Li Yuan began to move slowly from a depth of thirty thousand meters.
His consciousness body moved with a natural grace through the water, not needing swimming motions like a biological creature. He only had to will a direction, and the surrounding water would help facilitate his movement with gentle yet steady currents.
Twenty-nine thousand meters.
Li Yuan began to feel a subtle change in the water pressure. Although the difference was minimal at this depth, his expanded Ganjing sensing could detect the most subtle gradations.
The water was still warm from its proximity to the earth's crust, but the warmth was beginning to fade slightly. The density of the water was also starting to decrease—just a little, but enough to be felt by a consciousness trained for thousands of years.
"You are leaving the deepest depths," the surrounding water whispered. "From now on, every meter upwards will bring change."
Li Yuan nodded in silence. He understood that the journey to the surface would be a gradual transition from the extreme to the normal, from isolation to the possibility of life.
Twenty-five thousand meters.
The changes became more noticeable. The crushing pressure began to lessen slightly, though it was still extraordinarily intense by biological standards. The warmth from the earth's crust was now almost gone.
Li Yuan expanded his sensing again, searching for the first signs of life. Still none. This depth was still too extreme to support any form of biological existence.
But there was something different in the water consciousness around him.
"The water here has met water from higher levels," Li Yuan realized through his Wenjing communication.
"Yes," the water replied. "We carry stories. Not many, because the exchange of water at these depths is very slow. But over geological timescales, there is a very gradual mixing."
"What stories do you carry?"
"Whispers from levels where light can still penetrate. Echoes from places where life moves and breathes. Memories of the surface where there is interaction with the atmosphere."
Li Yuan felt a subtle excitement. Although still far from an encounter with actual life, at least he was beginning to receive indirect news about the living world above.
Twenty thousand meters.
At this depth, Li Yuan began to feel more distinct currents. The water was no longer moving in a pattern purely dictated by geological forces. There was movement that indicated more complex circulation patterns.
"Deep water currents," Li Yuan recognized. "Water from various regions of the earth that mixes at this level."
Through his Water Understanding in the Wenjing realm, Li Yuan could "hear" the origins of different streams of water meeting at this depth. Water from cold and dense polar regions. Water from equatorial regions that had been warm. Water from different ocean basins that carried distinct mineral signatures.
This is a cosmic meeting point where water from all over the planet eventually converges and exchanges stories.
Li Yuan felt himself at a cosmic crossroads where water from the entire planet eventually converges and exchanges stories.
"Tell me about the world above," Li Yuan requested of the mixed waters around him.
Stories began to flow into his consciousness:
Water from the Arctic that carried memories of ice sheets gleaming under the midnight sun. Water from tropical seas that were warm with abundant life. Water from deep trenches where strange creatures lived in eternal darkness.
But there was still no direct encounter with life.
Fifteen thousand meters.
Here, the water temperature began to show a clear stratification. Li Yuan could feel distinct layers with different characteristics. There were thermoclines—boundaries where the temperature changed dramatically over a relatively short distance.
"This indicates that I am approaching levels where solar influence becomes relevant," Li Yuan realized.
Although sunlight still couldn't penetrate to a depth of fifteen thousand meters, the indirect effects of solar heating on surface waters were beginning to be felt in the form of complex temperature gradients.
Li Yuan began to expand his sensing in a more systematic pattern, scanning for any signs of biological activity.
Still nothing.
But the water consciousness at this level carried stories that were far richer and more immediate about life at higher levels.
"We recently carried nutrients from above," the water whispered. "Fragments of organic matter that sank from zones where life flourishes. Microscopic remains of creatures that lived and died in waters where light still reaches."
"Marine snow," Li Yuan recognized the term for the organic debris that constantly rained down from the productive layers above.
Ten thousand meters.
At this depth, Li Yuan felt a dramatic change.
The water temperature dropped drastically—almost freezing at 1-4 degrees Celsius, though it didn't turn to ice due to the immense pressure. The darkness was still absolute, as sunlight could never penetrate from the surface.
But what was most surprising—Li Yuan began to feel life.
Through his Ganjing sensing, Li Yuan detected an unmistakable presence. Living creatures. After four thousand years in an absolute dead zone, this encounter felt like a miracle.
Extremophile microorganisms.
The first he felt was microscopic life—bacteria and archaea that somehow managed to survive in these extreme conditions. They moved in very slow patterns, their metabolism adapted to near-freezing temperatures and crushing pressure.
"Incredible," Li Yuan whispered in awe. "Life finds a way to exist even here."
Then his sensing caught something bigger.
Small shrimp moving with very careful motions.
Their bodies were flexible, adapted to extreme pressure. The enzymes in their bodies had evolved to remain functional in near-freezing temperatures. And most astonishingly—some of them had bioluminescence, creating tiny spots of light in the eternal darkness.
Light in the darkness.
Li Yuan felt a profound emotion seeing this phenomenon. In an environment that seemed hostile to all forms of life, these creatures not only survived but created beauty in the form of their own light.
Small transparent fish moving like ghosts in the water.
Their bodies were almost invisible, adapted for perfect camouflage in the dark environment. They moved with incredible efficiency, every movement calculated to conserve energy in an ecosystem where food was very scarce.
And then—something that truly stunned Li Yuan.
A deep-sea octopus.
The intelligent creature moved with a hypnotic grace through the water. Its flexible tentacles provided amazing mobility in a challenging environment. And like many creatures at this depth, it also had bioluminescence—patterns of light that changed like a conversation in the language of light.
Li Yuan floated in wonder, watching these extraordinary creatures go about their lives in an extreme environment. They had found ways to not just survive, but to thrive in conditions that would be impossible for most life forms.
Five thousand meters.
At this depth, Li Yuan's Ganjing sensing began to detect something subtle but unmistakable.
Chemical traces.
Not life itself, but the byproducts of biological processes happening at higher levels. Dissolved oxygen, complex carbon compounds, trace elements that indicated metabolic activity happening somewhere above.
"I'm starting to smell life," Li Yuan smiled at the amusing metaphor, remembering he didn't actually have a physical sense of smell in his consciousness body.
But his spiritual sensing provided an analogous awareness—the ability to detect the distinct signatures of biological existence.
Li Yuan continued his ascent with growing excitement. After prolonged isolation, the prospect of interacting with other life—no matter how simple—felt like approaching a reunion with long-lost friends.
The journey from solitude to community, from contemplation to engagement, from depth to diversity, continued with every meter upwards.