Chapter 23: Experience Spikes

Li Hao didn’t hold back—he told the old man everything truthfully.

Upon hearing it was Wild Ox Strength, Li Moxiu gave a slight nod, said nothing, and tossed Li Hao a small pack.

“Inside is your fish bait. Spirit Beasts of the Strength Integration Realm love this stuff. What you catch depends entirely on your Circulating Qi.”

With that, he turned to lead Li Hao downstairs.

“What about my fishing basket?” Li Hao asked.

“Hah…” Li Moxiu chuckled. “You’ll get one if you actually catch something. If you do, we’ll share.”

“Alright,” Li Hao said, not pushing it.

As they stepped down the stairs, they found Li Fu waiting outside the building.

“Second Uncle, what’s going on…?” Seeing the fishing rod in Li Hao’s hand, Li Fu froze—then his eyes widened slightly.

“What do you think? We’re going fishing,” Li Moxiu shot back, clearly unimpressed by the man’s dense demeanor.

Li Fu nearly burst into tears. “Second Uncle, Hao'er only took three months to master Wild Ox Strength and reach its peak! His Body Cultivation talent is extraordinary! You can’t… you can’t delay him like this!”

“Funny,” Li Moxiu said, casually plucking at his ear. “You said that yesterday. Can you come up with a new excuse?”

Li Moxiu’s tone was dry. “What’s the point of Body Cultivation? Even at your best, you’d just be a strong warrior—nothing more. Let me ask you: are you strong enough to hold back ten thousand troops?”

Li Fu was speechless.

Ten thousand troops? Of course not the ordinary kind—this was the Li Family’s elite Yuan Division, the most ruthless warriors in the realm. Ten thousand of them could level half a city. How could Li Fu possibly stand against that?

“Hao'er,” Li Moxiu said, turning away from the man, “forget him. Let’s go.”

He grabbed Li Hao’s little hand and pulled him away—firmly, almost impatiently.

“Master Fu,” Li Hao waved back, “don’t worry. I know you’re just looking out for me.”

Though the man was stern and rigid, Li Hao didn’t miss the care beneath his gruff exterior.

“Hao'er…” Li Fu opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but as he watched Li Hao’s bright, joyful face disappear around the corner, the words stuck in his throat. Like something had sealed his lips shut.

Could it really be so hard to believe that the Divine General’s Residence can’t even feed one child?

The words from yesterday echoed in his mind once more.

Li Fu fell silent.

Maybe, just maybe… this moment, Hao'er was truly happy.

At least… he could still have a happy childhood.

Two figures—old and young—faded into the distance. Only Li Fu remained, standing motionless, staring after them. After a long silence, he let out a soft, weary sigh.

…

…

…

The sensation was like soaring through the clouds—Li Hao, held firmly by Li Moxiu, flew high above the city.

The courtyards of the Divine General’s Residence flashed beneath them in a blur—maids drawing water at dawn, servants preparing breakfast, elderly ladies strolling in the gardens, Wu Niang guiding children to the training grounds, pausing at the gate to whisper last-minute reminders.

All these scenes rushed past in an instant, leaving Li Hao breathless with wonder. He couldn’t help but marvel: How rich life is when you’re not asleep in bed.

“Scared?” Li Moxiu glanced down, his voice calm.

“Height?” Li Hao replied. “Not really.”

He felt no different than standing on solid ground. Beneath him, an invisible, impossibly firm force cradled him. The morning wind, sharp and cold, was softened—filtered into a gentle, refreshing breeze that tousled his hair.

Li Moxiu smiled faintly. “I’m going faster now.”

Before Li Hao could react, the world blurred. In the blink of an eye, they had already shot past the walls of Qingzhou City and soared into the vast wilderness beyond.

Half an hour later, Li Moxiu gently lowered Li Hao onto the edge of a vast, endless lake.

The water stretched endlessly in every direction—dark, churning, deep as the abyss.

Green water means depth. Black water means bottomless.

This lake was truly bottomless. On the surface, only the faintest ripples broke the stillness—calm, serene, almost eerie.

But that serenity only made the place feel more dangerous. Like standing on the edge of a yawning chasm.

Around the lake rose several great mountains—some steep and sheer, clinging to the water’s edge; others broad and rounded, sprawling across the land.

They landed at the foot of one such mountain. Li Moxiu scanned the area, his expression seasoned and knowing.

“Water’s shallow here. You fish from this spot. I’ll go to the center—there’s a big one waiting. Take this.” He handed Li Hao a golden talisman. “If things get bad, it’ll protect you. Don’t worry. If you hear a sound, just shout—I’ll be there in an instant.”

“Got it.” Li Hao nodded, accepting the talisman.

“Know how to bait the hook?” Li Moxiu asked, not leaving yet.

“I’ll watch first.”

With a wave of his hand, a massive stone nearby crumbled like sand—then reformed into a smooth, sturdy Fishing Platform.

He waved again, clearing away the tangled grass and brush, ensuring no branches would snag the fishing line.

Li Hao hopped onto the platform, opened the backpack, and pulled out a small bag of soft, red dough.

“Fishing Spirit Beasts of the Strength Integration Realm? Dead bait works just fine. Once you’re stronger, I’ll give you live bait—it catches more often.”

