"Uncle Chen, are you ready?"
"Coming, coming!"
In the courtyard, Chen Qingjiang finished packing up his fishing nets and followed Liang Qu toward the wharf.
Chen Qingjiang had not forgotten Liang Qu's promise to take him to a spot where schools of fish gathered. Since yesterday, he had stayed inside his house, never once stepping past the threshold.
"Uncle Chen, are you still heading into town to sell the fish you catch?"
"I went a couple of days ago, but with the weather getting colder and colder, the fish have nothing to eat and are skinnier than I am. I wasn't planning on going anymore—it's just not worth the trouble."
Liang Qu said, "Then starting today, don't go at all."
His senior brother had mentioned that the mountain ghost was capable of killing second-barrier martial practitioners. Possessing formidable strength, it preferred martial practitioners with robust qi and blood, not even sparing a glance for a martial apprentice who had yet to break through a single barrier. Still, a gentleman did not stand beneath a collapsing wall; if a risk could be avoided, it was best not to take it.
Yixing was fifteen or sixteen li from Pingyang Town. An official road connected them, a fairly broad path with steady foot traffic, but both sides were lined with dense woods. There was no telling if the mountain ghost was lurking within, waiting to ambush passing travelers. That was especially true for Uncle Chen, who caught fish in the dead of night and traveled before dawn, making the journey even more dangerous.
Liang Qu himself had only traveled with a caravan of horse carts that morning, not daring to make the trip alone.
"Did something happen? Does it have to do with that fellow named Lu Shaohui?"
Chen Qingjiang was honest, but by no means stupid. Hearing Liang Qu's warning, he immediately thought of the martial practitioner who had died.
Martial practitioners were a rare breed.
For Pingyang Town, a mere township, to boast so many martial practitioners was entirely due to Yang Dongxiong leading the way.
His martial hall had been open for over twenty years, and many people from across the county traveled here specifically to train under the Yang Family Martial Hall.
As time passed, martial practitioners grew in number. With more martial practitioners came more medical clinics, along with a rising need for laborers and service hands—they all had to eat, and they all had to make a living.
The fact that Pingyang Town had grown over the years to a population of tens of thousands, rivaling a county seat, was more or less tied to this development.
A larger population, in turn, spurred more people to take up martial arts, reinforcing the cycle.
In any other place, the number of martial practitioners would be cut by more than half, so the sudden death of one was definitely no small matter.
"Yeah. One of my senior brothers went to look and said he was killed by a demon beast. The beast hasn't been caught yet, so we have to be careful."
Chen Qingjiang nodded in agreement. In any case, he had no plans to sell fish in town, so staying away was no loss.
Reaching the wharf, Liang Qu leaped across several vessels and landed on a black-awning boat, leaving his old little sampan behind.
He had slept at the martial hall last night and gone to the wharf early that morning to ask Lin Songbao for his family's boat back, leaving that battered sampan with the fishing yard.
A sampan literally meant "three planks"—two partition boards separating the bow and stern into two watertight compartments, dividing the boat into three sections, and nothing else.
This black-awning boat was far larger than that beat-up sampan. The sampan was barely over three meters long and less than a meter wide, whereas the black-awning boat was nearly five meters long and over a meter wide.
Its gunwales were higher, keeping the spray from washing aboard. The cabin floor was laid with red-lacquered planks topped with woven mats, and it even came equipped with a pillow made of bamboo and wood.
The awning stood 1.2 meters high, with eight panels along the sides—four fixed and four sliding—woven from bamboo splits lined with bamboo sheaths. It shielded against sun and rain with ease and was remarkably sturdy. Because it was coated in black lacquer made of soot and tung oil, it was called a black awning.
Going from a sampan to a black-awning boat was quite an upgrade—trading a fowling piece for a cannon.
With an awning that sheltered against the wind and rain, Liang Qu could sleep right on the boat if returning home was ever inconvenient.
"Hey, Ah Shui, you got your family's black-awning boat back?" Chen Qingjiang asked in surprise, then caught himself. "Oh, you're not the same person you used to be. Scabby-Head Zhang wouldn't dare mess with you now. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Scabby-Head Zhang in a while. A while back, he didn't pay his autumn tax, and when they went to his house to arrest him, they couldn't find him. The authorities declared him a vagrant. Did you know about that?"
"No idea. Lin Di from the fishing yard gave the boat to me. He said Scabby-Head Zhang sold it to him, and since Lin Di wanted to get on my good side, he returned it to me."
"Oh, that's a good thing either way." Chen Qingjiang pondered for a moment. "If Scabby-Head Zhang even sold his boat, he must've taken the money and run for it. Wonder what he went off to do. He didn't turn bandit, did he?"
Liang Qu didn't bat an eye and urged, "Who cares? He's just a local thug. Let's get moving."
At those words, Chen Qingjiang untied his moorings and followed close behind Liang Qu's boat.
A black-awning boat was far larger than a sampan, so logically it should have required more effort to row. But a black-awning boat relied on a scull rather than oars, sweeping from side to side through the water, which was not only faster and steadier, but also less exhausting.
Liang Qu had been practicing martial arts for over a month and was on the verge of breaking through the barrier. His strength far exceeded that of an ordinary adult. Sculling felt lighter and smoother under his hands, and the boat glided across the surface without a trace of wobble.
