Chapter 118: The Fishing Boat at Sea

In the coastal waters near the Xia Nation, a small fishing boat about ten meters long was slowly making its way through the waves.

The boat captain, Guo Jiahao, glanced at the young man beside him and couldn’t help but scold, “Haoze, we’re about to get busy soon. Don’t keep fiddling with your phone—what if you drop it overboard?”

“Second Uncle, I’m not just messing around. I was watching the news. They said there’s a sea monster out there, and soon all coastal fishermen will have to relocate inland. No more fishing at sea,” the young man replied.

“Nonsense. If we can’t fish, what will we eat and drink? Everyone’s seen those giant mountain-shaped illusions on the sea these past days, and nothing’s happened,” Guo Jiahao answered firmly.

When the strange phenomena first appeared across regions, humanity on Blue Star was gripped by panic. The internet buzzed with all sorts of rumors—some credible, others far-fetched—sparking endless speculation.

But after a brief period of fear, society quickly returned to its calm.

There was no choice; people still had to eat.

These days, many had grown accustomed to the sky’s illusions, treating them as mere curiosities. Some even rented fishing boats just to go out and snap photos at sea.

“That’s impossible,” the young man quickly retorted. “Uncle, I just saw a post. A few days ago, some hikers on Golden Sun Mountain found a mysterious spatial rift. Inside, there were terrifying creatures and a giant man-eating monster tree. The authorities have since sealed off the entire mountain. Online speculation says Blue Star might be on the brink of a great catastrophe… Maybe we shouldn’t go out to sea anymore.”

“What’s there to fear? If the sky falls, there’s always someone taller to hold it up. Worrying won’t help; haven’t we got to eat three meals a day? If you don’t go fishing, how will you make money to marry a wife?” Guo Jiahao said with a light tone, though a trace of worry lingered in his eyes.

He had also heard about the coastal fishermen being forced to relocate.

Soon enough, the fishing trade might truly collapse.

He knew heading out to sea was dangerous now, but his son was about to marry—at least several hundred thousand in bride price—and if relocation happened, they’d need to buy a new home, another hefty expense.

So he planned to earn as much as possible before then.

As always, life had to go on.

No matter what unfolded, the days must be lived.

As for the danger of fishing at sea… compared to the legendary sea monsters, he feared sudden storms far more.

In earlier years, fishermen from nearby villages were lost to the sea every year, many never recovered.

Guo, having lived by the sea for half a lifetime, had grown accustomed to this harsh reality.

After nearly two hours of sailing, Guo Jiahao decided it was time and ordered the crew to start the winch.

These were temporary hires from the same village, not volunteers.

Labor costs were high now, so he made it clear upfront: 300 yuan a day.

Ten workers meant 3,000 yuan paid out.

Guo felt a sting of regret but had no choice. His trawl boat’s winch required at least four men to operate efficiently.

Moreover, the seas were restless lately; for safety, he had brought six or seven extra hands.

At his command, the crew immediately went to work.

Guo’s face shone with anticipation as the net slowly emerged from the water, wondering how big the haul would be.

Ten thousand yuan? Or thirty thousand? Maybe even a million…

This wasn’t just wishful thinking; fishing often depended on luck.

If they happened upon a school of fish, a single haul could net over a thousand jin, making tens of thousands of yuan quite normal.

And lately, since about a month ago, fish numbers in the sea had suddenly surged.

If luck was on their side, catching rare mutated fish could bring in millions from a single net.

He had come to this area based on a tip.

A fellow boat captain from a neighboring village had caught a mutated tuna nearby just days ago, which was immediately bought by a mysterious wealthy buyer for two million yuan as soon as the boat docked.

As the trawl net was pulled onboard and the ropes untied, the fish spilled onto the deck with a splash—Guo’s joyous expression turned to embarrassment.

Just like usual, over half of the catch was ocean trash.

Empty bottles, plastic wrappers, dead seaweed and branches, reef debris, and scattered small fish, shrimp, and crabs.

At most, a hundred jin of fish, all worthless—the haul far below expectations.

“Captain Guo, should we try a different spot?” a familiar crew member suggested.

“Another haul. I don’t believe in giving up so easily,” Guo said firmly, shaking his head.

The last haul was just bad luck… if his insider information was correct, there had to be mutated tunas in this area.

These creatures usually traveled in schools.

The crew said nothing in objection.

After all, they were hired hands.

When the boss gave orders, they obeyed.

The net was cast again, this time circling back and forth for about two hours before being pulled in.

No different from the first haul: most of it was trash.

“Captain Guo, are you sure there are fish here? Are we being fooled?” After two empty hauls, suspicion clouded the faces of the men. Before setting out, Guo had promised a big catch and even red envelopes upon return.

That promise had convinced them to take the risk.

But now, there was no talk of red envelopes.

They had been working nearly a full day and likely wouldn’t even cover fuel costs; they might as well have lost their shorts.

“This can’t be…” Guo Jiahao was reluctant to accept defeat.

Yet he knew in his heart that a third haul would probably yield little.

Had all the tunas here been caught already? Impossible!

Just as Guo was doubting, the fish finder suddenly beeped urgently.

He rushed back to the cabin and saw the screen filled with countless bright spots.

A massive school of fish was beneath the boat!

Excited, he shouted, “Quick! Big school of fish! Drop the net!”

As the net plunged into the water, the sea erupted in splashes.

Silver fish over a meter long leapt repeatedly from the waves.

They were Chuanshan hairtails!

Money was coming!

The crew erupted in cheers.

Chuanshan hairtail, known as the most delicious hairtail in the world, had tender, delicate flesh rich in protein and nutrients, including DHA, absent in hairtails from other fishing grounds.

True Chuanshan hairtail had black eyes and silvery bodies, about 60 centimeters long, laterally compressed, as wide as a belt, with pointed heads and large mouths, tapering toward the tail.

A few months ago, Chuanshan hairtail fetched over thirty yuan per jin. The cheaper ones on the market, priced around ten to twenty yuan, were mostly imports—flimsy and strong-smelling.

But in the past month, Chuanshan hairtail prices soared to over 60 yuan per jin, and the best, largest specimens could command hundreds of yuan per jin.

The fish finder showed at least tens of thousands of them.

If they managed to catch them all, it would be a million-yuan haul for sure.

Amid their excitement, none noticed a huge bright spot in the corner of the fish finder’s screen.

Or perhaps they did but dismissed it as just part of the hairtail school.