Mr. Qin was as steady as ever.
Qin Fen sat on the ground leaning back on his hands, and the only thing stopping him from lying flat out was how scorching hot the pavement was.
"How’s the fishing going?"
Chen Yuan pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
"I’m here for the Fish King."
Qin Fen was still playing tough.
Chen Yuan was speechless.
There were two thousand fish in this pond — a stocking density that could rival any commercial fishing hole — and his uncle only fed them once every few days, so the fishing conditions should have been great by any measure.
Yet Qin Fen had somehow managed to go the entire day without catching a single one. That took a special kind of skill.
Whatever. He’d have to rely on the remote. At Chen Yuan Fishing Ground, getting skunked was simply not allowed.
Besides, his buddy had been baking in the sun all day — the least he deserved was to actually feel what it was like to catch a fish.
"Keep at it."
Chen Yuan gave him a quick reminder, then took one last drag of his cigarette before quietly summoning the system. The panel materialized in front of him instantly — thankfully, only he could see it.
He dug the remote out of the accessories menu and pressed the power button.
"Please select control range."
The system prompt chimed.
A list of options appeared before Chen Yuan — different fish species, with the ability to select multiple or select all.
Chen Yuan hit select all without a second thought.
"Please select control intent."
Only two options this time: bite, or don’t bite.
Bite, obviously.
As he made his selections, Chen Yuan couldn’t help but silently marvel — this damn system’s remote was an absolute godsend. With just these two functions alone, there was no way this fishing ground could ever lose money.
"Holy shit, the float just buried!"
The previously lethargic Qin Fen suddenly exploded to life, snatching up his rod and yanking it back hard. The line let out a sharp whine as it snapped taut, the rod bending into a deep arc.
"Heh heh, it’s a big crucian!"
Qin Fen hollered with excitement. The moment the big crucian came up, he was already fumbling for his phone to take pictures — he couldn’t have been more thrilled.
Chen Yuan watched him losing his mind over it and couldn’t help but laugh.
One rod, one man, sitting there all day, and one chunky crucian sends him over the moon.
And this guy calls himself an expert?
Qin Fen snapped a good half-dozen photos before finally releasing the crucian back into the pond. He rebaited, cast out again, and suddenly looked like a completely different person — like a victorious general charging back into battle, worlds apart from the dead-eyed slump he’d been in moments ago.
Chen Yuan found it amusing but didn’t bother commenting. Instead, he jogged around to the other side and pulled out his phone, ready to capture the Fish King moment.
"Oh, doing some promo content, huh? Not gonna lie, using me for the marketing is the right call. Make sure you get a good angle — make me look good, yeah?"
The moment Qin Fen clocked what Chen Yuan was doing, he figured it out instantly. He immediately started preening, straightening his clothes and fixing his hair, trying his best to look the part.
"Holy shit, the float’s down again!"
Before he could strike his best pose, he saw the rod tip shoot forward. Qin Fen yelped and grabbed the rod, hauling back hard — only to come up with absolutely nothing.
"Aw, damn it, it threw the hook! That’s your fault for jinxing me with that camera — seriously messed up my focus. Don’t you dare post that clip."
Qin Fen shot Chen Yuan a look of pure anguish and grumbled a few complaints his way.
Chen Yuan just about lost it internally. I literally had every single fish in the pond set to bite, basically gift-wrapped one onto your hook, and you still couldn’t land it. You are genuinely, spectacularly terrible at this.
He couldn’t be bothered to deal with it. Chen Yuan shifted his phone slightly, and there on the screen was Mr. Qin — calm as a mountain. Now this was the real show.
Whirrrr!
Mr. Qin snapped his rod up without warning. The line went rigid, the rod bent into a full deep curve like a war bow drawn to its limit, letting out a taut, singing whir as the line cut through the air.
Chen Yuan’s pulse jumped. He was just about to hit record when he watched Mr. Qin calmly, almost lazily, reel in a grass carp — not a trace of excitement on his face.
A pro was a pro. He seemed to know the rough size of the fish the instant he set the hook.
Mr. Qin was here for the Fish King. Why would he waste his energy on these Little Kalamis?
Chen Yuan hesitated, wondering whether he should switch from all-fish biting to Fish King only — leaving everything else active might throw a wrench in the plan.
