Zheng Qing had never heard the saying 'fish alive to fry, dead fish to pickle.'
He had only heard 'living fish worry, dead fish are at peace'—a proverb from the Lake Lingzhong Fishman Tribe, meaning that living Fishmen are always anxious, always suspecting Wizards want to harm them; dead Fishmen no longer have such worries because they've transformed into another race, becoming members of the Ghost Tribe. As a large tribe with seats in the Upper House of the Moon Council, the Ghosts at the First University naturally fare much better than the already declined Fishmen.
Yet at the moment, the witches gathered around didn't seem to be discussing 'living fish' or 'dead fish' with him.
Zheng Qing could sense a subtle atmosphere in the air.
But looking at the clear and simple eyes of the witches, he was unsure of his assumption, wondering whether he was being overly sentimental.
Just as he hesitated on how to continue the topic of 'frying fish.'
