"Dong!... Woo!... Hum!!"
The vastness of the North Sea is such that a day and night's voyage is like measuring a single hair on the colossal form of the Buddha. The resonating sound of the Dharma conch occasionally echoes among the Tiantai Fleet, directing the customs ships to carve orderly arcs through the waters, as lively as if they were living beings.
When this sound penetrated into the sturdy cabin of the "Lotus Flower Maru," Master Juehui, who was sitting cross-legged in meditation, had his eyelids drooping, seemingly oblivious. Amid the tumultuous waves, he had entered deep meditation during the most turbulent of voyages.
"Om, Anari, Pisheti, Bisheti, Pisheti, Bisheti..."
