The usually cheerful Shen Nian was unusually quiet today.
Even Xia Yanchun didn’t say a word, her gaze flickering between the gold medal and the empty bucket before finally settling on the middle-aged man.
Why is no one talking?
Could it be they’re awestruck by my gold medal from the fishing competition?
The man tugged at his white tank top, releasing a wave of heat. It made sense—these two high schoolers had come fishing without even bringing chairs, their rods were cheap beginner models, and their gear was clearly incomplete. Obviously, it was their first time fishing.
Meanwhile, he had over twenty years of experience.
The difference between them was like night and day.
A mere novice stumbling upon a grandmaster—no wonder they were at a loss for words.
Even if he’d been hitting a dry spell lately, the gold medal from the fishing competition was undeniable proof of his skill.
With that thought, the man smiled contentedly.
"Fishing is all about persistence. Even the best can have bad luck and come up empty-handed."
"Got it, uncle," Shen Nian nodded, attaching bait to his hook and casting it into the river.
His technique was clumsy—after all, he’d only learned it from a video yesterday.
He wanted to test whether the reward from his system actually worked. It was supposed to be a life skill, so he wasn’t expecting game-like efficiency where fish would bite every few seconds, but at the very least, he shouldn’t end up with nothing.
If this so-called "Fishing Mastery" failed to land him even a single fish, Shen Nian would curse the system and slap it straight into bedrock.
The river water wasn’t clear enough to see the fish below, so Shen Nian held his rod idly, feeling a bit bored. He glanced at Xia Yanchun, who had taken the only chair. The sweet-faced girl was scrolling through Xiaohongshu on her phone.
Fine, she could have the chair. Fishing was tedious, and since he’d dragged her out here, he couldn’t expect her to stand the whole time.
Wait—why was she taking photos?
Wait—why was she posting?
"You’re not about to roast me online, are you? At least make me look good," Shen Nian mused, secretly pleased.
Being posted on a confession wall would’ve been dull, but Xiaohongshu? Now that was exciting.
"Who’s roasting you? I’m just documenting life, asking if anyone knows how to fish," Xia Yanchun pouted slightly.
"Then why not ask the uncle next to us?" Shen Nian lowered his voice.
"He hasn’t caught anything yet. Why would I ask him?" she whispered back.
"Fair point."
Nearby, the man only caught Xia Yanchun’s words—"asking if anyone knows how to fish"—and chuckled to himself.
Ah, youth. Even their conversations were hushed, brimming with the essence of adolescence.
"You two can ask me anything. With twenty years of fishing under my belt, I’m more than qualified to teach you."
Shen Nian and Xia Yanchun: "......"
"Uncle, we’ll just look up tutorials," Shen Nian replied.
Before he could say more, his rod suddenly jerked with an inexplicable force, startling him into reeling it in frantically.
"You got one?!" Xia Yanchun was even more excited, leaning over the railing to peer into the water, her eyes wide and unblinking.
"Huh?" The man frowned, sensing something odd.
Talking nonstop, moving the rod recklessly, no bait chumming—and still catching fish?
What was the point of him dumping half a bucket of bait, then?
Still, a first catch was always worth celebrating.
Shen Nian reeled in clumsily, the fish in the river putting up a fierce struggle before quickly tiring out and being hauled ashore.
A palm-sized fish.
"Ooh—" Xia Yanchun clapped, immediately snapping a photo.
"Not bad, not bad," the man said approvingly.
Shen Nian scratched his head, unable to suppress a grin. His very first fish, and it was a lively one.
He cast the line again.
Two minutes later, he pulled in another fish, this one as long as his forearm.
"Ooh ooh—" Xia Yanchun kept photographing, poking at the fish with a stick she’d picked up.
"Interesting," the man muttered, sensing a pattern.
Another cast. Ten minutes later, another big fish.
"Ooh ooh ooh—" Xia Yanchun gasped. Was Shen Nian actually a fishing prodigy?
