Li Yuan stood alone on the beach as dawn was just breaking. The ship Hard Wave had sailed an hour before—Captain Deni giving a last worried wave before the sails were raised and the ship slowly disappeared on the horizon.
Yara was still sleeping in the small inn they had rented—one of the few places still operating in this nearly-dead port city.
But Li Yuan couldn't sleep. Never really could. So he came to the beach, letting the sound of the waves fill the silence in his mind.
He knelt at the water's edge, letting his fingers touch the cold surface. And through his Comprehension of Water—the only comprehension that resides in the Wenjing Realm—he heard the stories carried by the sea.
Stories of islands connected by currents. Stories of ships sailing in military formation, carrying cargo that was not trade but plunder. Stories of cries absorbed by the water—the cries of children taken, the cries of mothers who lost, the cries of men who could not protect their families.
And in the midst of all those stories, Li Yuan heard something deeper—the reason why the call had brought him south, why he felt a pull that could not be ignored.
Water flows to the lowest place, he mused with an understanding that was slowly crystallizing. Not because it wants to, but because it is its nature. It seeks the place where it is most needed, where its absence would leave the deepest void.
And I—who have made water my Core Consciousness, who have walked for fifteen thousand years with the principle of flowing around obstacles rather than destroying them—I was called here not by a dramatic fate or a divine mission.
I was called because this is the place where the comprehension of water is most needed. Where gentle flexibility and perseverance might be able to change something that violence would only make worse.
He closed his eyes and let his Wenjing consciousness flow deeper into the water—not forcing, just listening with a focused intensity.
And what he heard made the picture clearer.
The Sea Emperor—the name he had heard whispered with fear throughout the island—was not just one pirate leader. He was a system. A network of ships and captains operating under the same flag, who shared the spoils, who used fear as their most effective weapon.
But there was something else too. Through the water that had touched their ships, that had washed the bloodstained decks, Li Yuan heard fragments of the pirates' intentions.
Some were true predators—people who enjoyed the power and the suffering they caused. But others... others were trapped people. Former fishermen who lost their livelihoods due to overfishing or war. Former merchants who lost everything in a storm or a raid. People who chose the life of a pirate not out of malice, but out of desperation.
Complexity, Li Yuan mused. There is always complexity. Even in a situation that seems black and white, there are shades of gray that must be understood if a true solution is to be found.
He opened his eyes and looked at the sun that was slowly rising from the sea—a light that turned the water from black to dark blue to a sparkling aquamarine.
Three days, he reminded himself. Three days to understand, to listen, to find a leverage point where a small intervention could change the system without destroying it.
Because destroying is easy. Water can become a tsunami that levels everything. But that is not the path of Daojing. The path of Daojing is to erode, to shape, to flow—letting time and perseverance do the work that violence cannot.
He stood up and turned from the beach, already making initial plans in his mind.
First step: talk to the islanders. Not just hear their fear, but understand the structure of their community, who their leaders are, what their remaining strengths are.
Second step: when the pirates come in three days, observe carefully. See how they operate, who leads, what the weaknesses in their system are.
Third step... that would depend on what he learned in the first and second steps.
Water doesn't plan the entire river from source to mouth, he mused as he walked back to the city. It just flows from one rock to the next, finding its way by responding to what it finds, not by forcing a predetermined route.
I will do the same.
He found Yara already awake when he returned to the inn—sitting at a small table with an old and worn map spread out in front of her.
"I talked to some locals this morning," she said without lifting her head from the map. "People are more willing to talk when they see the Hard Wave has gone—they know I stayed on purpose, which means I'm not just a traveler passing through."
"What did you learn?" Li Yuan asked, sitting across from her.
"The Sea Emperor—his real name is Hakeem—was once a military captain in the northern kingdom. Lost his position in a political coup about ten years ago. Instead of accepting exile, he took his ship and crew, became a pirate." Yara pointed to a few islands on the map. "He built his fleet by recruiting desperate or angry people—former soldiers, bankrupt fishermen, even some escaped slaves."
As she spoke, Li Yuan heard through his Wenjing Realm the intention behind her words—not just the delivery of information, but also an internal conflict. A part of Yara understood how someone could become Hakeem—how desperation could turn a person into a predator.
"How many ships?" Li Yuan asked.
"Reports vary. Between twelve to fifteen large ships, maybe twenty small ones. A total of about five hundred to seven hundred people."
Li Yuan nodded slowly. A daunting number to fight directly—but not impossible if the right approach was used.
"And the other islands? Do they also pay tribute?"
"Nine islands in this archipelago, all under Hakeem's control." Yara traced a finger on the map. "Some are bigger than Kesara, some are smaller. Total population might be ten thousand people—all living in fear."
"Has anyone ever tried to fight back?"
Yara nodded with a grim face. "Mahara Island—the biggest one—tried to rebel three years ago. They gathered all their fishing boats, tried to attack one of Hakeem's ships."
"What happened?"
"Hakeem burned half of their village. Killed all the men involved in the rebellion in front of their families. And took all the children over ten years old as a 'rebellion tax'." Yara's voice broke a little. "No one has ever tried to fight back since then."
When she recounted this, Li Yuan heard through his Wenjing Realm more than just the words—he heard a deep anger, sadness for the lost children, and a fear that Yara didn't want to admit: that Mina might have been one of those children.
Li Yuan was silent for a moment, letting the information settle. Then he said in a voice that was calm but carried weight:
"Direct violence won't work. Hakeem has proven that he is stronger in open battle. And even if I could—" he chose his words carefully, "—defeat them in some way, it would only create a power vacuum. Another pirate would come, or Hakeem would be replaced by someone even worse."
Yara looked at him with sharp eyes. "So what are you proposing? Just accepting this situation?"
"No. I'm proposing understanding it more deeply before acting." Li Yuan looked at the map, seeing the patterns in the archipelago—the currents that connected the islands, the distance between them, the strategic locations. "Water doesn't fight a rock with violence. It flows around it, finds the cracks, slowly erodes until the rock changes or crumbles from within."
"You and your water metaphors," Yara said in a tone that was a mix of frustration and something akin to affection. "Sometimes, Li Yuan, you talk as if you've lived a thousand years and seen everything."
Li Yuan smiled gently—a smile that carried a sadness that Yara couldn't fully comprehend.
"Perhaps I have just walked long enough to see the same patterns repeat. And to learn—sometimes the painful way—that the most obvious solutions often create bigger problems than they solve."
Yara looked at him in a long silence. Then she sighed and nodded.
"Alright. Three days. I'll follow your approach for three days. But Li Yuan—" her voice became firmer, "—if at the end of those three days, we don't have a real plan, I'm going to do something. Even if it means dying trying."
When she said this, Li Yuan heard through his Wenjing Realm an absolute determination—this was not an empty threat or impulsive words. Yara was truly willing to die if it meant there was a chance to find or avenge her sister.
"I understand," Li Yuan said with simplicity. "And I promise you—by the end of three days, we will have a plan. Maybe not a perfect plan, maybe not an easy one, but a plan that has a chance to truly change something."
Yara nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer.
And as they sat together in the small room, planning the next days, Li Yuan felt something familiar—the feeling of standing on the edge of something big, something that could go very wrong or very right depending on the choices made in the coming hours.
Water finds the lowest place, he mused again. And I have come here because this is the place where the comprehension of water is most needed.
But what will happen when the water reaches that place? Does it fill the void gently, or does it flood, destroying everything in its path?
That will depend on how I choose to flow.
And in three days, I will know.