At the summit of Changbai Mountain, the Temple of Martial Arts stands at its peak.
Sixteen basalt-colored peaks gather like giants seated in a circle; at the moment the first ray of sun pierces the clouds, sixteen mountain peaks are instantaneously edged in gold, while the heart of the lake remains submerged in indigo shadows.
In the Heavenly Pool, water sprays and churns, a young man suddenly emerges from the surface, raising a hand to wipe away droplets from his face.
Determining his direction, he swims toward the shore, bare-chested.
Not far away, a middle-aged man holding a steaming bowl of noodles squats outside a grass hut on the shore, asking, "Biaozi, how long have you been down there this time?"
Wu Hongbiao laughed and replied, "Uncle Changsheng, I went down yesterday around 9 to 11 PM and just came up."