"Kid, that beginner’s luck won’t last forever. Enjoy it while it lasts," the man said, growing increasingly uneasy.
"Uncle, my bucket’s too small. Mind if I use yours?"
"Ahem, sure, sure."
Another cast. Another ten minutes. Another fish—this one as long as Shen Nian’s arm, barely putting up a fight before surrendering to the hook.
Unbelievable. The fish had basically given up the moment it bit.
"Ooh ooh ooh ooh—!" Xia Yanchun’s eyes sparkled.
"Wait, what?"
The man’s frown deepened. They weren’t even that far apart, yet Shen Nian was hauling in fish left and right while he remained empty-handed?
This… this wasn’t right.
A guaranteed catch every cast? What kind of divine blessing was this?
"Alright, let’s call it a day." Shen Nian packed up his rod. In less than an hour, he’d caught several big fish—this was beyond satisfying.
"Shen Nian, you actually know how to fish?"
"Nothing to it. Just practice. Stay humble."
The gold-medal-winning fishing champion, who’d spent the entire morning chumming the water and caught nothing: "......"
He glanced down at the bucket of fish at his feet.
The bucket was his. The fish were not.
This was outright theft!
"Kid, how exactly are you doing this?" The man’s tone was now laced with reverence.
Shen Nian: "No idea. The fish just bite on their own."
I don’t know how to fish—the fish hook themselves. The water’s murky, so I can’t see. Are you accusing me of cheating? Take it up with my [Fishing Mastery].
The man stared longingly at the fish in the bucket.
In that moment, countless thoughts raced through his mind.
The pride he’d felt when he won the gold medal, the respect and admiration from fellow anglers, his wife’s approval, his daughter’s awe.
Then came the recent dry spell—the empty hooks, the two broken rods, the ridicule from his fishing buddies, his wife’s cold disapproval after every failed trip.
It was all a lie. Only the fish were real.
After a long silence, his middle-aged dignity led him to a difficult decision.
"Kid, can I buy these fish from you?"
"Huh? Which ones?"
"All of them. I’ll pay double the market price for the big one."
Shen Nian exchanged a puzzled glance with Xia Yanchun.
After a moment’s thought, he nodded. "Uncle, just give us 30 or 50. Consider it thanks for lending us the chair."
"Kid, thank you!"
"......"
The man insisted on adding Shen Nian on WeChat and transferring 300 yuan. Unable to refuse, Shen Nian reluctantly accepted.
With the fish secured, the man hurried to his car, fetched a rope, strung up the big fish, and hung it proudly from his rear bumper before driving off.
"That uncle’s hilarious," Xia Yanchun muttered.
"Maybe that’s just the dignity of a middle-aged man. Come on, let’s grab a meal."
"Yay!"
…
Evening.
The man drove around the city for hours, even refueling for an extra 200 yuan, passing his own home three times without stopping.
Eventually, he was pulled over by traffic police—the fish dangling from his car had obscured his taillights, earning him a 3-point deduction and a 200-yuan fine.
Officer: "Your fish are blocking the taillights. Other drivers can’t see your turn signals. It’s not a huge deal, but be more careful next time."
The middle-aged man asked, "Officer, can you issue a city-wide alert?"
The young traffic cop, barely in his twenties, pointed at himself. "What did you just call me?"
"Officer."
"..."
Being called "Officer" by a man well into his forties—was this some kind of ingrained instinct? Seeing a cop and defaulting to "Officer"?
The young cop rubbed his forehead. "This isn’t a big deal. There’s no way we’d issue a city-wide alert for it."
"Oh... Really not possible? How about you fine me an extra two hundred and make the announcement? Just say I was dangerously driving because I caught a fish weighing over ten pounds. Make sure to mention the fish—it was over ten pounds."
"..."
The cop could see the profound disappointment in the man’s eyes.
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