Chapter 301: Sack Under the Water
Ancheng is a neighboring city to Lecheng, but despite being a neighbor, the distance from Lecheng's urban area to Ancheng's urban area is quite considerable.
Given Yang Haoran's strength and the special nature of his Emissary of Death identity, tearing space to teleport was a simple feat. However, he couldn't teleport directly to his destination in one go, nor could he even leave Lecheng in a single teleportation.
Lecheng was vast, populous, and somewhat impoverished.
Ancheng, on the other hand, covered an even larger area than Lecheng, boasted twice its population, and yet was considerably wealthier.
After multiple spatial tears and teleports, Yang Haoran finally arrived in Ancheng. Since he was unfamiliar with the city and too lazy to spend time searching for a place to stay, he simply chose a secluded spot outside the city.
As the spatial rift manifested, Yang Haoran stepped out of it. His current location was rather peculiar: atop a dense, towering tree.
"From here, at my speed, it shouldn't take long to enter the city."
With a soft leap, Yang Haoran descended from the tree, landing on the narrow dirt path beside it, then followed the path away.
Yang Haoran hadn't informed Xu Meijing of his visit to Ancheng this time, as he intended to give her a surprise.
Exiting the secluded path, Yang Haoran emerged onto what was, relatively speaking, a main road—though it was still just a dirt path, albeit wider than the one he had just left.
Beyond the dirt road flowed a river. Yang Haoran's gaze swept over the scene; besides a single fisherman, he saw no other people or dwellings.
Although not far from the urban area, this spot was indeed quite remote, hence the lack of residents.
Such places existed to varying degrees everywhere, uninhabited for various reasons, though they were typically small in scope, not vast.
Yang Haoran withdrew his gaze, pinpointed the direction of the urban area, and prepared to leave. However, at that moment, he suddenly sensed something, and his eyes, having just looked away, returned to the distant fisherman's location.
"Strange, I seem to be sensing a faint Yin Qi. . ."
A trace of doubt in his heart, Yang Haoran closed his eyes and sensed carefully. In the blink of an eye, he opened them again, his gaze locked onto the fisherman's position.
"No mistake, there truly is Yin Qi there, only it's so faint it was almost overlooked."
Thinking this, Yang Haoran couldn't help but feel curious about the fisherman's identity.
He hesitated for a moment, then temporarily changed his route, abandoning his immediate journey to the urban area and instead walking towards the fisherman's position.
To avoid unnecessary trouble, Yang Haoran didn't use any of his powers. Like an ordinary person, he walked step by step towards the fisherman's location.
As he gradually drew closer to the fisherman, Yang Haoran realized that the faint Yin Qi he sensed wasn't emanating from the fisherman himself, but from the river.
Speculations arose in Yang Haoran's mind, but he didn't jump to conclusions. His expression remained unchanged as he finally arrived beside the fisherman.
The fisherman wasn't very old, only in his thirties, appearing slightly older than Yang Haoran. He had only cast a single fishing rod, yet his other equipment was quite complete.
The fisherman noticed someone approaching. He merely glanced at Yang Haoran, then withdrew his gaze, showing no interest whatsoever, and continued watching his float on the water.
The float's position was likely where the fisherman had cast his bait. And it was precisely from this spot that Yang Haoran sensed the Yin Qi emanating.
"Friend, how's the catch? " Yang Haoran asked with a smile, simultaneously producing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from seemingly nowhere, as if performing a magic trick.
True to the adage 'a gift received, a tongue softened,' the man accepted Yang Haoran's cigarette, his expression mellowing considerably.
"No wonder nobody comes fishing here," the man grumbled. "I reckon there aren't even a few fish in this river. I fell for it today. You could beat me to death, and I still wouldn't come back. It's so isolated, you can't even drive a car in; you have to walk a long way."
Yang Haoran merely smiled at the man's complaints, smoking his cigarette without a word.
Seeing Yang Haoran only smile and say nothing, the man didn't continue his rant. Instead, he pulled out his lighter, preparing to light his cigarette.
However, just as he pulled out his lighter, the fishing float, which had been motionless on the water, suddenly plunged down!
The man's expression instantly became excited. Forgetting to light his cigarette, he flung the lighter aside, the unlit cigarette still dangling from his mouth, and with one hand, he sharply jerked the fishing rod upward!
The rod bent, the line stretched taut, and then. . . nothing more happened.
The fishing line didn't make the sound it would when reeling in a big catch, nor was there the expected struggle or powerful tug from beneath the water. The man knew exactly what this meant. RAN; and obes
It wasn't a bite; it was a snag!
The excitement vanished from his face, replaced by a look of utter exasperation. He lowered the rod, then sharply yanked it up again. After several attempts, the hook still hadn't come loose.
"Damn it, what rotten luck! " he cursed. "Not only no fish, but by the looks of it, I'm going to lose a whole spool of line too! This is truly unlucky!"
Muttering curses, the man continued to forcefully yank the fishing rod. A glimmer of hope lingered in his heart that the hook might still come free from the obstruction.
"If I'm not mistaken, you seem to have snagged something," Yang Haoran said with a smile.
The man was already annoyed, and hearing Yang Haoran's words, his temper flared instantly. Although he still had the cigarette Yang Haoran had given him dangling from his mouth, he completely overlooked that fact at the moment, thus giving Yang Haoran no pleasantries whatsoever.
"Isn't that obvious nonsense? " he snapped. "I'm not a goddamn idiot! Of course, I know I snagged something!"
The man's angry outburst still didn't alter Yang Haoran's expression. He said with a smile, "You've misunderstood me. What I meant was, what your hook is snagged on, you might actually be able to pull it up."
"Are you blind? This is clearly snagged on the bottom; how could I possibly pull it up? Unless the hook comes loose, I'll just have to break the line."
Though the man said this, he still tried to forcefully pull the fishing rod upward. The next moment, his expression froze.
As he slowly pulled the rod upward, it truly did come up, though it was bent severely.
"Hey, it really does seem to be coming up! I just wonder what could be so heavy. Could it be treasure? Or antiques?"
Though the man said this, there was no excitement or much curiosity on his face. At this point, he only wanted his hook to come free from whatever it was snagged on, so he wouldn't have to waste a whole fishing line.
The man's movements were cautious; he carefully controlled his strength, afraid to pull too hard for fear of damaging the fishing rod.
If a fishing rod were ruined just for a single fishing line, that would truly be 'losing the wife and losing the army'—a complete and utter loss. He'd probably go berserk then, as in his eyes, his fishing rod was far more important than his own life.
The fishing rod was lifted higher and higher. The Yin Qi Yang Haoran sensed wasn't intensely strong, but it was noticeably denser than before.
Slowly, something surfaced. Both men fixed their gazes on it: it was a burlap sack, bloated and bulging, clearly containing something.
"What's in this bag? " the man questioned. "Why does it smell so bad? Did you fart?"
The man looked at Yang Haoran, asking with a displeased expression.
Yang Haoran didn't respond to the man. He gradually dropped the smile from his face, his gaze fixed on the burlap sack in the water.
Yang Haoran's reaction puzzled the man. He shifted his gaze from Yang Haoran and looked back at the burlap sack.
He hadn't intended to bother with the burlap sack, but his fishhook was firmly snagged on it. Unwilling to waste his fishing line, he simply used his landing net to pull the sack closer, then grabbed it and hauled the not-so-large burlap sack out of the water and onto the bank.
As the burlap sack was brought ashore, the foul odor intensified, emanating directly from within the sack.
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