here once. You saved me," he said, looking at Li Yuan.
Li Yuan said nothing for a moment.
"The river hasn't changed," he said quietly."Only we grew too far away."
Mu Yi turned, his smile softening.
"Where did you go?" he asked."Ten years. We searched for you. But even the wind left no trail."
Li Yuan watched the calm water.
"I went inward," he answered."Not north. Not south. But deep within myself."
Silence followed.
Fan Tu plucked a blade of grass and blew on it gently.
"Did you find something?"Li Yuan nodded slowly.
"But not everything can be told. Some things… can only be understood."
Mu Yi stood and looked up at the sky.
"I'm glad you're back," he said."The three of us—different paths, maybe. But still the same river."
Li Yuan closed his eyes and listened to the flow.Within that soft murmur, he heard the laughter of the past.
And there they sat, the three of them,no longer needing many words—for time had spoken more than enough.
The evening wind brushed the surface of the river.Golden light reflected softly on the faces of three men sitting by the riverbanka place where childhood memories rested in silence.
Mu Yi spoke first, his tone flat but deep.
"After you left Qinglong Academy, they trained us hard… You know, we were made into a special forces unit."
Fan Tu nodded."Our State of Qin… has been at war with Lu. Clashes kept coming. Martial arts stopped being just about learning."
Mu Yi stared at a tree trunk across the river."At the highest level of martial arts… one strike can shatter a tree. I saw it with my own eyes."
Li Yuan watched the calm water.In his heart, he whispered:
"I could shatter it… or I could make it vanish. But what is power,if not used for understanding?"
Mu Yi turned to him."We won many battles. In the last fight, Wen Zhi himself came to the field.He killed dozens. The blood fell like rain."
Fan Tu lowered his head."The academy's leaders are no longer like before. The world has changed, Li Yuan."
Li Yuan stayed silent.The wind rippled across the water's surface.
Mu Yi looked at him closely."And you? Have you kept training after leaving the academy?"
Li Yuan shook his head slowly.
"No. Not like you did," he replied."I wasn't seeking strength… I was seeking understanding."
Silence settled between them.
Fan Tu finally said,"You're still the same."
Mu Yi added,"Your steps are slow—but deep."
Li Yuan looked at the river.
A river is never in a hurry,yet it always reaches the sea.
He closed his eyes.In that silence, he felt something from the water—not power,not aura…but meaning.
At the farthest edge of Ziran Village,where the grass grew knee-high and the path was buried by time,stood an old building—weathered wood, forgotten silence, and thick layers of dust.
No one passed that way.No one remembered.No one, except Li Yuan.
He stood before the crooked wooden door,touching it gently—as if touching his own childhood.
"Why am I the only one who remembers this place?"
The door creaked softly as it opened.The scent of old wood, dust… and memory.
Long ago—before he knew what cultivation was,before he understood Qi,before the academy and the great masters—this was where he grew up.
Reading.
"I read nearly a thousand books as a child,and not one of them taught me about power.But all of them… shaped me."
Inside the old library, the wooden shelves stood silently.Some had warped.Some books were crumbling.But many still endured.
"There are still five thousand books left…"
He walked slowly down the narrow aisle between the shelves.His hand brushed across the spines,touching again the old letters that had once come alive for him.
"My teacher was right…"
The voice of an old man echoed in his memory—the voice that taught him to read.A voice that never taught him how to fight,but taught him how to see.
"These books, Li Yuan, are not about strength.They are about those who came before us—how they failed,and how they came to understand."
He sat down on the old wooden floor.Opened a worn book whose cover was nearly falling off.
The wind slipped in through a broken window.Dust swirled in the air.But within him… there was only stillness.
"They don't see this place,because they're not looking for it.They're looking for strength.I'm looking for… understanding."