Deep Sin

After autumn arrived, the nights became noticeably cooler than in summer. The so-called "autumn tiger" could only show its strength during daylight hours; its lingering heat dissipated swiftly once the sun slipped behind the western mountains, and by midnight, a subtle chill seeped into the air.

Late at night, City C lay in silence. The hustle and bustle of the day had faded, as if the city itself had sunk into a deep slumber along with its citizens.

Of course, even in a sleeping city, there are always exceptions. Two shadowy figures huddled together on the dimly lit river embankment. Two slender, long fishing rods stretched out from the shore toward the water. Without sunlight, the river, already far from clear, turned pitch black. Thin clouds masked the moon, casting a ghostly gloom over the surface, making it impossible to distinguish the floats.

“I tell you, on a night like this, people are shivering from the cold. How are these mosquitoes still so lively?” One of the figures, a man wrapped in a thin coat, squirmed uncomfortably on his small folding stool. He flailed one hand in the air, swatting at the buzzing mosquitoes near his ear, while the other arm hugged his chest, as if hoping to preserve a bit more warmth.

His companion looked no warmer, but his patience was evidently greater. He gestured for his friend to keep his voice down, and lowered his own as much as possible: “Shh! Not so loud! If any fish come by, you'll scare them off!”

“Hmph! Better catch a few big ones, or I might as well go home and have a proper sle