The evening sky of the Anhui province shone as dimly as a tired man's eyes after a long day of work.
But that dim light seemed almost ephemeral as it reflected off of the rocky surfaces of the vast mountain range below.
At the very top of that mountain sat a massive man, his bald head reflected the dim sunlight of the setting sun just as nicely as the peaks around him did, his thick grey beard and moustache swayed in the wind.
He was only dressed in a pair of orange pants and sandals. There was no garment on his back to protect him from the wind which continued building up.
The bald man meditated there, hoping his bare chest would bear his heart to the elements. In the process, he showcased his chiselled torso filled with scars to the heavens above.
Scratches, cuts, and even what looked like bullet wounds, now all healed adorned the man's body, telling a story that was better off left unsaid.
His hands were brought together in prayer, and around his neck were large Mala beads, each at least as big as a grown man's hand.
The stoic monk slowly opened his eyes, his breath slowing as he tried to feel his surroundings.
That man was none other than Luke Griffiths. And he was facing a rather unusual problem... "Why... Why am I unable to feel anything while meditating?"
He asked himself that question many times...
In his mind, it all stemmed down to his past. The man that he used to be.
A deplorable waste of breath.
A piece of shit that didn't even deserve a moment of attention from anyone.
And it wasn't that he had problems with self-confidence...
It was just that he had done many things he wasn't proud of, he was a murderer and a thief. He had killed for pleasure, for survival, out of anger...
At some point, his mind had regained its clarity and he felt like a completely different person. It felt as if he had woken up in a stranger's body.
He ended up as a stray, fleeing to China in hopes of starting a new life, only to get stuck there.
His sins were irredeemable, and he hadn't even begun to forgive himself for them even after all of those years...
And he had been caught in a dastardly cycle of hatred, one that he couldn't escape. Not by himself.
That was when 'he' entered the picture...
Abbot Fang Yangling. An old man that was, by all accounts, wise and benevolent.
He had found Luke in a random alleyway, within the backstreets of Anhui, starving and injured, bitten by dogs.
The old Abbot only huffed when seeing him, without any hesitation, he slung the injured Luke over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and proceeded to carry him away...
The old man showcased his endurance and strength, as he carried a grown man on his shoulders while climbing up the countless steps of the mountain, clearly heading towards the Temple at the very peak of it.
By the time he climbed the mountain and reached the temple, the old man was only slightly winded, and the other monks immediately rushed to assist him.
That was the start of Luke's journey as a monk.
And he thankfully recovered successfully from his injuries, all without any complications.
After a few months with proper nutrition and hardcore training, he quickly started being called, Samanera Niu, or Fledgeling Monk Niu (The Ox), due to his large stature, being at least two heads taller than even the tallest monk they had.
And in his time at the temple, he managed to rebuild his life completely.
But he couldn't quite give up on worldly possessions fully, so he was allowed to keep a few belongings.
Namely, an old phone, a wallet, and the old clothes that he had come into the temple with.
The wallet and clothes were reminders of where he came from. But the phone was different. He used it for reading. And he used it a lot.
Besides training every day alongside his Seniors and the other Monks, he also spent his time reading more and more Eastern fantasy novels and books, as well as classic literature.
He tried his best to understand more and more about the culture of the beautiful place he was now living in, and he grew to love it dearly.
But not all was perfect.
Besides the slow internet and faulty reception, there was also the fact that he could never quite get to the point where he attained proper enlightenment, he could never meditate as easily as the other monks around him.
Years passed, then a decade.
His nickname didn't change, nor did his ranking as a fledgling monk, as he found it difficult to follow all of the 10 Precepts of the monks.
In particular, he found it difficult to renounce his worldly belongings.
He felt that, by giving them up, he would also in turn forget where he had come from. He feared that his past tendencies would appear once more...
Despite his rank remaining the same, his reputation did change. He received an informal title amongst the monks... The Great Ox.
His proficiency in fighting and talent in martial arts led to him being considered the best instructor within the temple, said to be on par with the Abbot in his younger days.
But spiritually, he couldn't quite further his standing and become a fully-fledged monk at that time.
And eventually, it happened...
