Chapter 24: Fishing the Dragon

It’s a big one!

From the violent thrashing beneath the surface, Li Hao instantly sensed something massive lurking in the water. His heart tightened in alarm—he dared not act rashly. He didn’t yank the line hard, knowing that sudden force could twist the hook or tear the mouth loose. Instead, after tightening the line, he gently eased the tension, then swiftly re-tightened it again.

In an instant, the pitch-black surface of the lake erupted in fury. Waves surged violently, churning a massive area spanning over ten meters in diameter.

Li Hao dimly made out a monstrous shadow rising from the depths, slowly being dragged upward. As it neared the surface, it writhed in desperate resistance. The creature was enormous—nearly eight meters long—with jagged, monstrous contours. Every movement sent shockwaves rippling outward, splashing water far beyond the immediate zone.

Li Hao kept the line taut, maintaining the rhythm of slow and steady pulls, guiding the beast toward the shore with deliberate patience.

Suddenly, the creature sensed something amiss. With a sudden, violent lurch, it leapt clean out of the water—revealing a broad, flat head, its mouth lined with rows of needle-sharp teeth, like countless sharpened bamboo stakes.

Its emerald eyes, cold and vicious, locked onto Li Hao on the Fishing Platform. But when it saw only a child—barely seven or eight years old—the cruelty in its gaze flared into fury.

“You insolent brat!” it roared in human speech, voice shrill and piercing. “Dare you fish me, Uncle Catfish?”

The Fish Spirit, despite its size, didn’t resist further. Instead, it surged toward the shore at terrifying speed. The tension on the line slackened instantly, sinking back into the water.

“I’ll swallow you whole!”

In mere moments, the gap of hundreds of meters vanished beneath the churning waves. The creature lunged, leaping high—its body clearing the water by a full meter—aiming straight for the Fishing Platform.

As it landed on dry ground, Li Hao’s vision flashed with text:

> 【Fishing Experience +68】

> 【Fishing Dao Level Up to First Level】

Instantly, a flood of Fishing techniques surged into his mind—knowledge he’d never known before, yet now felt as if he’d practiced for years.

But Li Hao didn’t pause to absorb it. His body snapped into focus. The stench of rotting flesh filled the air as the monstrous maw loomed inches from his face. He could even see the pink, quivering flesh inside its throat.

This was his first real battle. His heart raced, nerves taut—this thing was terrifying in appearance. But in his eyes, its movements were agonizingly slow, like a turtle dragging through mud.

In the Pavilion of Listening to Rain, he’d mastered three Body Cultivation Techniques solely for sharpening his eyesight. Combined, layered, and perfected, his vision had ascended to a level far beyond what even the Strength Integration Realm could achieve.

He bit down hard on his tongue, instantly clearing his mind. Then—swift and fluid—he twisted his body, bent low, and lunged forward. His hand shot out, seizing the Fish Spirit’s jagged fang, then twisted and swung it violently outward.

The entire motion unfolded in a single, seamless breath.

Thud!

The creature slammed into a mountain wall fifty meters behind the shore, its tail thrashing wildly against the ground.

“W-What… what are you?!” the Fish Spirit gasped, dazed and disoriented, its voice trembling with shock. It twisted its body slightly—its long years of cultivation screamed in warning. Death loomed. Before it, a child—soft-skinned, pale, barely more than a boy—was utterly terrifying. This wasn’t human. No, this was no mere child. It had to be a descendant of some ancient, monstrous demon bloodline.

Li Hao, hearing this, blinked in surprise—then burst into laughter.

But he didn’t let his guard down. He knew better than to trust a creature that could talk. He charged forward.

Pfft!

The Fish Spirit’s gills bulged violently. A stream of thick, black, stinking mud erupted from its mouth—like a venomous arrow shot through the air.

Li Hao had been prepared. He saw the movement the instant it began. With a sudden twist of his foot, he dodged aside. Then, with a powerful push of both legs, he launched himself forward, closing the distance in an instant.

“P-Please! Spare me!” the creature shrieked, panic-stricken.

But Li Hao didn’t listen. His fist flew forward—crack!—it struck the Fish Spirit square on the forehead.

The sheer force of the blow sent shockwaves through its body. The skull cracked inward with a sickening crunch. Greenish brain matter burst out in a geyser, splattering across Li Hao’s clothes.

A foul stench filled the air—so overpowering he nearly gagged.

