The wounded swordsman collapsed and stared up at the sky. His eyes always accidently met with the white clouds that looked like sitting cross-legged, with a wide blue background that stretched out. No breeze dared to move the position of the cotton white
objects. The nature was silent. Between the blurred vision and the unfailing consciousness, Serunting's eyes saw the clouds
resembling the human body that was doing semedi. The longer Serunting stared at the clouds, the more he felt his soul flew
between them, then sat cross-legged with them in the sky, soothing the inner wound deeply upon the betrayal of his wife and
brother-in-law.