Chapter 124: Catching Cicadas

As night fell, Zhou Yimin enjoyed a lovely dinner with his family.

After dark, rural villages without electricity really were boring. If you had a wife, at least you could try for a child, but for everyone else, there was nothing going on. No wonder the whole village would show up whenever there was a movie screening.

Zhou Yimin headed out with a flashlight.

“Yimin, where are you going?” his grandma called after him.

“Grandma, just out for a walk. It’s too boring in here.”

“Watch your step! Stay safe,” she reminded him.

Outside, the cicadas were screeching like mad.

It was one thing for them to cry during the day, but at night too? Zhou Yimin couldn’t help but be impressed. His target tonight was those cicadas—especially the nymphs. He had already called some people. Tonight, they were going cicada hunting, focusing on the ones still in their nymph stage.

“Uncle Sixteen! We’re here!”

Soon, a group of young men gathered. Some brought torches, but most simply felt their way through the dark. The moon was bright tonight. The ground was a little hazy, but you could still make things out if you looked closely.

“Seriously, with how little food there is, how come you guys never thought to catch cicada nymphs to eat?” Zhou Yimin asked.

Cicada nymphs were edible—that was something known in China for centuries, wasn’t it?

Someone gave a bitter laugh. “Uncle Sixteen, first of all, everyone’s so tired they don’t want to move. They’d rather rest. We’ve got work tomorrow—we can’t waste our strength on something that small.

Second, we only have torches at best. It’s not easy to catch them and it’s tiring.”

To put it bluntly, sometimes it just wasn’t worth the effort.

“And also, cicadas are only good when deep-fried. Who’s got oil around here?”

Honestly, if Zhou Yimin hadn’t asked them out tonight, none of them would have bothered to come.

Got it. Zhou Yimin understood—he’d been making assumptions. Sure, regular folks knew cicadas were edible, but they had to weigh practicality. Was it worth it? Don’t go thinking you’re the only clever one around.

“If we catch enough cicadas, come over to my place—we’ll deep-fry them,” Zhou Yimin offered.

Cicadas are considered pests. They damage trees by sucking sap, laying eggs, appearing in massive numbers, and causing noise pollution.

Both adult and nymph cicadas use their sharp mouthparts to pierce tree bark and suck the sap, weakening the trees and affecting their health.

What’s more, female cicadas slice open branches to lay eggs, which causes physical damage and makes it easy for pathogens to get in, further harming the trees.

And of course, their calls are deafening—especially in the hot summer. When a swarm of them starts chirping, the noise can seriously disrupt people’s lives.

Still, everything has two sides.

Even mosquitoes play a role in the ecosystem. They’re part of nature’s balance.

Cicadas, for instance, serve as food for birds, small mammals, and other insects—great sources of protein. During their years underground as nymphs, they help decompose organic matter and contribute to soil nutrient cycles.

As part of the ecosystem, they boost biodiversity and help maintain ecological balance.

When they heard Zhou Yimin say they could fry them up at his house, and that he’d provide the oil, everyone perked up.

Even the tiniest mosquito leg is still meat, right?

Same goes for cicadas.

“I know where we can find a bunch—follow me,” someone offered, taking the lead.

They headed to a small grove near the base of the mountain.

“There’s plenty here—start digging.” One glance at the little holes in the ground and someone knew for sure: cicada nymphs were inside.

A lot of people can’t tell the difference between adult cicadas and nymphs.

Cicada nymphs usually refer to the golden cicada—cicadas go through three life stages: egg, nymph, and adult. The “cicada monkey” people talk about is the nymph stage, also known as the “knobby turtle” or “hunchback.”

“Cicada” in general refers to the adult stage.

Many folks in the countryside know that before it gets completely dark, the nymphs are still in their burrows. They dig long tunnels underground and, once near the surface, create a vertical shaft and poke a small hole open with their front claws to check the weather.

At that point, you just need to use a finger or a small stick to poke the hole open, and you’ll find the nymph inside.

Zhou Yimin had done his homework on catching them.

In the future, people would tie sticky tape to trees—that’s the go-to method for harvesting golden cicadas in cicada farms, and it stops the nymphs from crawling up. Once they hit the tape, they’re stuck. Easy pickings.

Zhou Yimin had tape too, but he didn’t want to bring it out right now.

“No need to dig—look at the tree.”

Everyone looked up a little, following the beam of his flashlight. Sure enough, a dozen cicada nymphs were clinging to the trunk. There really were a lot—it was almost effortless to grab them.

As soon as night falls, nymphs burst from the ground and make a beeline for the nearest tree. It’s the perfect time to catch them. Around 8 or 9 p.m. is prime cicada-catching time.

Everyone got to work, splitting into small teams.

One person held the torch, another climbed the tree to catch them, and someone below gathered them up.

With that kind of division of labor, the catching speed increased a lot.

“Holy crap! So many!” the village lads were stunned.

They knew cicadas were out there—they just never imagined there were so many.

But of course they didn’t. Who’d bother wandering around at night to catch the things to eat?

Only Zhou Yimin had this kind of time and energy.

Soon, they had caught an entire bucketful.

That’s right—a full bucket.

Even Zhou Yimin hadn’t expected this. He called out, “Who’s taking this back? Bring it straight to my place—have my grandma grab a few sacks.”

Even if they couldn’t finish them all, they could sell the extras. Cicada nymphs are used in traditional Chinese medicine—there’s definitely a market. The only question is price.

Zhou Yimin thought to himself: no wonder some people made a fortune in the future catching cicada nymphs. They’re so easy to catch at night, and they sell for a good price—how could you not get rich?

“I’ll go!”

One guy volunteered and carried the bucket of cicada nymphs home.

“Uncle Sixteen, look, that dumb bird’s sleeping,” someone suddenly chuckled.

Everyone looked and saw a bird perched on a branch, not moving at all.

Zhou Yimin knew that most birds, like people, sleep at night—except for night owls like owls themselves.

When birds rest at night, they usually stay very still, sometimes with eyes closed, and even tuck their heads under their wings. It’s just their normal sleeping posture—same as how humans rest at night.

“Catch it—that’s meat too. Be careful, don’t wake it,” Zhou Yimin said. He wasn’t about to worry over disrupting the ecosystem.

If he stopped someone from catching it, that would be seen as weird—everyone would think he was nuts.

“Leave it to me. No worries—these birds sleep like rocks. Easy catch.” As he spoke, the guy had already scrambled up the tree, nimble as a monkey.

(End of Chapter)