Li Hao didn’t care. He nodded, grabbed a lump of the bait, and immediately caught the sharp, pungent scent of fish.

He kneaded it onto the hook—huge, fist-sized, and it took a lot of the dough to fully cover it.

Li Moxiu raised an eyebrow. “You’ve done this before?”

“No,” Li Hao said, looking up. “Is this wrong?”

“No,” Li Moxiu nodded. “It’s fine. You’re quick. I saw you pick up Wild Ox Strength in just a few days—clearly smart. I’ll give you credit.”

He pulled out a small pouch of powder and sprinkled it over Li Hao’s clothes.

“This masks your Qi scent.”

Then, with a gentle push, he said, “Now cast. If you catch one today, I’ll bring you back tomorrow.”

“Alright!” Li Hao grinned.

He swung the rod, extending the line to its full length—over a hundred zhang—and sent it flying into the distance, the hook sinking into the dark water with a soft plink.

Instantly, a text appeared before his eyes:

> [Fishing Dao: Level 0 (1/100)]

> [Fishing Experience +2]

Li Hao’s lips curled into a smile.

Just as I thought—the game’s fishing system had been imported into my Character Panel.

And what surprised him even more? Just casting the hook gave him 2 experience points.

That was more than he usually got from a single game of Go. Even a challenging match barely brought in 2 points.

So fishing here was clearly harder—this lake was dangerous. A high-risk zone for fishing.

“Remember,” Li Moxiu said, “be patient. Don’t speak. Don’t move. Don’t scare the fish beneath the surface.”

“Don’t look around. Keep your eyes on the float.”

“Fishing is boring at first. But when you finally catch one? Every second of waiting is worth it.”

He spoke seriously—worried Li Hao might lose interest, like most children would. After all, fishing was usually the pastime of old men. A seven- or eight-year-old child was full of energy—how could he sit still?

“Got it,” Li Hao said, nodding.

Seeing the boy’s calm, focused expression, Li Moxiu’s lips curled into a faint smile. He said nothing more, simply stood beside him, watching.

He didn’t cast himself—instead, he quietly extended his Spirit sense, probing beneath the water. He already sensed movement. Two fish were approaching—one at Strength Power Stage Four, the other at Stage Seven.

Not bad for a Newcomer Protection Period, Li Moxiu thought, a flicker of envy in his eyes.

He could’ve used a secret trick—forcing the fish to bite instantly—boosting Li Hao’s enthusiasm.

But he loved fishing. And he wouldn’t spoil the joy with cheating.

Soon, the float twitched.

Li Hao’s eyes lit up. He waited—just a moment—until the float dipped halfway underwater… then yanked the rod up.

The line snapped taut instantly. Something heavy on the other end was thrashing violently, pulling with immense force.

But to Li Hao, the pull felt like a feather brushing his palm. He tugged hard—and the line shot forward, dragging the creature toward him.

“Don’t rush!” Li Moxiu called. “Be careful—don’t let it break free!”

Li Hao snapped back to focus, slowing his movements. Under Li Moxiu’s guidance, he began to play the fish—reeling in and letting out, guiding it, wearing it down.

The black water churned. Waves exploded in all directions.

It took nearly ten minutes before the exhausted Spirit Beast finally surfaced—its body nearly five meters long, jaws lined with jagged fangs. One snap could swallow a grown man whole.

If someone fell in, it would be a feast.

This Spirit Beast, still in the Strength Integration Realm, hadn’t learned to transform. Its mind was barely sentient—only a beast’s instinct, wild and bloodthirsty.

As it flopped onto the shore, Li Hao’s screen flashed:

> [Fishing Experience +37]

Li Hao’s eyes widened. Whoa—almost half a full bar!

The beast lunged at him, snapping wildly, jaws gaping, ready to devour.

Li Moxiu flicked a finger. The creature contracted, shrinking into a ball the size of a fist—then he casually scooped it up and tossed it into the fishing basket.

“Kid,” Li Moxiu grinned. “Didn’t expect you to open your first catch so fast.”

He turned to Li Hao. “How do you feel? Tired?”

“No,” Li Hao laughed, grinning.

“Good,” Li Moxiu said, eyes gleaming. “Then keep going. I’ll use this one as bait.”

With that, he lifted the basket and leapt—a single step into the air, vanishing into the distance. In seconds, he was just a tiny black dot in the middle of the lake.

Li Hao stared after him, squinting. Even with his sharp eyes, he could barely make out the figure.

He shook his head, then turned back to the water.

Time passed. He re-baited the hook, cast again.

> [Fishing Experience +2]

He sat on the platform, eyes fixed on the float—still, quiet, patient.

The first catch had shown him: the real reward came from the catch, not the cast.

So he didn’t look away.

An hour passed.

No movement.

Had the fish eaten the bait already?

Li Hao nearly pulled the hook up to check—but stopped himself.

He’d already tried cheating—repeatedly casting, hoping to farm experience faster. But the game didn’t reward that.

The second cast gave only 1 point.

The third? Zero.

Too fast. No bite. No reward.

Just then—the float jerked.

Li Hao’s dull eyes snapped wide open.

But before he could control himself, the float vanished beneath the surface.

He yanked the rod.

The line screamed, taut as steel. A massive force surged from the other end—tens of ding in weight.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end