At dawn, wisps of cooking smoke rose from the village by the North Sea.
The boy took a steamed bun from the wood-fired stove, carefully wrapped it in cloth, and handed it to his father who was about to leave.
"Father, will you be able to return from the sea tomorrow?"
The boy asked.
"Yes, I will return."
The fisherman hoisted his cloth bundle and said, "This time I'm not going to sea, you'll come with me to the mountain to seek immortality."
"Seek what kind of immortality?"
The boy asked.
"Some people nearby have seen Immortals; if we find him, maybe he can cure your mother's illness."
The fisherman replied.
His wife had been bedridden for half a month, and all the doctors said she was beyond help; now they could only seek Divine aid.
Together, the boy and the fisherman left the village.
"What kind of Immortal is he?"
The boy asked on the way.
"The Heavenly Emperor, the ruler of all Immortals."
