Layers of clouds resembled light ink, pushed by the cold wind, slowly approaching from the Northern Country's horizon towards the southern sky. A faint shadow enveloped the northern waters, gradually covering the longship by the shore.
The way ahead was filled with low-hanging shadows, like the deep abyss beneath Buddha's gaze. Several dozen Japanese, Korean craftsmen, some chanting scriptures with devotion, some crying in despair, stumbled along or sacrificed themselves to the tiger. In this manner they crossed the Korobetsu River, traversed the Ezo lands of Luwei and wild grass, bidding farewell to all that was past, and boarded the Shandan sea boat akin to the Sanzu River. Those cries echoing from afar prompted the compassionate Master Juehui to lower his eyelids and let out a soft sigh.
