Japan, near the cliff, tranquility prevailed upon the reef, and the azure sea spread like a blue satin ribbon from before the eyes to the horizon.
On a pitch-black rock, an emaciated elder in Qing Yi sat cross-legged, holding a bamboo pole in hand. The pole slanted towards the front as if he were fishing.
However, upon closer inspection, one could see that there was no fishing line on the tip of his bamboo pole. He sat there motionless, as if he had never moved an inch, resembling a stone carving, blending naturally into the surrounding rocks. If one did not look carefully, it would be difficult to discern his figure.
This was a deserted sea area, within a hundred miles declared by the government as a nuclear leakage restricted zone.
On the endless coastline, only this gaunt elder sat there, unknowing of how long he had been there, as though he had always been there, seemingly becoming part of the coastline itself.