No wonder Grandfather always smelled like fish. After years of fishing, it was inevitable.

The Fish Spirit’s tail still twitched weakly, but the movements were now mere reflexes—no strength left. Li Hao, wary of tricks, delivered two more brutal punches. When the creature’s head finally collapsed into a gaping hole, brain matter gurgling out like a broken faucet, he finally stepped back.

He stood beside the fallen beast, breathing steadily.

Next time, he thought, I should bring a sword. Otherwise, if I hook something even worse… I might end up being the bait.

Of course, with Li Moxiu nearby, he was never truly in danger. The golden talisman the old man had given him hadn’t even activated yet.

But Li Hao didn’t like relying on others.

Only after confirming the Fish Spirit was truly dead did he turn his attention to the flood of information now swirling in his mind—Fishing techniques, ancient and precise. Reading the water. Measuring the line. Concealing the hook. The skills came naturally now, as if he’d spent a decade on the shore.

He returned to the Fishing Platform, straightened his rod, and re-tied the tangled line. This time, his hands moved with practiced grace—flicking, smoothing, wrapping the bait firmly around the hook.

Then he gazed into the Black Lake.

Once pitch-black, now, through the depth of his vision, the water revealed subtle changes.

His eyes traced the faintest currents beneath the surface. He could see seven or eight meters down, where the ripples had settled into patterns—like invisible maps, charting the flow of the underwater streams.

From this, he deduced: something was moving far away. But here, near the platform, after two violent disturbances, the deeper creatures had fled. The heavy ones were gone.

Li Hao made a decision. No more waiting.

He picked up his rod and walked along the shore, eyes scanning the water. Using the undercurrents, he could feel the direction of prey.

After walking nearly a kilometer, he stopped at a natural bay-like curve. He chose a solid patch of earth, set up his stance, and cast.

This time, despite the powerful swing, the heavy hook landed with barely a ripple—no echoing ding-dong like before.

The line sank slowly into the depths.

Li Hao crouched low, still and patient.

Just minutes passed—then the float twitched.

Li Hao didn’t flinch. This was no surprise. The bait had been delivered straight to the creature’s doorstep. Just like a delivery boy.

Whoosh!

The float vanished beneath the surface. Impatient little thing.

Li Hao smirked. Then—yank!—he lifted the rod.

A massive force tugged at the line. But even as it struggled, Li Hao instantly sensed its nature—roughly two thousand catties. Probably a Fish Spirit at the Strength Integration Realm, still lacking full intelligence. That explained why its movements had been so loud—so visible even from a kilometer away.

Still, he kept his rhythm—heavy lift, light pull.

Then he began swaying the rod left and right, each tug tightening the hook deeper, making escape impossible.

After seven or eight minutes of relentless tugging, the exhausted Fish Spirit finally broke the surface.

> 【Fishing Experience +23】

The creature lunged at Li Hao, snarling in rage—but Li Hao met it with a single, brutal punch. The blow shattered its skull. He tossed the body onto a nearby slope.

Then, he re-baited the hook and resumed fishing.

There were still more down there.

…

…

“That old dragon’s clever,” Li Moxiu murmured from high above Spirit Lake, his form barely visible in the sky. He held no fishing rod—only a nearly invisible thread, plunged vertically into the water.

His Fishing Art had long surpassed ordinary skill. The Quality Line Technique allowed him to read the slightest tremor in the line, sensing every movement beneath the surface. To him, it was like probing the lake with his soul.

He’d concealed the line perfectly—but the old dragon showed no sign.

Earlier, the small Fish Spirit Li Hao had caught had been devoured by a larger one—big fish eat small fish.

But Li Moxiu wasn’t here to catch fish.

He was hunting a dragon.

“Hmm… seems the old dragon is resting today,” he sighed, shaking his head. He scanned the endless expanse of the three-thousand-li Black Lake—vast, unbroken, stretching into the horizon.

With a final breath, he retracted the line, pulling up a massive Fish Spirit—over ten meters long, covered in jagged spines. This was his bait, the lure meant to draw out the dragon.

With a flick of his finger, the creature shrank—contracting into a small, black-spotted fish no longer than a palm—then dropped into the Fish Basket.

“Hope that little one didn’t lose his patience,” Li Moxiu muttered. “I’d hate for him to catch nothing at all.”

He hefted the basket, then vanished in a streak of motion, soaring back toward the shore.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end