By the time Zhao Lin returned to his residence carrying the fish basket, the sky had already grown dark.
The evening breeze was blowing and the moonlight felt cool, but his heart burned with an unusual fire.
He hurried across the courtyard, entered the main hall, and shut the doors and windows. He placed the fish basket on the ground and squatted beside it, watching.
The three Pipa Catfish had all regained consciousness. After floundering for a moment, they quickly fell still.
If not for the occasional opening and closing of their gills, they would have looked dead at first glance.
Zhao Lin was slightly surprised. 'This kind of fish really knows how to survive,' he thought. 'It knows struggling is useless, so it conserves its energy to prolong its life.'
"Which one should I choose?"
Zhao Lin opened the lid of the fish basket, his gaze sweeping back and forth over the three Pipa Catfish.
