Half the warmth and light came from the flickering flames of the iron stove, while the other half was the cold and darkness beneath the ice hole. The wind outside the shack became sharp, carrying ice crystals that pounded against the willow branch shack, making a "rustling" sound.
Lin Yu'an sat quietly, like a rock that had become part of this ice field. In this absolute silence, his senses were amplified infinitely, filling the air with an invisible tension.
His mind was racing, waging a silent battle between reason and anxiety.
"The concentration of the bait should be fine, and the adhesion of the Bulrush Root powder has been tested. But could there be a branch of the underwater current I hadn't anticipated? What if a current carries the scent in the completely opposite direction..." A hint of doubt flashed through his mind, but he forcibly suppressed it immediately.
