Chapter Forty-Two: Releasing Fish into the Reservoir

The reservoir was not large; by official standards, it could at most be considered a category-two small reservoir. Its total area was about one hundred mu, with a depth of more than ten meters. At maximum capacity, it could hold nearly seven hundred thousand cubic meters of water. The construction of this reservoir was also for the sake of this forested region.

During orchard management, it was common to encounter peak irrigation seasons, with the groundwater level dropping year by year and a limited number of wells. When this happened, many fruit growers found themselves without enough water for irrigation, which was why the reservoir had been built.

Zhong Di had come to see if the water level had dropped a bit, intending to release some half-grown fish into the water. At first glance, he noticed that the water level had indeed fallen significantly, and a few people were fishing along the banks. In the past, fishing and casting nets had been forbidden here due to fish farming, but now with the owner gone, no one cared to enforce the rules. Though there weren’t many fish, it was enough to while away the hours.

There weren’t many people around, mostly elderly men. It was the busy farming season, after all, and few had leisure time for fishing.

“Uncle, how’s the catch today?” Zhong Di walked over to one of the old men and looked into his bucket. The catch consisted of small fish, none of them large, with the biggest not even weighing half a jin.

“It’s not bad, just passing the time, catching a few to make fish soup for my grandson,” replied the old man, brightening when he saw the two young men. At their age, they had experienced all life had to offer, with all its ups and downs, and their attitude was much calmer than that of the younger generation.

“The water level isn’t high today; there should be some big fish around. Has anyone caught anything sizeable nearby?” Zhong Di tried to inquire indirectly.

“No, the biggest was just about one jin. Wait… aren’t you Zhong Di from the Zhong family? It’s a busy season, how come you’re not working?” the old man said, suddenly recognizing him.

“Haha, yes, today I was watering the fields, but there’s no one available to help, so I thought I’d come release some fish to take home for a meal,” Zhong Di replied, a bit taken aback, then realizing the old man must know his father and had heard about him farming. In a small place like this, news traveled fast; once he figured that out, he wasn’t surprised anymore.

“Oh, then you probably won’t have much luck. There are few fish left in the reservoir, and the ones that remain are quite clever— even seasoned anglers don’t catch much these days,” the old man said, eyeing their fishing net and giving Zhong Di and his companion a once-over.

He made a point to boast a little, implying that if even the old hands had little hope, the fact that he’d caught a few fish proved his own skills were not inferior.

“Uncle, you’ve caught quite a few— looks like you really know what you’re doing,” Zhong Di said with a hearty laugh. He understood that in old age, these were the small pleasures left, and there was no harm in letting the old man bask in a little pride.

The old man was clearly pleased, thinking to himself that the Zhong family’s child was indeed sensible.

“If you head over to the west dam, about thirty to fifty meters to the left, that’s usually the spot with the best yield. You can give it a try,” the old man offered, now that he’d gotten the compliment he wanted.

“Alright, thank you, Uncle,” Zhong Di replied, his eyes lighting up. He tugged Shao Hong along toward the dam. The dam could release water for irrigation, and the outlet was blocked off with an iron grate, so there was no fear of the fish escaping.

The old man had a point— where the dam was, the water flow was stronger during releases, providing more oxygen. Big fish preferred those oxygen-rich spots. However, the unstable current made it unsuitable for fishing, but it was a good place for casting a net.

“Zhong Di, let me cast the net first this time,” Shao Hong said eagerly. Having worked at an office job every day, he had grown numb; this sudden change was surprisingly exciting, even easing some of the worries on his mind.

“You haven’t baited a fish bed yet,” Zhong Di replied, pulling a bag of crushed bones from the electric tricycle.

“No rush. The current’s strong here, so baiting might not help much anyway. Might as well give the net a try first.”

Shao Hong wore a short-sleeved shirt, his sturdy arms clearly visible as he prepared the net, barely able to contain his excitement.

“Alright, you try first. If it doesn’t work, we’ll bait the fish bed,” Zhong Di said, seeing Shao Hong’s enthusiasm and deciding not to stop him.

Shao Hong’s movements were a bit clumsy. Strength alone wasn’t enough for casting a net well— skill counted for a lot. Those who knew the trick could cast easily, but without the knack, one could struggle to get results.

“Look at that— no bait, just confidence!” muttered a passing old fisherman.

The net quickly sank into the water. Once it seemed settled, Shao Hong began to pull it up slowly.

