Taking the cloth from around his neck, the virtuous man bowed deeply before the ascetic. With humility, he addressed him, “O lord of gods, or whoever you may be, your true power is unknown to me.” But the ascetic, seeing the confusion in his heart, admonished him gently: “Abandon such foolishness, O virtuous one; do not speak vain words.” Despite being thus advised, the virtuous man still did not understand the immense wealth and grace present before him. The ascetic continued, “When Candracūḍa, the king, worshipped Satyanarayana, he failed to remember what he had asked for, and so he suffered in vain. O misguided one, neglecting the Lord, how can you hope to attain what is right?” At that moment, the virtuous man suddenly realized the ascetic’s true identity—he beheld Satyanarayana himself. Overwhelmed, he praised the Lord, though his words faltered with emotion: “You are the truth of the universe; to you, the embodiment of truth, I bow. Those whose minds are clouded by your maya do not perceive their own auspiciousness. I am foolish, blinded by pride in my wealth, my eyes clouded by intoxication. Forgive my wickedness, O abode of austerity, O Hari, I bow to you.” Having thus offered his heartfelt praise, the man placed a hundred thousand coins before his priest as an offering. Pleased, Narayana spoke with compassion: “May your wishes be fulfilled. In the end, you shall attain my presence and rejoice with me.” With these words, Vishnu disappeared from sight, and the virtuous man, his heart full, returned to his hermitage. As he neared the city, he quickly sent word ahead to the hermitage. Joined by his son-in-law, the virtuous man, having achieved his purpose, arrived home. The woman then passed the burden of worship to her daughter and went to the edge of the boat. But Kalavati, the daughter, in her haste, neglected the grace and blessings of the Lord. Because of this disregard, a calamity befell them: the boat’s captain saw the son-in-law suddenly submerged and cried out in anguish, falling unconscious. Kalavati, witnessing this, collapsed to the ground, overcome by grief. In her sorrow, she cried out, “Alas, O master, beloved, knower of dharma, skillful in compassion—why has half of my husband vanished? How can half a body live?” With her lotus-like eyes streaming tears—like strings of pearls and flower buds—she prayed, “Alas, O Satyanarayana, ocean of truth, lift me up, for I am submerged in this separation.” Then a divine voice spoke: “O virtuous one, let Kalavati quickly offer my grace.” Astonished by these words from the sky, Kalavati immediately did as she was instructed. At that place, the holy man was filled with great joy and supreme devotion. By the power of his vow, he was blessed with sons and grandsons, surrounded by happiness and prosperity. Whoever among men listens to this sacred history with devotion will be blessed as well. Thus, O Brahmin, I have told you of the supreme vow among all vows. Among all vows, the vow of Narayana is the highest. O Sūta, as you have heard from my lips, this vow destroys the threefold miseries of life. Of all forms of celibacy, what indeed is higher than celibacy itself? Even one who knows the essence of the Vedas and their branches may still fear the realm of Yama, the god of death. Knowing that the terrible Kali age is born from unrighteousness, I wonder: by which āśrama or caste can I attain the highest good in this world? In the Kali age, the stage of vānaprastha has vanished, and true celibacy is rarely found. Therefore, in this dreadful age, it is best to accept a wife; then my birth will be fruitful, and my highest good will be attained. Having thus resolved, I worship the auspicious, the bestower of blessings, the universal goddess, who is the very embodiment of existence, consciousness, and bliss.