Young, brimming with life, the willow branch swept through the air, a few dewdrops, crystal clear and glistening, fell from the tender green foliage. They finally landed on the pockmarked and severely damaged body.
The tiny dews erupted with a vibrant vitality that filled the surroundings. On that severely wrecked body that would make any physician shake their head, began to show signs of revival. The torn flesh and blood, the internal organs that had turned into a mess, the hardly intact bones, were all regenerating, healing, and reborn at this moment.
"Master..."
Hovering between life and death, being tormented again and again, Yinghai woke up in a daze from his comatose state. A wrinkled old monk with thick white brows that hung over his shoulder appeared in front of his eyes. This gave the disheartened monk a jolt of strength. His shattered Zen heart and collapsed will began to show signs of recovery.
"Yinghai, how do you feel?"
