Five days after leaving Shell Island, navigation became increasingly challenging.
There were no accurate maps for this area. Hassan relied on instructions from other traders—"sail three days southwest from Shell Island, look for a towering black rock, then turn south"—but such instructions were imprecise, inconsistent, and depended on weather and currents that could have changed since the last trader passed through this route.
And now, on the fifth day, they found a problem: reefs.
They weren't visible from the surface—the water was too dark, too deep to see the bottom. But Li Yuan felt them through his Water Comprehension. The water flowing around hard formations below, an unnatural pattern, a hidden danger.
"Hassan," Li Yuan called from his position at the stern. "There are reefs ahead. Not far—maybe two hundred meters."
Hassan turned quickly. "Are you sure? I don't see anything."
"I feel it in the way the water is moving."
Within the ten-meter radius, Li Yuan heard Hassan contemplating—whether to trust this passenger with his unusual ability, or to rely on his own eyes and experience.
But Hassan had learned to value Li Yuan's perception. "Lower the sails halfway! Slow the ship!"
The crew moved quickly. The ship slowed from a full sail to just a slow drift.
Hassan climbed the mast to get a better perspective. From the height, with the sunlight at the right angle, he finally saw it—a slightly different color in the water, a subtle sign of the rock formations below.
"You're right," he shouted down. "A big reef, right in our path."
He came down quickly and took the helm. "We'll navigate around it. Everyone be on alert—there might be more."
The next two hours were the most tense navigation they had experienced since the storm.
The reefs were not just one formation but a network—like fingers rising from the seabed, not high enough to reach the surface but high enough to tear the hull of a careless ship.
Li Yuan stood at the bow, directing. "Ten degrees left—there's a big formation on the right. Now straight. Wait—five degrees right, there's a narrow gap ahead."
Hassan followed his instructions without question, trusting Li Yuan's perception completely now.
Within the ten-meter radius, Li Yuan heard the crew's tension—not panic but an intense focus. Zahir with his hand on the rope, ready to adjust the sail in an instant. Bashir with eyes that never left the water. Idris with controlled but rapid breathing.
"There's a narrow path ahead," Li Yuan called out. "About twenty meters wide—enough for the ship but no room for error. Straight for one hundred meters, then a sharp left."
"One hundred meters straight, then a sharp left," Hassan repeated. "Get ready for the turn!"
The Seafarer's Star moved through the narrow path with astonishing precision—a testament to Hassan's skill and the trust between the captain and his crew.
But then, at the turn, something unexpected happened.
A current suddenly pulled—stronger than Li Yuan had predicted. The ship shifted to the right, closer to the reef formation than was safe.
"Can't fight the current!" Hassan shouted, his muscles tense as he tried to force the helm.
Li Yuan didn't think. He moved.
In an instant, he jumped into the water—his body cutting the surface with a minimal splash.
Below the surface, in the element that had become his true home since he first comprehended it, he released his Water Comprehension—not completely, not with the full force that would reveal who he really was, but enough.
He "spoke" with the current. Asking—not forcing—the water to move a little differently, to give the ship the space it needed.
And the water responded. Not dramatically—just a subtle shift in direction, a slightly weaker flow on the ship's right side.
Enough for Hassan to regain control.
The Seafarer's Star passed the turn with a few meters to spare from the sharp reefs.
Li Yuan swam back to the ship and was pulled up by Bashir and Zahir who threw him a rope.
"What did you do?!" Hassan shouted—not with anger but with alarm. "You could have died!"
Li Yuan stood on the deck, water streaming from his gray hanfu, his wet black hair still tied with a red cloth. "I saw the current was going to pull the ship onto the reef. I had to... check from up close."
Within the ten-meter radius, Li Yuan heard the crew's intentions—confusion mixed with increasingly urgent questions. How did Li Yuan swim to the right position so fast? How did he know the current would change right after he entered the water?
But Hassan—who had learned not to press for answers—just nodded with a heavy acceptance. "Thank you. You just might have saved the ship."
They finally passed the reef field as the sun began to set. Everyone was exhausted—not from the heavy physical work but from the mental tension of hours of dangerous navigation.
Hassan called for anchor. "We'll anchor here for the night. It's too dangerous to navigate in the dark with reefs like this around."
Dinner was quieter than usual. The crew ate with focus, their minds each on the day's navigation.
After dinner, Hassan called Li Yuan for a private conversation at the helm.
"What really happened in the water just now?" he asked directly.
Within the ten-meter radius, Li Yuan heard Hassan's intention—not an accusation but a need to understand. As a captain responsible for the lives of his crew, he needed to know what was happening on his ship.
Li Yuan was silent for a long time, considering how much to reveal.
"I have a... connection with water," he finally said. "Deeper than normal. I can feel it, understand it, and sometimes... ask it to move in a certain way."
"Ask. Not force."
"Never force. Water has its own will—or at least, its own laws of physics. I can't change that. But I can... communicate. Ask respectfully. And sometimes, the water responds."
