Most people would have gotten tired of hearing about the love lives and gossip of a bunch of small fish and shrimp long ago.
But Tang Mo was different. In her current state, she was just happy to have someone to talk to.
Forget gossip—she would have been thrilled to listen to a discussion about how many kinds of coral there were on the seafloor, what each one looked like, and how many colors and patterns they had.
And so, the fish and the human carried on a pleasant and friendly conversation, one speaking while the other listened.
After talking for a very, very long time, Da Jing finally got tired and stopped.
"Why did you stop?" Tang Mo asked, not yet having had her fill.
"It's your turn."
Da Jing had always remained on the ocean floor. Although the reach of its consciousness was vast, it had never extended to the land, nor could it.
