Li Yuan sat in the stillness of the Realm of Questions, but his mind began to wander to a frightening possibility.
What if I fully released the wrapping?
Not because he intended to—Li Yuan already understood the consequences too well. But his intellectual curiosity couldn't help but imagine what would happen if that 100,000-kilometer radius were truly unleashed.
The passive effect doesn't just spread horizontally.
Li Yuan realized something he hadn't fully considered before. Spiritual resonance did not follow normal physical laws. His passive effect didn't spread like waves on the surface of water, but radiated in all directions—up, down, forward, backward, sideways, in a perfect three-dimensional sphere.
One hundred thousand kilometers in all directions.
Li Yuan tried to visualize that scale. If he were on the surface of the earth, his passive effects would pierce the atmosphere and spread far into space. Upwards, his resonance would reach heights far beyond where birds fly, beyond the clouds, beyond the thin layers of air.
Downwards, the effect would penetrate the ground, pass through rock layers, and might even reach the earth's core.
And most surprisingly—I would be able to feel everything.
The realization hit Li Yuan like lightning. The passive effect wasn't just about influencing the environment—the passive effect also meant an expanded sense. Within a 100,000-kilometer radius, he would be able to feel every detail with incredible clarity.
More details than I can see with the naked eye.
Li Yuan imagined how overwhelming the experience would be. Every bird flying within that radius. Every fish swimming in the sea. Every human breathing, moving, thinking. Every plant growing. Every stone lying still.
But this wasn't like seeing directly with his eyes. This was feeling—a much more profound sensing yet limited to the relaxed surface.
If there was a tree within that radius, he would feel its detailed form—every branch, every leaf, every curve of its bark. But not the tree's interior, not what was inside its trunk.
Spiritual sensing worked in a different way from physical sight. Li Yuan would feel the outer surface of everything—the contours, shapes, textures, the energy radiated—but not penetrate to the internal structures.
It was like feeling with a very sensitive spiritual skin.
Everything would be felt with perfect clarity, simultaneously, yet still within the boundary of the relaxed surface—not X-ray vision that penetrated inwards, but a comprehensive awareness of the exterior of everything.
The incoming information would far exceed a normal capacity to process.
But then Li Yuan remembered something that made him feel a little calm—though also more amazed.
The Memory Understanding.
The understanding that allowed him to store and access memories with incredible detail. Even before he created his Daojing, Li Yuan already had an unusual memory ability. He could read an entire book just by glancing at its pages, and everything would be perfectly recorded in his memory.
Every detail would be stored in the Memory Zhenjing.
Li Yuan focused his attention on the landscape of his Memory Understanding in his inner world. The space looked like a boundless library, with shelves stretching in all directions, containing records of every moment he had ever experienced.
And the space continued to grow. Every second, every breath, every new experience was added with perfect organization.
If I release the 100,000-kilometer radius, all the information from that area will be stored here.
Li Yuan tried to imagine the volume of that information. Not just visual—but also emotional, spiritual, energy, resonance, the small changes in every living thing and inanimate object within that radius.
Every heartbeat. Every gust of wind. Every drop of dew that formed. Every thought that passed through a human mind.
And all of it would be stored with perfect detail, accessible whenever Li Yuan needed it.
It's like becoming a cosmic consciousness that records everything that happens.
Li Yuan felt a mix of awe and horror imagining that possibility. Becoming a universal witness to life in such a vast radius—seeing birth and death, happiness and sadness, love and hate, all simultaneously and with perfect detail.
But is that something an individual consciousness can bear?
Li Yuan pondered the fundamental nature of individual consciousness. Was there a limit to how much reality a single soul could hold without losing its sense of self?
Perhaps that's why the Wrapping Understanding is so important.
Not just to protect the world from his passive effects, but also to protect himself from the overwhelming information that would come if he truly released all his filters.
100,000 kilometers of perfect and simultaneous sensory information.
Li Yuan tried to imagine what it would feel like to live with that much awareness. Would he still feel like "Li Yuan"? Or would he become something different—a consciousness too vast to be considered an individual?
Maybe there's a level of cultivation where individual consciousness must transcend into something greater.
But Li Yuan didn't feel ready for such a massive transformation yet. He still liked his identity as Li Yuan—a person who could love personally, who could feel longing, who could laugh and cry as an individual.
There's a beauty in limitation.
The realization came with an unexpected calm. Perhaps true wisdom isn't about always expanding consciousness without limits, but about knowing when that expansion is beneficial and when limitation is necessary to maintain humanity.
I have a choice.
Li Yuan could choose to release the wrapping and become a cosmic awareness covering 100,000 kilometers. Or he could choose to maintain the 1-meter radius and remain an individual who could interact with the world on a human scale.
And for now, I choose to remain human.
A human who possessed incredible abilities, but was still human. Still able to sit with a small child like Lila and feel the simple joy of seeing her smile. Still able to feel the warmth of Anna's embrace. Still able to laugh at Marcus's stories.
Consciousness expansion isn't always about becoming bigger. Sometimes it's about choosing to remain relatable.
Li Yuan felt a deep peace with this choice. In a spiritual world where many pursued boundless power and expansion, he chose to value human connection and individual experience.
The 100,000 kilometers will always be an option. But that option doesn't have to be taken now—or perhaps ever.
In the Realm of Questions, surrounded by the perfect record of every moment he had ever experienced, Li Yuan felt gratitude for the gift he had—and the wisdom to know when not to use it.
The unlimited vision is a beautiful possibility. But a limited vision with love is a beautiful reality.