Chapter Fifty: Capture

The loach lay quietly in the clear water, yet unaware of the looming shadow overhead.

Rather than trying to stun it with a stone, Chen Yu had a better idea. He set down his fishing rod and machete, then slowly lifted the fish basket in his hand.

With a sudden stride forward, he bent down and brought the basket down over the loach’s head.

Splash!

Muddy water flew everywhere, and he could hear the frantic flapping and thrashing within the basket. With a deft tilt, the slender loach slid helplessly into the container.

Heh.

He reached in and pinched the loach between his thumb and forefinger, his middle finger curled and pressing firmly against its body, leaving it unable to squirm free.

A bit on the small side.

He turned it over in his hand, estimating it to be just over two inches long—not exactly plump. Still, if he managed to catch a few more, it would be plenty for a pot of delicious, fresh soup.

With a soft plop, he tossed the loach back into the basket, slung the rope over his shoulder, and hung it on his back. The basket was finely woven, the holes smaller than a pinkie—there was no chance of escape.

Glancing back at the thin stream at his feet, he felt there might be more surprises in store today.

It so happened that a batch of dried mushrooms was airing at the temple; he could toss a few slices into the broth later, and add some celery for fragrance.

Just thinking about it made his mouth water. If he could manage to add that black fish as well, it would be a meal worth swallowing one’s tongue over.

Chen Yu stepped out of the stream, carefully circling along the water’s edge to avoid startling any other loaches that might be lurking nearby.

Speaking of which, he had caught loaches in his previous life back in his hometown. There were plenty of irrigation ditches in the countryside, especially in spring and early summer when farmers diverted water into the fields. Those muddy channels winding through the paddies were a playground for rural children.

Loaches, mountain crabs, eels, small fish, tiny shrimp...

He’d hunted all of these before, often leading a gang of village kids, each with a little net meant for toys, searching the ditches between the fields.

They rarely ate what they caught; driven by childish curiosity, they’d play with the creatures for a while, quickly get bored, let them go, and soon enough be gathering again to hunt once more.

He didn’t dally long. After searching the area and finding no more loaches, Chen Yu placed the basket in the water to keep the catch alive.

Turning away, he began searching a wider area—not for loaches or crabs this time, but for his main prize: reed ginseng.

He trekked over damp earth, pausing in low-lying spots, especially where decaying vegetation gathered, paying special attention to those places.

Perhaps luck was with him this time, for he soon found a plant without much effort.

It was rooted beside a sturdy tree, mostly hidden beneath leaves, with only a bright green tip poking out.

He squatted down, gently brushed aside the fallen leaves, took a small trowel from his cloth pouch, and carefully dug out the reed ginseng. As it was scarce, he had no plans to transplant and cultivate it for now; after shaking off the dirt, he placed it in the bamboo basket on his back, cushioned with two layers of soft grass.

“The first one!”

Having ventured into the mountains a few times and gathered quite a few herbs, he could now barely count as a herbalist. Though not yet experienced, he always found something and never returned empty-handed.

Without pausing, Chen Yu continued his search, following the stream’s edge and not venturing deeper into the forest, where the ground was less damp and reed ginseng, while possible, would likely be much rarer.

So he moved along the stream, searching for reed ginseng among the grass and trees, lifting river stones here and there to catch the occasional exposed loach or mountain crab.

Splash—a dark red crab brandished its claws beneath a stone, waving menacingly at the tall figure suddenly looming above.

It put on a brave show, but Chen Yu was unfazed.

He caught it and stuffed it in the basket.

Since the basket had no lid, to prevent the crabs from escaping, he quickly fashioned a crude cover from grass and twigs, securing it in place.

He hoped the loaches and crabs would get along—after all, they were all brothers in misfortune, destined to share the same pot. A little acquaintance beforehand couldn’t hurt.

It had to be said, the mountain crabs here were truly hefty—not bloated, but genuinely meaty.

Wading through the water, he came across several crabs nearly the size of his palm; who knows how long they’d lived.

This spot was simply too secluded, deep in the forest and rarely visited. Even herbalists seldom came this far.

That was how these creatures had survived so long—until they fell into Chen Yu’s hands.

He also gathered several more reed ginseng roots, piling them high in his bamboo basket—at least seven or eight, by his count.

Some were small seedlings, which he left alone, merely noting their locations. The more he searched, the more convinced he became that this place was a treasure trove, worth revisiting in the future.

Seven or eight roots, used sparingly, would last him about a month.

“That should be enough. I’ll search a bit more, then head to the deep pool.”

After another half hour or so, gathering whatever ginseng, crabs, and loaches he could find, Chen Yu hefted his now-full baskets and set off for the deep pool.

...

The pool was nameless, nestled in a mountain hollow. Compared to the small path behind the temple’s fields, this spot was much farther away and took more time to reach.

Along the way, luck smiled on him again—a just-sprouted codonopsis plant, its leaves oval and dainty, edged with blunt teeth.

He glanced at it but didn’t dig it up—it was too small, not yet mature.

However, after taking just a few steps, Chen Yu turned back.

It wasn’t fit for medicine, but it would be perfect for experiments. The previous batch of herbs he’d collected were all mature; perhaps the immature ones might absorb spiritual essence more readily.

He pulled out the root, soil and all, and placed the entire plant in his basket before striding away.

By midday, Chen Yu took out the dry rations he’d prepared earlier, along with a pouch of Lanting berries. After a simple meal, he pressed on.

Time passed, and soon the soft murmur of running water reached his ears. Chen Yu noticed that the forest canopy above was no longer dark and gloomy—it shimmered with bright light.

Sunbeams pierced through the branches, illuminating the path ahead.

In the shafts of light, motes of dust floated lazily.

A hundred steps more, and he finally broke through the undergrowth. A cool breeze greeted him, carrying the scent of dampness and fresh flowers and grass.

Not far ahead, the pool lay deep and still.

He untied his cloth bundle, selected a good spot overlooking the water, and clambered down the rocks, gripping the long grass for support.

He threaded his fishing line, set down his baskets, and tied the fish basket’s rope to a stick, which he then planted firmly at the shore.

Immersed in the pool, the loaches and crabs revived, bustling with new energy, no longer as listless as they had been on the journey.

He took off his cloth boots, rolled up his trouser legs, and stepped barefoot into the cool water. Compared to the forest stream, this sunlit pool inspired an unexplainable sense of safety.

Wading through the water, Chen Yu made his way to the same sandbar he’d visited before. After baiting his hook with earthworms, he produced a yellow, water-stained cloth pouch.

Recalling his previous two attempts, he realized he had failed to use groundbait first. With a pool this size, it shouldn’t be that only the black fish showed up each time.

“Could it have eaten everything else?” he wondered.

Judging from past experience, the black fish in the pool was clearly a glutton. That might explain a lot.

Still, it eats the small fish, and I will eat it.

This, he mused, was truly the way of nature.

With idle thoughts swirling, Chen Yu scattered the groundbait into the pool, then cast his fishing rod—the earthworm tracing a graceful arc through the air before plunging eagerly into the water, offering itself as bait.