A spicy warmth suddenly filled his heart, then slowly spread out through his body.
“Old sir, your conversation topics are somewhat out of the ordinary. Have you been running a ferry here for a long time?” Meng Hao gazed at the rippling green waves, then took another drink of alcohol. The alcohol burned its way down, and he thought of the Reliance Sect, of Elder Sister Xu, Elder Brother Chen and Fatty.
“Twenty years,” replied the old man with a laugh. “In my life, I’ve ferried many, many people across this North Sea. I’ve seen a lot of things, and of course, I’ve learned a lot about how people tend to have conversations. Please, don’t laugh at me. Who knows how many years this lake has been here? It’s seen a lot of people too. People remember it, and it remembers the people.” The old man lifted his glass and took a drink.
Meng Hao stared at him for a moment. This was the first time he had ever heard someone speak in such a fashion. He looked back at the lake, muttering to himself, seemingly lost in thought.
“This is obviously a lake,” he said suddenly. “Why do people call it the North Sea?”
The old man thought for a moment, then smiled. “Lakes can dry up, grow quiet, and become still. If that happened, no living things would remain. But seas last forever, and can contain the water of countless rivers and lakes. Maybe people just didn’t want the lake to ever go away, so they named it that way. When all is said and done, if you believe it’s a lake, then it’s a lake. If you believe it’s a sea, then it’s a sea.”