The old Abbot finally gave his last breath, spending his last moments in deep meditation after teaching the young monks, as he had done for the majority of his life.
115 years. It was not a short life by any means, but for a man who lived like the Abbot, it was understandable.
To his last breath, he had lived his life active. He disliked sitting still, and he despised slacking off.
Hell, most people expected to find him dead in the horse stance...
But he was also very spiritual, so it was just as fitting that he had passed whilst meditating in silence.
His body was buried ceremoniously in that same position. And Luke, or Niu, didn't even know how to grieve such a loss.
He was simply not used to loss of any kind.
So, he decided to dedicate the rest of his life to carrying on the legacy of the man who had saved his life.
To live his life to the fullest, and help guide the Young Monks on their paths to enlightenment much like Abbot Fang Yongliang had done in his time. And that was where he found himself now.
A 50-year-old man, meditating on the peak of a mountain struggling to reach his own form of enlightenment in order to qualify as a full monk, and then to try and become an Abbot.
Even after all those years, spirituality alluded him.
Maybe it was because he was haunted by his past, his life experiences made him refuse to believe that there was such a thing as spirituality.
The Old Abbot Yongliang had always told him to let go of the past, but Luke never quite managed to do so.
But he wasn't about to give up either.
He stood in that same position, even as the dim red skies above the mountain range turned completely black. Even as the rainwater started hitting his head, his position remained unchanged.
He continued sitting down, pondering, hoping to finally find some peace of mind.
But much like the storm brewing in the skies, his mind was also in turmoil.
The faces of those he had killed kept appearing in his mind. Demons he now had to face as he entered a deep state of meditation for the first time in his life.
Even as thunder blasted through the skies, the fledgeling Monk still sat in that same meditative position.
His mind fought with itself. Sweat filled his back and was quickly washed away by the rainwater constantly falling on him.
Then the inevitable happened... Lighting struck his peak.
He felt his entire back get seared, his muscles twitching as the smell of burning hair and skin filled his nose. But even then, he didn't move voluntarily.
Even as burnt blood fell from his nose, he only opened his bloodshot eyes and looked at the skies, his eyes shining for what must've been the first time in his life.
"All this time... To think that I had lived all this time without this feeling..."
In that sensitive state, as burnt skin peeled off of him due to the harsh wind, he felt as if the world around him was clearer.
He felt as if he could finally see it, true peace of mind.
As the storm outside grew heavier, his mind cleared completely, and a joyful smile appeared on the monk's face, as his enlightenment grew by the moment.
The angry skies also helped him gain an understanding of the fragility of life in front of the heavens.
Thanks to that, he believed that he was now only a few steps away from it.
True enlightenment. The state of mind he had searched for so vehemently.
Another flash of light filled his vision at that moment, and he realised that it was the end.
But he had finally done it.
His only real regret was not being able to share his enlightenment with the other monks, and not being able to follow the old Abbot's steps.
But even then, as the second bolt of lightning struck him, he couldn't help but smile.
'What a way to end it all... Amitabha Buddha! Immeasurable light and immeasurable life!'
He gave one last goodbye to the world as the second bolt took his life and consciousness with it.
The burnt figure of the grinning lonely monk would later be found in that same position by disciples of the temple after a period of absence.
Many within the temple were saddened by the Great Ox's passing. However, they couldn't help but admire his devotion.
And they all realised that their friend must have reached enlightenment, the serenity on his deceased figure spoke volumes to the monks.
The Elder Monks at that moment, when seeing Luke's body resting atop that peak in a lotus position, couldn't help but bestow upon him the greatest title they could...
The Storm Calling Buddha.
His story was spread through all of the Buddhist Temples within China's borders, eventually reaching the outside world as well.
'The showcase of man's great resilience, the Storm Calling Buddha's resting place.'
A shrine was built around the lonely monk's body, as no one dared to even try and move him.
His body was covered in a golden mould and made into a statue, which served to be his grave, allowing him to forever remain in that position until even his bones turned to dust.
And such was the end of the story of the 'Storm Calling Buddha'.
But unbeknownst to that world... Luke's story had only just begun.