The rain intensified, blanketing the area in mist. On the distant surface of the river, a large fish would occasionally leap from the water, sending out a spray of waves. Small bamboo rafts dotted the river, each carrying an old fisherman in a straw raincoat. Their clever ospreys would dive down from time to to time, returning to the rafts with fish in their beaks. Along both banks of the Lingjin River, a constant stream of people strolled under umbrellas. The scene looked exactly like a living ink wash painting.
But who could have guessed that beneath such a beautiful scene, a great storm was about to shake the entire Lingjin River?
In the middle of the river, a small boat drifted. Fishing and brewing tea, its occupants were enjoying a pleasant, quiet moment.
In less than ten minutes, Chen Yang had already pulled up five or six fish, each one a fat specimen weighing over half a pound.
The Lingjin River was indeed rich with life.
