There was a very small island in the middle of nowhere out in the sea. The island was very small, it could even be considered an islet.
There was a small village on the island. There were many rough wooden shafts here and there. The sound of children's laughter and loud deep voices travelled through the village.
The village was not big, it only housed around 30 people. There were men and women, old and young. The village looked like a mortal village one could find in any part of the world.
The thick stench of the sea assaulted the noses of everyone in the village, yet they seemed used to it.
There was one wooden shaft in particular to which every villager sent curious glances, it was small and looked similar to the other houses. However, inside was Tang Yin.
He lay on a crude bed which looked like it would break at any moment. There was not much inside the wooden hut, except for a small table and chair beside the bed.