He glanced at Qin Fen, then looked back at Mr. Qin casting out again, and made the call. He killed the bite setting for everything else. Only the Fish King would bite now.
"Whirr."
He didn’t have to wait long. Mr. Qin had barely set down his rod — hadn’t even wiped his hands yet — when the float suddenly plunged. Mr. Qin lifted the rod in one smooth motion.
Here it comes!
Even Chen Yuan felt a surge of excitement. He’d never been into fishing and had never caught anything over ten pounds in his life, but watching someone hook into a hundred-pound monster? That got the blood pumping on pure instinct.
The singing whir of the line was like music right now — genuinely stirring, hitting something deep. No wonder fishing addicts went crazy for that sound.
It really did something to you.
"Hey, Chen — you got any submerged stumps in this pond?"
Mr. Qin glanced across at Chen Yuan, his cool composure cracking just slightly with a flicker of anticipation.
The line was locked up dead still, and every angler’s first instinct in that situation is a snag. Mr. Qin’s instinct was the same — but when he remembered there was another possibility, he couldn’t keep the hope off his face as he looked over at Chen Yuan.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing in there."
Whirrrrrr.
No sooner had Chen Yuan said it than a violent, shrieking whir erupted across the whole pond. The rod was wrenched into a massive bend, the tip nearly looping back to meet the handle in a full circle.
"Fish King — it’s the Fish King!"
Mr. Qin lit up, every bit of his composure giving way to pure excitement. He used the rod’s backbone to keep the line tight and immediately angled the tip off to one side.
The moment a big fish is hooked, it usually doesn’t react much at first — then it makes a run for deep water. That’s when an experienced angler angles the rod sideways early on, using the rod’s flex to steer the fish rather than just holding on for the ride.
Leading the fish is playing the fish — it keeps the fish from using its full strength and stops it from bolting. Fighting it head-on is a tug of war — and the risk of a snapped line or a blown rod goes through the roof.
Mr. Qin was clearly the real deal.
"Kid, step back a bit."
Mr. Qin backed up onto the path and started working his way toward Qin Fen’s side of the bank.
"Grandpa, did you actually hook the Fish King?!"
Qin Fen quickly reeled in his line and cleared the space, then rushed over to stand beside Mr. Qin — visibly more worked up than the old man himself. After finally getting a taste of the thrill of fishing a little while ago, the idea of watching the Fish King come up was almost too much to handle.
"It’s coming up, it’s coming up — holy shit, that thing is massive!"
After dozens of back-and-forth exchanges that lasted the better part of half an hour, Mr. Qin finally hauled the Fish King to the surface. It rolled slightly belly-up, giving them a clear look at its full form, and Qin Fen let out a screaming howl of excitement.
Chen Yuan was stunned too.
It was his first time seeing the Fish King up close. The fish was at least five feet long from nose to tail — not much shorter than Qin Fen himself — and its body was thick and broad, each individual scale bigger around than a thumb-made circle, blazing in the sunlight with a blinding gleam. The visual impact was absolutely staggering.
A hundred-pound Fish King — it truly lived up to the name.
"Grandpa, pull, pull! The Fish King’s gonna get away!"
The Fish King twisted its massive body and slapped the water with its tail, sending sheets of spray exploding in every direction. The little pond churned like it had been hit by a storm, waves rippling from bank to bank — and then the Fish King’s basketball-sized head drove straight down as it made a desperate lunge for the deep.
"Get out of the way, you’re in the road."
Mr. Qin kept the rod angled, walking the fish — no brute-forcing it at a moment like this.
"Come on, Grandpa, don’t let up!"
"Don’t let it get away!"
"Bring the Fish King in!"
"Work it, work it!"
If Mr. Qin was excited but still holding it together, then Qin Fen had gone completely off the rails — but it was exactly that wild energy pumping up the atmosphere that made the footage absolutely electric.
Mr. Qin showed no signs of slowing with age, and the Fish King fought with everything it had, churning up wave after wave, turning the small pond into a full-on battlefield.
And right beside it all was one absolute clown, cheering his lungs out.
Even Chen Yuan felt his blood pumping.
Any fishing fanatic who watched this was going to be completely hooked.