Li Yuan sat in stillness at the center of the room.An old table stood before him,and upon it lay a black book devoid of ink.
Its pages were blank,yet it felt heavy not from weight,but from meaning yet to be written.
The old scholar no longer spoke.He stood in the corner of the room,motionless, breathless,like a statue carved by time itself.
But Li Yuan knew…he was no statue.He was a symbol.
"This is not about who he is,"Li Yuan thought,"but about what he left behind."
This room,this book,his presence—were all reflectionsof a new kind of understanding.
An understanding that:
not all answers are written in ink,
not all comprehension is born of words,
and not all lessons come from voices.
Sometimes…silence is the deepest teacher.
Li Yuan turned to the second page.Still blank.But in his mind,a single sentence formed:
"True understanding is not about knowing,but about accepting that you do not yet know."
He smiled.
In this world,perhaps this truly was the Realm of Questions.And this book—was its body.
The scholar slowly began to fade,like morning mist dissolving into light.
But he did not truly leave.He had become part of the room.Part of the book.And, in the end…part of Li Yuan.
"This book will remain empty,until you write your understanding within it.Not with ink…but with your life."
And as Li Yuan closed the book,his inner world trembled—gently.
A new space had formed—a space without walls,one that could only be filledby honest questions.
Li Yuan's steps touched the ground lightly.He stepped out of the old room,leaving behind the figure of the scholar,leaving the inkless bookyet carrying something new within himself.
The outside air felt different.The bustle of the city returned.But this time,it wasn't just noiseit was time, moving forward.
Li Yuan walked toward the heart of Wuyin City,and arrived at a place he hadn't noticed before:
The Market of Time.
A strange name for a marketplace.But as soon as he stepped foot there,he understood
This was no ordinary market.
People weren't just selling goods.They were selling memories.Selling stories.Selling things that had been lived and felt.
Someone sold a broken clock,with a sign that read:
"This clock stopped when I lost her."
Another offered worn-out shoes,with a hand-painted tag:
"These walked through mountains and monsoon rains."
Li Yuan paused at one stall.An old woman sat behind a table,and in front of her lay a crumpled piece of paper.
"What is this?" Li Yuan asked.
"It's unused time," the old woman replied.
"Can it be bought?"
"No need to buy it.You only need to remembera time you wasted your life—and this paper will belong to you."
Li Yuan fell silent.
This market was not about objects,but about the meaning hidden withinmoments that had passed.
"Perhaps… understanding also grows from lost time,"he thought.
And amid the hum of trade,the laughter, the haggling voices,Li Yuan heard a whisper from deep within:
"Do not only seek to understand water or stillness.Understand time—for time is the breath of the world."
He sat on a wooden benchin the center of the market.
His eyes swept across every direction.He wasn't searching for anything.He simply let time pass around him.
And when he finally stood again,he felt:
He had learned something.
And as he left the Market of Time,his inner world trembled once more.A new understanding began to grow—about time, about loss,and about the meaningbehind each step.
Li Yuan walked away from the Market of Time.But his steps felt heavy not from fatigue,but because something within him was calling himto look back.
Not literally,but back into the past back to his childhood.
The sky over Wuyin was overcast.The wind carried the scent of old woodand rain yet to fall.
And in a quiet pocket of the city,Li Yuan suddenly saw himself
A child, running among the trees.
"That's me..." he whispered.
The boy wasn't truly there.Yet Li Yuan could see him clearly.Wearing worn clothes.Hugging his knees beneath a tree.Laughing as the rain fell.Crying alone at night.Sleeping beside a firethat never truly warmed him.
"I never thought I'd come this far."
"Back then, all I wanted was to eat each day and not get sick.""I never imagined I would come to know understanding, breath,or even the inner realms of the self."
Those footprints had never been visible to others.But within him,they had formed a path—a quiet road,paved with wounds,but also with perseverance.
Li Yuan closed his eyes.He took a deep breath.
"Sometimes, to understand where we must go...we must remember where we come from."
And within his inner world,something began to rise—Not water.Not stillness.Not doctrine.
But something older:
Gratitude.Formless.Profound.
And that gratitude merged with his understanding.
Li Yuan's steps grew light once more.He walked without haste.He walked with knowing.
One truth settled within him from today's journey:
"The footprints of my childhood, though unseen,were the first path that shaped me."