The lessons continued through the turning of the seasons.
Liu Lanzhi arrived at the bench before dawn, finding the old woman already in place, waiting. A shared silence held as the sky lightened, their inhalation and exhalation the only movement in the garden, the cold pressure a constant presence beneath awareness. Liu Lanzhi learned to let the sensation be. She learned to let it stir and settle without reaching, without demanding, and without fear.
She learned the art of being still.
The boy arrived with the sunrise, his steps quick and his face bright. He climbed onto the stone beside Liu Lanzhi, and she took his hand so they could find a shared rhythm together. Concentration was evident in his serious expression; his shoulders were lower now, the air moving through him with a slower, steadier pace. The child did not ask why or what the stillness was for. He simply sat beside Liu Lanzhi and followed her lead, because she was there, and because he trusted her.