“There are fish! There really are fish!” Shao Hong exclaimed, watching the lively fish wriggling in the net.

“Only four in total, three of them just fingerlings, and the biggest isn’t even half a jin. What are you so excited about?” Zhong Di said, a bit exasperated by Shao Hong’s delight.

“But I caught them myself— it feels different,” Shao Hong said as he hurriedly picked the fish out of the net and put them in the bucket. He wondered why he’d never noticed how much fun this was before— perhaps he’d just been numbed by too much office work.

Only recently had Shao Hong begun to feel like a machine: working from nine to nine, sometimes even until eleven, all for a salary, day after day with no rest. In this moment, he rediscovered the joy of living.

“Alright, let’s bait the fish bed now. If you can catch a few without bait, once we set the bait, we might get a few bigger ones for soup. Do we have cilantro at home?”

“What do you need that for?”

“Adds a nice aroma to the fish soup!”

“You’re already thinking about soup before you’ve caught the fish.”

“It’s only a matter of time.”

As they chatted, they prepared the fish bed. Judging by the commotion on the water’s surface, there were certainly plenty of fish. Zhong Di could even make out some shadows moving beneath the water. He hadn’t expected chicken bones to be so popular.

The scene drew the attention of the nearby fishermen, some old, some middle-aged.

“Young man, what kind of bait are you using? That’s a good fish bed— let me in on your secret,” asked a middle-aged man.

Qian Weining was a seasoned fishing enthusiast from Kulun City. Well-off and financially free in his forties, he now lived as he pleased. A friend had told him about this reservoir, where fish farming had always struggled, and he suspected there must be some big ones. Even his fishing rods were specialized for sea fishing.

“Just the bones left over from feeding our free-range chickens at home,” Zhong Di replied. He had no reason to keep it secret— not everyone could replicate the effect, he reckoned.

“I’ve used those too, but never got such good results,” Qian Weining muttered.

With more people gathering, Shao Hong flexed his arms, ready for another go. Last time, he’d messed up his stance— it wasn’t a technical problem, just a fluke.

With a shout, Shao Hong cast the net, this time landing it perfectly in place.

Zhong Di sighed in relief. Having watched Shao Hong’s habits earlier, he knew where to aim. Otherwise, that cast would have been wasted.

“See, perfect placement! I told you last time was just a mistake, but you wouldn’t believe me,” Shao Hong said confidently, admiring his handiwork and glancing at the crowd of onlookers. Something about their reactions felt a bit off.

“Young man, confidence is a good thing,” one of the elderly men commented cryptically.

“Your technique is… decent, but there’s still room for improvement,” Qian Weining added, not wanting to dampen the young man’s spirits.

Having had sixteen years of education— not counting kindergarten— Shao Hong could sense the underlying tone.

The net sank, and Shao Hong began to pull it up. Suddenly, he realized something was wrong— it was much heavier than before.

“Zhong Di, come help! I can’t pull it up!” Shao Hong called out after a few failed attempts.

“I thought you were always bragging about your strength. What happened?” Zhong Di teased, but he still hurried over to help. Together they managed to lift it, and as the net broke the surface, they could see it was full of fish, but still, they struggled to haul it in.

“Whoa, look at all those fish! Everyone, come help!” Qian Weining recognized the situation immediately.

The surrounding men rushed over; it was customary here that those who helped haul in the net got a share of the catch. With the combined effort of a dozen or so people, the net was finally pulled ashore. Suddenly, the net shook violently, and it seemed to lighten a bit.

“What was that?” someone shouted.

Zhong Di looked into the reservoir and caught sight of a huge shadow disappearing into the depths. The depth of the water varied— in some places it was only four or five meters deep, in others more than twenty.

Qian Weining’s eyes lit up— there really was a giant lurking below.

The episode passed quickly. With everyone’s help, the net was soon ashore.

“My goodness, I’ve never seen so many fish in all my days!” exclaimed one of the old men, eyes wide.

The net was full of big fish, weighing dozens of kilos in all. There were countless small ones, as well as plenty of green shrimp, crabs, an old softshell turtle, and even a few rare snails.

After sorting the catch, Zhong Di noticed a large hole torn in the net. If it wasn’t mended, it would be useless.

Just then, Zhong Di’s phone rang.

“Hello, who is this?” Zhong Di saw it was an unfamiliar number and greeted the caller politely.

“It’s me, Su Rou. Where are you? I’m at your orchard and saw the gate is locked. Are you coming back today?” came a familiar voice from the other end of the line.