When the time came that night, Ye Yaodong got up promptly. He checked outside; there was little wind and no rain, so he prepared to head out to sea as usual.
The wind and waves at sea were mild too, but the pier looked less lively that night. Many boats were still moored along the shore. Usually, when they went out at night, headlamps flickered everywhere beyond the pier, but there were noticeably fewer today.
He figured everyone had taken a day off and gone up the mountain to cut branches. After all, just one day of rest could bring enormous returns.
When he had taken the day off to go up the mountain the day before yesterday, it had happened to rain that night, only clearing up in the morning, so he had not lost out either.
He headed toward the same stretch of sea as usual. He had discussed it with his father: today, he would not dive or go out with the Trawl Net for now. They would just pick up squid on the beach, then cast their net in the afternoon. Leaving the fishing pots another day or two before collecting them would be fine.
Otherwise, with nobody picking up the squid stranded on the deserted island, the seabirds would get them all. That was such a waste. The pen shells on the seabed could not run away anyway; he could still dive down and dig them up in another fortnight or month.
It was pitch-black at night and visibility was poor, but that did not hinder them from picking up squid with headlamps. It was not a spring tide now, though, so while the tide was receding, it had not gone very far out, leaving little sand exposed.
The squid around them were washed up