In a tone of voice which carried deep profundity, the old man said, “There are things which have been concealed at the bottom of the sea for a thousand years. That is the heart of the sea. If you seek an answer to your questions, perhaps you should also examine your own heart.”
Meng Hao found himself lost in thought for a long time. When he finally looked up, his eyes widened in shock. There was no trace of the old man or the young girl. He was alone on the lake. In fact, the boat had disappeared too.
He stared blankly for a while, until his vision came to focus on a spot some distance away. There, on the far bank, a group of people was lowering a brand new boat into the water. It slowly entered the lake, and then laughter rang out. The sounds of the peoples’ celebratory cheers surrounded the boat.
The boat slowly approached the center of the lake. Rowing it was a middle-aged man, accompanied by a woman and a child. Meng Hao watched as, day after day, year after year, he rowed back and forth across the lake. Many years passed, and the man grew old. The man’s son grew up, and took over rowing the boat. Years and years passed. Generations and generations.
The boat, once brand new, slowly began to crack and grow old. It began to age.