"Good grief, that's a lot! How long were you even down there? You filled the whole net."
"Before, I'd wander all over looking for sea cucumbers, small green lobsters, or fishing pots, and only dig up abalone at the end to fill the net bag. Today I went straight to that patch of pen shells. I didn't waste any time."
As Ye Yaodong spoke, he helped haul up the bag packed with pen shells.
Father Ye happily untied the net bag. Even one he picked at random was as big as his palm, shaped like a winnowing basket. Most of those inside were bigger than his palm.
He hefted it. "This one alone must weigh close to seven or eight liang. Are there still lots down there?"
"A fair number. We could get a thousand jin out of that patch."
Father Ye brightened. "That's pretty good. There should be more nearby, right?"
"Not sure. I haven't had time to look around. Let's clear this patch first."
Actually, pen shell meat was especially delicious in late autumn and winter. Now that it was May and the weather was gradually warming up, the texture wasn't as good.
But he had no desire to go into the water in freezing weather. He had no taste for winter swimming, and one slipup could leave him with a cold. Since he had found them now, he would naturally haul them all up now.
"Right. Tip them into the basket first and empty the net bag."
Father and son worked together to pour the catch into the basket. With a clattering rush, it filled the basket right to the brim.
Ye Yaodong's soaking clothes clung to his body uncomfortably. He tugged at the fabric over his chest, then wrung out his sleeves and trouser cuffs again.