Li Yuan sat at the peak of a hill, staring at the empty wilderness with a mix of emotions. After the initial shock of seeing no signs of human civilization, his mind began to work more rationally. Perhaps he had been too quick to assume the worst.
"Wait," Li Yuan murmured, beginning to recall important details. He communed with the water still clinging to his body, the water that had brought him up from the depths for an entire month.
"You brought me here," Li Yuan said to the water. "I didn't choose the direction."
"Yes," the water replied with an understanding tone. "We followed the natural currents, the most efficient path to bring something from the deep to the surface."
"And where was the place I first sank? Where did the ship break?"
The water trembled with a memory that Li Yuan could feel through his Water Understanding in the Wenjing realm. "Very far from here," the water answered. "Thousands of li from this coastline. You sank in the middle of a vast ocean, where the water currents carry debris and… victims… in different directions."
Li Yuan felt a deep sense of relief. Of course! He hadn't risen straight up from the point where he sank. Currents, tides, and the natural movement of the water had carried him along a complex path for the entire month it took to ascend.
"So I could be thousands of li away from the nearest civilization," Li Yuan realized.
"Exactly," the water replied. "The ocean is vast. The landmasses are separated by immense distances. It's no surprise you didn't immediately find a human settlement."
Li Yuan rose from his seated position, feeling the need to understand his situation more systematically. "Before I go anywhere, I need to know where I am," Li Yuan decided.
He fully extended his Ganjing senses—no longer limited to the usual hundred-meter radius he used for safety, but expanded to its maximum range. The spiritual sense spread out in all directions from his central position—forward, back, up, down, to every corner of a complete sphere. Like an expanding wave of consciousness, it provided incredible detail about everything within a vast radius.
Thirty kilometers.
That was the full range of his senses without the aid of water or other media. And within that radius, Li Yuan began to understand his situation with startling clarity.
He was on an island.
Not a vast continent, but a remote island with a diameter of about thirty kilometers. His spiritual senses reached the sea in every direction—north, south, east, west. There was no land bridge to a larger landmass.
"No wonder there's no human civilization here," Li Yuan realized with a sense of both relief and anxiety.
But this island wasn't simple. Through his detailed senses, Li Yuan could feel its rich and complex topography. In the middle of the island was a fairly high mountain—not massive, but enough to create its own local weather system. The mountain slopes formed fertile valleys, which were watered by small rivers originating from mountain springs. There were dense forests over most of the island, with a variety of trees and vegetation. There were more open areas that were likely natural grasslands. There were sandy beaches on some sides and rocky cliffs on others.
Most importantly, there were abundant sources of freshwater. Springs, underground aquifers, a system of small rivers, and small lakes formed from collected rainwater.
"A very habitable island," Li Yuan observed. "Enough resources to support a small community, even a simple civilization."
Li Yuan closed his eyes and focused deeper on his senses, searching for signs of life more complex than animals and plants. There was abundant wildlife—deer, wild boars, various birds, reptiles, insects. A healthy and balanced ecosystem.
But there was no trace of a human presence. No buildings, no agricultural modifications, no planned paths. And most convincingly—there were no other conscious auras on the entire island. Li Yuan was alone here.
"I will name this place Narau," Li Yuan decided spontaneously; for some reason, the name felt right for this remote but beautiful island.
"Narau," he repeated, tasting the name on his tongue. "The place where I will learn again how to live in a world with light."
With a clear understanding of his situation, Li Yuan began to make a plan. He couldn't immediately go looking for human civilization—he was in the middle of a vast ocean, days or weeks of travel from the nearest land. But perhaps that was a blessing in disguise.
"Perhaps Narau is the place I need," Li Yuan mused. "A transition zone between total isolation and full re-engagement with human society."
Li Yuan began to descend the hill, moving with a renewed purpose. But instead of just walking, he decided to truly embrace the philosophy of "flowing like water." Li Yuan relaxed his conscious control over his movements and allowed the natural tendencies of the terrain to guide his path. When the ground sloped to the left, he followed the slope. When a valley opened up, he moved toward the center where water would naturally flow.
This process was meditative and enlightening. Li Yuan began to understand the landscape in a completely new way—not as an obstacle to be overcome or a path to be chosen, but as a natural system that already contained optimal routes for movement and flow.
"This is how water thinks," Li Yuan realized as he moved through the forest with increasing ease and efficiency.
Following the natural contours of the land, Li Yuan found himself on animal trails that clearly followed the same principles. Deer, rabbits, and other creatures instinctively chose the paths that minimized effort and maximized access to resources.
"All life follows similar principles," Li Yuan observed. "Water flows to the lowest point. Animals follow the easiest path. Plants grow toward sources of light and water. Perhaps human settlements follow a similar pattern. Built in places where natural flows meet. The confluence of rivers, coastal ports, mountain passes."
With this understanding guiding his approach, Li Yuan continued his journey with the growing conviction that he was moving in the right direction, even if his specific destination wasn't yet clear.
As the day began to fade into night, Li Yuan saw the first significant source of water since leaving the coast—a small river flowing merrily through a rocky streambed. Li Yuan knelt beside the river and placed his hand in the water, using his Water Understanding to communicate with the flowing water.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Downstream, always downstream," the water replied with infectious cheerfulness. "We join other rivers, become a larger river, eventually reaching the sea. Along the way, we nourish the valleys, the forests, and anything that needs water to live."
"Have you ever seen signs of human civilization? Bridges, settlements, agricultural areas?"
The water paused from its cheerful murmur, as if considering the question carefully. "No, in all of this island, we have never encountered any trace of civilization," the water replied. "You are alone here."
Li Yuan sighed, feeling a deep sadness but also a new resolve. He was alone, but at least he knew his position.
"Alright," Li Yuan murmured. "Thank you for the information. I will return to the hill where I first arrived."
He stood and began to walk, deciding to return to the highest peak on the island to reflect and make his next plans.