Chapter 250: Brother, next time you catch that kind—big yellow fish—you get it?

In the shallow puddle, those fish had nowhere to hide, their backs popping out one after another, straining to dive back into the water—except there was no water.

Ye Cheng crouched down and pressed a struggling red fish nearby; picking it up, he saw it was an Eastern Star Grouper—this guy must have slipped out of the net earlier, and now he still can't escape Ye Cheng's grasp, hahaha.

A splash of mud flew from the nearby puddle, a flat, long body twitched, and Ye Cheng casually pressed down on it, scooping it up.

When he saw clearly what it was, Ye Cheng gasped in shock—holy crap!

Sea catfish!

The sea catfish, also known as the Chinese sea catfish, is a carnivorous bottom-dwelling fish. Its body is elongated, front wide and flat, rear laterally compressed; the head is large and flat, the mouth also large, with three pairs of barbels underneath, the body scaleless and bare, skin smooth, tail fin deeply forked.

The sea catfish's dorsal and pectoral fins have hard spines and are mildly toxic; being stung causes intense pain like a bee sting, then swelling, and possibly nausea and dizziness.

Although it's usually not fatal, getting stung is still no fun.

The sea catfish has a unique reproductive method: the male holds the fertilized eggs in his mouth to incubate, protecting the young until they can survive on their own, so the survival rate is relatively high.

Sea catfish meat is tender and boneless, suitable for braising, stewing, grilling, or making fish balls, and it's nutritious—but because it breeds prolifically and can be caught year‑round, it's cheap, just ten bucks a catty.

"Brother, you're grabbing sea catfish barehanded—aren't you afraid of dying?" Xiao Hu said from the side.

Ye Cheng carefully lifted the sea catfish and tossed it into the water tank, then let out a breath: "I had no idea—it was all dark, I thought it was an eel."

But this also reminded Ye Cheng that barehanded catching is risky, so he put on a pair of tough rubber work gloves, then used a net bag to catch fish—minimizing contact is safest.

"Brother, look, a mouse grouper!" Xiao Hu suddenly shouted. Ye Cheng turned his head—sure enough, it was a mouse grouper.

This mouse grouper isn't big, about a catty and a bit, also a fish that slipped through the net.

"Sure, Xiao Hu, keep going—we'll rely on you for drinks and meat."

Ahead was a slightly deeper puddle; Ye Cheng swept the net along the edge and went in. As soon as he entered, a fish startled and leapt out, landing on the nearby shore without Ye Cheng needing to scoop it, flopping a few times before running out of energy.

Ye Cheng picked it up and saw it was a sole fish, over a catty—not bad, mainly because this little guy was proactive and climbed out on his own without Ye Cheng having to scoop.

Besides the sole fish, Ye Cheng also scooped out several small Stone Nine Elders; good thing he didn't grab them directly earlier, or he might have gotten spiked.

He turned around, preparing to look for the next target, and Ye Cheng saw that Da Huang had somehow come down, lying beside a puddle, constantly probing.

"Brother, what did you find?" Ye Cheng walked over.

Da Huang gestured toward the puddle; Ye Cheng instantly understood, swept the net along the water's edge, and hauled up three yellow‑colored yellow fish.

As soon as he saw that yellow hue, Ye Cheng jumped—could these be wild big yellow fish?

Wild big yellow fish can fetch astronomical prices—if he managed to catch three, he'd be rich.

But these three yellow fish before him weren't golden; they were gray‑yellow, with small scales and a short, thick caudal peduncle—clearly not big yellow fish.

Still, the small yellow fish aren't bad—many people like to eat them, and they go for about twenty bucks.

"Brother, next time you catch that kind—big, big yellow fish—you get it? It's valuable, so if you see one next time, call me." Ye Cheng squatted down and seriously gestured to Da Huang what a big yellow fish looks like.

Xiao Hu had just caught a sea eel when he saw Ye Cheng chatting with a sea turtle there, and he exclaimed, bewildered: "Brother, what are you saying to a sea turtle? It can't understand you, and besides, small yellow fish and big yellow fish look almost the same."

"You don't get it—our Da Huang is spiritual, and besides, Da Huang looking for big yellow fish—that's basically a match."

"Fine, brother, if you say it's a match, it's a match. Brother, the fish are all about the same—time to feel for crabs."

The exposed‑back fish are all pretty much the same now, out of sight; Ye Cheng also started feeling around—there's all sorts in the puddle, nobody knows what's actually in there.

Right in front of Da Huang's puddle, Ye Cheng hadn't made a move yet when Da Huang lunged forward, thrusting his head in.

Then...

Ye Cheng then saw a tentacle whip out from the bottom, looping straight around Da Huang's head.

Da Huang wouldn't be outdone—he grabbed the tentacle and pulled back, hauling up an octopus bigger than a fist from the bottom.

That octopus seemed unhappy with Da Huang; after being pulled out, it ended up straddling Da Huang's back.

Ye Cheng chuckled: "Brother, that's a sea turtle—you can't eat it."

Saying that, Ye Cheng pulled the octopus off Da Huang's back and tossed it into the water tank.

Da Huang glared at Ye Cheng, apparently unhappy about Ye Cheng stealing his prize.

Ye Cheng casually scooped a small miscellaneous fish from under his feet and handed it to Da Huang—now he didn't protest.

This puddle is a bit deep; Ye Cheng felt down and another fish jumped out—a sole fish, hiding in the mud with its flat body; there are still plenty of these escapees.

He kept feeling around, but this spot was empty, so Ye Cheng moved to another place—a crevice in the stone, which is where crabs love to hang out.

Before he even felt, he saw something poking its head out of the crevice, its two claws impossible to hide.

Ye Cheng crouched, found a stick to get the creature to clamp onto, then pulled it out—revealing a bread crab.

The bread crab's carapace rises high on its back, earning its name from its resemblance to a steamed bun.

Compared to the blue crab, which is famed for its firm meat—most of the edible portion in the claws and walking legs, making up about 40% of a mature individual—the bread crab has more meat overall but a lower edible yield, only 30%, with the roe concentrated in the carapace.

Generally, bread crab meat suits strong flavors—like curry crab or spicy crab—while blue crab is mainly steamed.

Therefore, in price terms, bread crab is lower than blue crab.

However, bread crab has one advantage over blue crab: size—it's much larger.

This bread crab's carapace is 20 centimeters long, looking like about two catties, equivalent to two blue crabs in size.

Satisfied with the large bread crab, Ye Cheng poked around inside—nothing else.

Just as he was about to leave, Da Huang crawled forward again, indicating there was still something inside.

Ye Cheng squatted down, puzzled, and peered into the stone crack.

Holy crap, there really is one—a slightly smaller blue crab, hiding in the stone crevice.