The days of quiet reflection and sparring in the Deep Water nagerie had a profound, grounding effect on Li Yu. The conspiracies and factions had taken up enough of his ti for now; he decided to spend his remaining days of rest reconnecting not just with his own heart, but continuing to reconnect with the friends.
He sought out the people he had started with, the ones who had known him when he was just a quiet, unassuming boy in charge of the sect’s most neglected departnt. He found Brother Kai, now a senior manager of the nagerie, along with Hu Jian and Lin Tao from their original team, overseeing the care of a new shipnt of beasts. He also found Uncle Wei, now a respected elder in the Deep Water nagerie.
They t in a quiet courtyard. They did not speak of grand strategies or continental wars. They spoke of the beasts, of how the nagerie was flourishing, of the new trade routes Uncle Wei had opened. Li Yu listened, offering advice on a particularly stubborn species of spirit turtle and sharing so of his own, less dangerous travel stories. It was a simple conversation, a reminder of the life and the people he was connected to.
As they parted ways, he gave them a gentle warning. “The world is growing more dangerous,” he told them, his expression serious for a mont. “Be careful. Strengthen your cultivation, and look out for one another.” They promised they would, their hearts ward by his continued care for them.
That afternoon, Li Yu did sothing he hadn't done in a very long ti. He went to the small building near the nagerie that had once been his clinic and hung an old, hand-carved sign back on the door. It read simply: The Quiet Physician.
He announced to a few passing outer court disciples that his clinic was open for the afternoon. The news, at first, spread by word of mouth. A few disciples trickled in, their faces a mixture of hope and disbelief that the Quiet Physician was truly back. But as the first few beasts were healed with his uncanny skill, the trickle beca a stream, and then a flood. By the end of the first hour, a long, orderly line had ford, stretching all the way down the path.
He spent the entire afternoon working, and it brought him a profound sense of calm and furthered his skills. Not all of the beasts had aquatic bloodlines and for the ones that didn’t he had to use his skills to figure it out.
His approach was ticulous. For a disciple’s Glimrfin Fish, a beast with an aquatic bloodline, the process was simple. He could vaguely communicate with it, sensing its distress and the spiritual energy blockage in its gills almost instinctively. A gentle application of his own pure Koi Qi, and the fish was swimming vigorously once more.
But for a non-aquatic beast, like a junior disciple’s Fla-mane Lion Cub that was suffering from a strange spiritual lethargy, the process was different. He could not communicate with it. He had to rely on the pure, honed skills of a beast physician. He carefully observed the cub’s breathing, checked the flow of its spiritual energy with a delicate touch, and asked the nervous disciple a series of detailed questions about its diet and training.
After a period of careful diagnosis, he identified a subtle imbalance in its fire-aspected core, likely caused by consuming an incompatible spirit herb. He prescribed a specific, cooling dicinal paste and a strict dietary regin.
He was able to solve most of the issues that ca before him, his years of experience and profound understanding of life force guiding his hands. But he was not all-knowing. An elder brought him an ancient, three-headed spirit hound whose central head was suffering from a slow, creeping paralysis of unknown origin.
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Li Yu spent nearly an hour examining the beast, his brow furrowed in concentration, but ultimately had to shake his head. “I am sorry, Elder,” he said honestly. “The malady is rooted deep within its soul, in a way I do not yet understand. I can prescribe a treatnt to slow the progression, but I cannot offer a cure.”
This experience, this simple act of healing and helping, of succeeding through skill and sotis failing despite it were learning opportunities.
He decided to take this “healing tour” on the road. He took Cyra, who was happy for a trip away from the sect, and Jian Xuan, and they visited Sunken Treasure City again. He opened his clinic at the harbor for a few days, and the scene repeated itself.
The people there were overjoyed to have him back, gifting him small, delicious fish and other strange, beautiful creatures they had caught. He enjoyed the peace this all brought, the sight of people’s happy faces and the satisfaction of being able to help them.
Jian Xuan observed all of this from the side, a silent, stoic shadow. He simply watched Li Yu. He watched the patience in his hands as he treated a wounded beast. He watched the genuine, unforced smile he gave to a grateful fisherman. He had seen this side of Li Yu throughout their journey—the simple enjoynt of good food, the curiosity in a bustling market, the quiet appreciation of a sunset.
At first, he had been confused, seeing it as a distraction. But now, after witnessing Li Yu for a long ti and seeing him return to these simple, gentle acts, the pieces were slowly starting to click into place. He was slowly understanding more and more.
On their last evening in the city, as they sat on the roof of their rented building, watching the moon rise over the tranquil sea, Jian Xuan finally spoke, his voice no longer one of confusion, but of genuine, contemplative curiosity.
“Young Master,” he began, his voice a low rumble. “I have been watching you. Your ti is invaluable. Your potential is high. And yet, you choose to spend your days on these… small matters. I am beginning to see, but I must ask… why?”
Li Yu looked at the moon, a quiet, peaceful smile on his face. “Waste ti?” he repeated softly. “Jian Xuan, this is one of the least wasteful things I do.”
He turned to look at the powerful, ancient swordsman. “It brings peace and enjoynt,” he said, his voice simple and honest. “The world is full of conflict and sches. My life is full of battles and secrets. But here, when I heal a fisherman’s cormorant, when I see the look of relief on a child’s face because their pet is going to be okay… that is real. That is simple. I am enjoying myself, doing things that I want to do because I can. Is there any greater purpose to strength than to allow you the freedom to do that?”
He then fixed his calm, clear gaze on Jian Xuan, and his next question was not a statent, but a genuine inquiry and curiosity.
“But what about you, Jian Xuan?” he asked, his voice soft but piercing. “You have been cultivating your strength for centuries. You have beco one of the most powerful n in the world. Why?”
Jian Xuan was taken aback by the directness of the question.
“What did you want to do?” Li Yu continued, his voice gentle but relentless. “What were the things you did for happiness, for your own enjoynt? What was the reason you were getting strong for?”
The questions, so simple on the surface, struck Jian Xuan with the force of a revelation. He had no answer. He had never even thought to ask. His life had been a singular, relentless pursuit of the next realm, the next level of power.
The goal had always been more strength. To be the strongest, to be unmatched. But what for? What would he do with that strength, once he had it? He had never considered a world beyond the next breakthrough.
Li Yu’s questions hung in the quiet, salty air of the port city, a profound and deeply unsettling challenge to the very foundation of Jian Xuan’s centuries-long existence. He was left in a stunned, contemplative silence, the tranquil surface of his own dao heart now deeply and irrevocably disturbed.
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