On the morning of January 5th, I read a book at home for a while and teased Hui Hui and Xiao Huihui, who like to sleep at home.
After lunch, Chen Zhou took a nap to recharge. By the evening, he took his fishing gear and led Lai Fu to the familiar lakeside.
The lake's water level had dropped significantly as it was mid-dry season.
The yellow clay surface of the shore had become hard and dry, and the water grass growing in the soil lay languidly on the ground. If it weren't so close to the lake, it would've dried to death long ago.
Chen Zhou had a bad habit when fishing—he always liked to stay in one spot, like a dog urinating at a designated spot, as if there was a magnet attracting him there.
For a competent fisherman, changing fishing spots is a necessary skill.
Even if it's useless, it gives you a reason for not catching any fish.
Yet Chen Zhou didn't change spots; it wasn't due to stubbornness but because he had an unrealistic dream—