Hassan looked at him for a long time. "That's cultivation, isn't it?"
Li Yuan nodded slowly. "A kind of. Not the dramatic one from the legends—I can't fly or shatter a mountain. But yes, I have cultivated an understanding of water for a... very long time."
"How long?"
"Longer than my face suggests."
Hassan nodded in acceptance. "I've been suspicious since the storm. The way you stood there, looking at the water, like you were deciding whether to intervene or not."
"I decided not to," Li Yuan said. "Because you needed to get through that storm with your own strength."
"But today you decided to intervene."
"Because this was different. This wasn't a test for you—it was just a random danger you couldn't see or predict. And I could prevent it without taking the lesson from you."
Hassan nodded slowly, digesting that logic. "I appreciate that. And I appreciate your honesty now."
He looked south, into the darkness that hid the sea and whatever was beyond it. "The crew is starting to ask more questions. Especially Idris—he's young, curious, and he's seen too many unusual things about you."
"I know."
"What will you tell them?"
Li Yuan considered. "The truth, as much as is safe for them to know. That I'm a traveler with an unusual ability. That I use that ability to help, not to harm. And that I'll be leaving the ship when we reach the Port of the Southern Winds."
"You won't go further with us?"
"I can't. The longer I stay, the more questions will arise. And some answers aren't safe to share—not because I don't trust you, but because such knowledge carries a burden."
Hassan nodded with a sad understanding. "I will miss your wisdom. And your strong hands when we need them."
"You'll be fine. You're a solid crew, and you've learned a lot in the last few months."
That night, Li Yuan couldn't meditate peacefully. Too many thoughts, too many questions about the choice he made today.
He went up to the deck to find Idris already there—it was his watch.
"Can't sleep?" Idris asked.
"Too much on my mind."
They stood together in silence for a few minutes. Then Idris spoke in a low voice.
"You're a cultivator, aren't you?"
Within the ten-meter radius, Li Yuan heard Idris's intention—not an accusation but a genuine curiosity. This young man was not afraid, just wanted to understand.
"Yes," Li Yuan admitted. "But not like in the legends."
"What's the difference?"
"Legends talk about cultivators who seek power—to conquer enemies, to live forever, to dominate others. I'm not seeking that. I'm just seeking... understanding. Of water, of the world, of how everything flows together."
Idris nodded slowly. "That sounds... better. More peaceful."
"Sometimes. But peaceful doesn't mean easy. Every day there are choices—when to use an ability, when to hold back, when to let things happen naturally even when I could change them."
"Like today?"
"Yes. I didn't want to intervene. But if I didn't, the ship might have been damaged, someone might have been hurt or worse. So I chose to act—but in the most subtle way I could, so as not to take too much away from your experience."
Idris looked at him with a newfound respect. "That's a heavy responsibility. To have power but to always have to decide when to use it."
"Yes. And it never gets easier, no matter how long you live."
They stood in silence again, listening to the gentle waves, feeling the minimal movement of the ship as the anchor held it.
"I'll miss you when you're gone," Idris finally said. "You've taught me more in these few months than anyone else has taught me in years."
"You already knew—I just helped you see what was already inside. The ability to live with uncertainty, to make choices without guarantees, to grow through challenges. It was all inside you from the start."
Idris smiled—an expression that showed a maturity he didn't have when this journey began. "Maybe. But you helped me see it."
Dawn brought a new decision from Hassan.
"We can't keep navigating through reefs like yesterday," he announced at the morning briefing. "It's too dangerous. So we'll take a longer route—sail east until we pass the reef field, then turn south again."
"That'll add maybe a week to the journey," Zahir observed.
"Yes. But it's better to be a week longer than a damaged ship or an injured crew."
Within the ten-meter radius, Li Yuan heard the crew's agreement. No one wanted to repeat yesterday's tension.
But Li Yuan also heard something else in Hassan's intention—a bigger decision was being made. This captain was starting to consider whether to continue further south at all, or to make the Port of the Southern Winds the final turning point.
This journey is changing them, Li Yuan mused as the crew prepared to sail. As it should. Every challenge, every hard choice, every moment when they had to decide between safe and brave—all of it is shaping who they become.
And I... I'm also changing. Every interaction, every community I observe, every choice about when to intervene and when to hold back—all of it deepens my understanding.
Not just about water, but about life itself. About how to flow through the world with strength but without violence, with ability but without domination.
A lesson that is never finished. That is never perfected. That must be practiced every day, in every small and big choice.
The ship sailed with a steady wind, moving away from the reef field, towards a safer but longer route.
And Li Yuan stood at the stern with the black shell from Shell Island in his hand, feeling the vibration of the very old water, listening to the stories that awaited in the south.
It wouldn't be long until they reached the Port of the Southern Winds.
And after that, he would be going alone—or find another traveler brave or crazy enough to go further.
To the place where the maps end and the mystery begins.
To the source—or to the end—of the water that had been his whole life.