The family arrived at the spot by the river where they had set the fish traps, hearts pounding with nervous excitement. Silently, they offered their most sincere prayers that the traps would not be empty.
Gu Yu reached for the rope tied to the large rock. Under the hopeful gazes of his wife and son, he began pulling it up, inch by inch. As the fish basket slowly emerged from the water, Tang Jiao felt as if her own heart were being lifted along with it.
At last, the entire trap broke the surface. Gu Yu dragged it to the bank and lifted it out of the water.
The moment he got a grip on it, he knew. Grinning at Tang Jiao, he said, “There’s something in here—and quite a lot too. It’s heavy!”
He removed the funnel-shaped inner basket at the opening and tipped the trap over. In an instant, fish and shrimp came tumbling out with a loud splash, scattering across the ground and flopping wildly.
Tang Jiao couldn’t tell one species from another. To her, most fish looked the same—she was face-blind even with people sometimes, let alone creatures from another species.
But Gu Yu knew his fish. He explained that most were crucian carp, along with whitebait, carp, and the like. The shrimp were ordinary river shrimp.
Since this trap was smaller, with a narrower opening, larger fish couldn’t get in. The catch was modest in size—each fish was only a little bigger than Gu Yu’s palm.
They kept the larger fish and shrimp and released the smaller ones back into the river before moving on to check the second, larger trap.
The moment they started pulling it up, they could tell this one was much heavier. Tang Jiao rushed over to help, and together they strained to haul it ashore. Just from the weight alone, they knew this catch would be impressive.
They exchanged a glance, suppressing their excitement, and dragged the trap farther from the river so the fish couldn’t flop back in. Just like before, they removed the funnel basket and lifted the trap together, pouring the contents onto the ground.
Sure enough, this trap held much larger fish—and plenty of them. More than a dozen in total!
There were grass carp, common carp, silver carp, catfish, and all sorts of other varieties. Some even Gu Yu couldn’t name. Every one of them was plump and healthy. The largest was longer than Gu Yu’s arm, while even the smallest was about the length of Tang Jiao’s forearm. Altogether, the haul had to weigh seventy or eighty jin.
Normally, with the weather turning cold, fishing in rivers wasn’t nearly as productive as in spring or summer. But perhaps the fish here had never encountered human cunning—or perhaps the river was simply overflowing with life. Either way, their harvest was astonishing. This single catch alone would feed them for a long time.
Is this some kind of beginner’s luck? Tang Jiao couldn’t help thinking.
An’an, meanwhile, had been squealing with excitement ever since the first trap was emptied—and he hadn’t stopped since. Bold as could be, he poked one fish, then reached out to touch another, completely unfazed by their frantic flopping.
Gu Yu, on the other hand, had already begun processing the catch.
Though the weather was cold, it wasn’t cold enough to freeze the fish. Once out of the water, they would die quickly, and if left uncleaned, they’d spoil in no time. That would be a terrible waste. Since they were already by the river, it made sense to clean them right away. Once back at the cave, they could salt and air-dry the fish to preserve them longer.
Gu Yu had brought a proper fish knife with him—a new one, sharp and unused. With practiced ease, he scraped off scales, slit open bellies, removed the entrails, and cleaned the gills. Every movement was calm and methodical.
Don’t ask why he was so skilled.
The answer was simple: every time the family bought fish or shrimp, Tang Jiao provided the instructions—and Gu Yu did the actual work.
Practice makes perfect, after all.
Tang Jiao couldn’t help much with the heavy work, but once Gu Yu finished cleaning and gutting the fish, she could rinse them—so the two worked efficiently, one processing while the other washed.
After everything was cleaned, Gu Yu put the fish innards—except for the swim bladders—back into the fish traps and lowered them into the river again. Who knew? By morning, they might have another bountiful catch waiting.
Next, he dug a hole and buried all the fish blood and scraps by the riverbank to avoid attracting wild animals. While it was impossible to completely eliminate the scent, being cautious was far better than being careless.
Once everything was done, the family quickly headed back to the cave, carrying the cleaned fish and shrimp strung together with vines.
By then, dusk was already falling. Gu Yu didn’t bother worrying about the smell, slinging the bundled fish across his back, while Tang Jiao picked up An’an. The family hurried toward the cave.
Only after they safely returned did Tang Jiao and Gu Yu finally let out a long breath of relief.
The wilderness at night was no joke. After dark, dangerous animals came out in search of food. They hadn’t expected such a huge catch and had underestimated how long it would take to process the fish. Next time, it would be better to set the traps in the evening and collect them the next morning.
That night, with fresh fish and shrimp at last, they could finally enjoy a proper feast.
There weren’t many shrimp, and without a proper pan, they decided to steam them all. Fresh shrimp needed nothing more—simple steaming brought out their natural sweetness. Just thinking about it made Tang Jiao’s mouth water.
They picked one large fish. With limited time and tools, and since it was already late, they skipped marinating it to remove any fishy smell. Instead, Tang Jiao added a little oil to the steamer pot, lightly pan-fried the fish over low heat, then added water to stew it. A splash of cooking wine, a few slices of ginger, and several stalks of wild scallions went in before turning up the heat. A steaming rack was placed on top, and once the water boiled, the shrimp were set above to steam.
The shrimp cooked quickly. As soon as they were done, Tang Jiao served them first. One bite confirmed it—the shrimp were firm, springy, and wonderfully sweet. Little An’an, the family foodie, didn’t even wait for his parents to peel them and went straight in with his own hands.
By the time the shrimp were gone, the fish was ready too. Tang Jiao took a bite and was surprised—it wasn’t fishy at all.
With just a sprinkle of salt and a few chopped wild scallions at the end, the fish was unbelievably fresh, so flavorful it almost made her want to swallow her tongue. The flesh was firm and tender, without any muddy taste—only pure sweetness.
It was the most satisfying meal the family had eaten since arriving, and for the first time in four days, they were all completely full—with leftovers to spare.
Worried that An’an might overeat, Tang Jiao let him rest for a while after dinner, then pulled Gu Yu and An’an over to help deal with the remaining fish.
Truth be told, Tang Jiao had never preserved fish before. But she’d read plenty of novels—salt it and air-dry it. Simple enough.
Gu Yu found some thick, sturdy branches and built drying racks near the cave entrance. They rubbed salt evenly inside and out, propped the fish bellies open with small sticks, tied vines through their mouths, and hung them up to dry.
By the time all the fish were processed, two racks were completely filled. Looking at them, Tang Jiao and Gu Yu felt a sense of reassurance settle in their hearts—the more food they stored, the stronger their chances of survival.
It was already quite late by the time everything was cleaned up. An’an’s internal clock had long since kicked in, and he had fallen asleep halfway through.
Thinking about the fish traps waiting in the river and the tasks ahead the next day, Tang Jiao and Gu Yu drifted into a deep, hopeful sleep.