The fishermen sat quietly around the pond, forming a world of their own.
Song Tan collected their single-use porridge bowls from the stainless steel basin, and watched, barely able to suppress a laugh, as yet another person solemnly lifted their rod, only to reel in a thumb-sized lumpfish shimmering in the morning sun with iridescent colors.
It was really her own fault, when you got down to it.
If she hadn't set those few traps, nobody would have fished in this pond for a long while, and it wouldn't have been so barren of kicks this morning for the group of ten.
But now, the fish knew there was something better waiting for them, and they were noticeably less interested in the bait thrown down from the shore.
However, Song Tan believed that, with the tiny brains of these fish, they wouldn't be able to hold out for too long, and the harvest should come before much longer.
