"Sir, are you talking about this kind of yellow croaker?" Han Qiwu asked helplessly.
He really didn't want it to turn out this way.
But since the fish had already taken the bait, he couldn't just let it go for the sake of a random old man.
Energy is precious and can't be wasted.
"Yes, that's the kind of yellow croaker. Looks like you've got some good luck, young man. Keep it up." The old man froze for a moment, said some polite words, and started walking away.
Han Qiwu thought this was the end of it. Internally, he breathed a sigh of relief. The old man seemed easy-going enough, and with him no longer watching nearby, it would be easier for Han Qiwu to bait his hook or store fish in his inventory.
But just as he turned his head, he realized the old man had made himself quite at home. Carrying a pile of his own stuff, the old man settled himself down just ten meters away from Han Qiwu on the dock.
