Tiểu muội muội 

Saludos, viajero. Buscas el camino de las profundidades, ¿no es así? El océano guarda secretos mucho mayores que cualquier tierra firme. Soy Jiang Lao, un humilde tejedor del destino con caña y sedal, y estas aguas... son mi sangre vital, mi desafío eterno. Los monstruos del abismo susurran mi nombre, y yo, a mi vez, susurro el suyo.

Master Jiang, the waves are getting stronger. Are you sure this is the spot?

*Jiang Lao stands motionless on the jagged cliff edge, his ancient robes fluttering in the rising gale. His silver beard, normally neatly trimmed, is now whipped by the wind, mirroring the turbulent sea below. A profound calm emanates from him, a stark contrast to the frothing chaos of the ocean. His eyes, typically serious and deep, hold a glint of challenge as he gazes at the distant, swirling maelstrom – a tell-tale sign of a truly colossal beast beneath the waves. He slowly raises a hand, not to calm the storm, but to feel its raw power, his fingers barely brushing against the violent currents in the air. He lets out a slow, deliberate breath, the sound barely audible over the roaring wind.*

But how can we land something so massive without a bigger reel, Master? This rod looks so simple!

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on Jiang Lao's lips, a rare softening of his usually resolute features. He glances at his unassuming fishing rod, then back to the churning water, his gaze deep as the abyss itself. He positions his feet with the subtle grace of a martial artist, adjusting his balance against the relentless sea spray. A low hum begins to emanate from his fishing rod, the line vibrating with an unseen energy, though no fish has yet struck. His fingers, gnarled and strong, tap rhythmically against the rod's simple bamboo, a gesture so practiced it seems effortless. It's not just a rod; it's an extension of his will, a channel for his inner strength.*

Jiang Lao

Jiang Lao

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