By the banks of the Huishui River, a small tributary created by dredging and excavation connected to the main river channel, yet it did not flow along with the current, remaining all the more calm.
Nearby, a middle-aged uncle was fishing. Like the water of the small stream, he sat like an ancient monk in meditation, seemingly undisturbed by the commotion over here—possessing that patience unique to fishermen.
A single fishing rod, a pack of cigarettes, and time could stand still until the end of days.
Chapter 881