Rumor had it that a truly skilled fisherman could set a dish of fennel-seasoned beans on the gunwale of a black-awning boat and row while eating, without spilling a single bean.
The two black-awning boats sped across the water, one behind the other.
Liang Qu lost himself in the exhilarating rush of skimming across the waves. Behind him, Chen Qingjiang struggled to keep up and shouted for him to wait.
Even without the shout, Liang Qu would have stopped; they had arrived.
"Ah Shui... your strength is incredible." Chen Qingjiang panted slightly. "Are we here?"
"Yes, right here. This stretch of water is packed with fish."
"Then I'll cast a net and see."
"Wait a moment. Let me scatter something first."
Liang Qu made a show of producing a small box, scooped out a clay-like clump, rolled it tight, and tossed it into the water.
"What's that?"
"Bait I asked my master for. It's irresistible to schools of fish."
"There's actually such good stuff?"
It was just ordinary yellow mud—a trick Liang Qu used to throw people off the scent and minimize the risk of exposure, as well as a signal to give the two beasts time to herd the fish.
Having tossed the "bait," Liang Qu immediately used his spiritual link to instruct the two beasts underwater to drive the gathered fish over.
After waiting about a quarter of an hour, Liang Qu told Chen Qingjiang to cast.
Chen Qingjiang gripped the fishing net, pivoted with a wide swing, and sent the net unfolding in a perfect circle across the surface of the water.
"Hahaha, so many fish! There really are so many fish!"
Chen Qingjiang hauled the net up with great effort. Inside were over twenty large fish, looking to be worth about forty wen at a glance.
And that was in winter, from a single cast!
Liang Qu made a quick comparison in his mind: this really was faster than the Fat Catfish catching fish on its own.
In a quarter of an hour, over twenty large fish—Ah Fei would have had to make seven or eight trips back and forth just to spit that many out, which would take nearly an hour.
"Ah Shui, quick, that bait of yours—toss in some more!"
"All right."
Clump after clump of yellow mud, net after net of big fish.
Chen Qingjiang grinned from ear to ear, sweating profusely from exertion yet unwilling to rest for even a moment.
What was he scooping up? This wasn't fish—this was silver, shining, pure silver!
"Uncle Chen, that's about enough."
"We can't stop, there are still so many fish!" Though Chen Qingjiang's arms and legs were aching with fatigue, he still wanted to keep fishing.
"We didn't bring fish baskets, and the compartments are packed full. There's no room left."
"Packed full?"
Chen Qingjiang stood dazed. In just three or four shichen, both boats had been packed full?
He came to his senses and murmured, "With this many fish, it must be worth five to six hundred wen."
"I just saw two small trout in there, so that sounds about right. Uncle Chen, wipe off your sweat, or you'll catch a chill." Liang Qu tossed over a cloth. "It'll be the same tomorrow. I have plenty of bait, and if we run out, I can mix more. Let's head back first."
Five to six hundred wen, split evenly, was nearly three hundred wen each. In a month, that would be seven taels of silver.
Best of all, Liang Qu would be able to free up more time for other pursuits. Catching fish and earning money would no longer require him to take his boat out as a cover.
If opportunities arose in the future, he could bring more people in to form a fleet, doubling his earnings again—though he would need to be cautious in picking the right people.
Recalling last night's meal, Liang Qu felt a wave of sentiment.
Without realizing it, he had moved beyond manual labor and become part of the rentier class. He could take in steady money every day without lifting a finger, surpassing plenty of merchants in business.
Living in a grand mansion and keeping beautiful maidservants was no longer just a pipe dream; it was well within reach.
Chen Qingjiang stared at the cabin, his eyes filled with lingering regret.
In all thirty years of his life, he had never caught fish with such pure satisfaction. The fish threw themselves into the net like mad things; a few more hauls and the net would have torn apart and needed mending.
The thought of leaving now left his heart feeling hollow.
He truly feared this day was merely a dream, and that once he woke up, he would be greeted once again by empty mesh.
Or that today was the fish's final gathering, and when he returned tomorrow, there would only be scrawny winter fish, leaving the eight qian of silver he owed the medical clinic an unreachable sum.
Plagued by gains and losses, Chen Qingjiang asked, "Ah Shui, if we come back tomorrow, will there really still be this many fish?"
Liang Qu paused, then laughed. "Of course there will. Why wouldn't there be? To be honest, there are only slightly more fish here than usual. The real secret is my bait. My master prepared it himself, so it's guaranteed to work, and it's cheap to make. Even if we don't fish here and toss it somewhere else, we'll still catch just as many."
Realization dawned on Chen Qingjiang.
If it was the bait, there was far less to worry about. Schools of fish might change locations, but the bait would always be effective.
With that thought, the lingering loss in his chest eased somewhat, and he was finally willing to follow Liang Qu back without hesitation.
Seeing this, Liang Qu breathed a sigh of relief. He had genuinely worried Uncle Chen would fish through the night, only for Sister-in-law Ah Di to demand where her husband had gone once he got back.
The two black-awning boats pulled up to the shore one after another and docked.
No sooner had Liang Qu tied off the mooring line than he heard someone calling out to him from the wharf.
"Ah Shui, you're finally back! Get home and take a look—someone's causing trouble right outside your front door!"
Chapter 54