It was head.
Feng Jietang howled in his head, cursing his misfortune. Or better said, Shen Jingwei's misfortune.
Yan Renzhong gave his rival a sneer brimming with schadenfreude.
"Great," he said to Shen Jingwei. "We will go fishing tomorrow then."
Early the next morning, before anyone awoke, Yan Renzhong and Shen Jingwei dug the backyard for some fresh earthworms.
Once they were set, they left for the nearest river with two fishing kits hauled over their shoulders.
"Weird," Shen Jingwei remarked, turning his head around again and again on their way to the river.
"What is?"
"Why is no one filming us? I thought they would want to take a peek at our fishing activity."
"They will show up later, probably ten minutes before we leave the river. No one wants to drag the pesky equipment all the way there in the darkness."
"Oh."
Yeah, that made more sense.
But it also implied something else.