Qin Jingzhong had been an accomplished fisherman since childhood. When he first joined the ** back in the day, he specifically fished to improve the meals for the senior leadership. After the liberation, he never let go of this hobby, and upon retiring from his post in his later years, he spent even more time fishing in rivers and the sea, making his technique exceptionally seasoned.

For this purpose, he had acquired a special pair of glasses and a wide-brimmed straw hat that had been his companion for years; his gear was utterly complete.

Wang Zhuo, on the other hand, was someone who preferred movement over stillness and had only fished a few times when he was idle. When he first received the fishing gear Qin Jingzhong lent him, he didn't even know how to bait the hook.

But now, Wang Zhuo’s creel was packed with seven grass carp, each weighing over a jin, flopping vigorously inside, while Qin Jingzhong only had four, one of which might not even reach a jin. The disparity was truly amusing in a frustrating way.

Qin Jingzhong thought to himself, This brat, really shows no deference to the elderly.

Another fish bit the hook. As soon as the float gave a slight tremble, the old man noticed it keenly. After a few slight quivers, at the moment the float suddenly plunged down, he gave a sharp flick of the rod, immediately hoisting a large fish out of the water.

The old man’s technique was clearly perfected; the women cooling off and chatting in the shade on the opposite bank let out a synchronized cheer.

But Wang Zhuo, sitting three meters away from Qin Jingzhong, just chuckled, because he had already figured out before the fish even bit that this was another undersized catch—eight liang at most.

Indeed, as the old man lifted the rod, before the fish even broke the surface, Wang Zhuo analyzed from his seasoned experience that the fish was too light, almost certainly failing to meet the standard agreed upon with him. Once the fish emerged, he sighed inwardly—just as he expected.

With disappointment, he merely instructed the driver, Xiao Ping, standing nearby, to unhook the fish, put it in the creel, and take it to the pond on the side. This fish no longer mattered to their wager; the resort owner could deal with it however he wished.

Just as he baited his hook with fresh bait, Wang Zhuo gave a light "hngh" beside him. He yanked his rod sharply sideways, causing the tip to bend almost into a full bowstring. The transparent line snapped taut, and then a splash erupted on the water surface as a large fish burst forth.

"Go, Brother Wang Zhuo!"

Qin Siqing shouted joyfully from the shade of the trees.

Guan Yingying, Zhen Jin, and Qin Siqing offered Wang Zhuo sparse applause, as he was now only one big fish away from victory with his nine large catches.

Qin Jingzhong puffed out his beard, utterly displeased. Wang Zhuo consistently caught fish over one jin, while his own frequent lifts were always accompanied by questionable, underweight specimens teasing him. In terms of quantity, he had certainly pulled in at least twice as many as Wang Zhuo, but in terms of quality, he was already halfway behind.

Wang Zhuo unhooked the fish from the hook with a complete lack of finesse, clearly inexperienced. The fish slipped from his grasp and suddenly dropped onto the ground, bouncing twice before landing just a meter from Qin Jingzhong.

If this fish gets away, I still have a sliver of hope for victory… Old Qin thought slyly.

Suddenly, he noticed the fish’s hook was embedded from the outside to the inside of its lower jaw. Qin Jingzhong, having fished his whole life, had encountered every situation, and this was no exception. The strange thing was, a fish swallowing the bait could never produce this kind of hooking effect; this was an accidental fluke born of improbable timing.

To put it plainly, Wang Zhuo had struck pure, ridiculous luck, landing a fish that should never have been hooked.

This kid is even lucky at fishing… Old Master Qin forced a wry smile; he couldn't argue against it.

He didn't know that Wang Zhuo’s bait had already been eaten by a half-jin carp. Because it was too small, Wang Zhuo hadn't lifted the rod. Later, this large fish passed by the hook while consuming the bits of bait Wang Zhuo had been scattering into the water, only to be hooked when Wang Zhuo suddenly jerked the rod, catching it in the lower jaw.

Qin Jingzhong’s fishing prowess relied on innate talent honed by skill and experience. Wang Zhuo, however, was securing victory through a cheating implement that allowed him to see everything underwater: a pair of X-ray eyes.

Qin Jingzhong had stayed at this resort for a week, previously engaging in contests against military leaders, local officials, and fishing experts, winning every time. He had invited Wang Zhuo over today hoping to cultivate Wang Zhuo’s interest in fishing, never expecting that while Wang Zhuo’s technique was mediocre, his luck was so incredibly sharp it bordered on world-class competition level.

Qin Jingzhong now felt only one thing: How utterly humiliating…

“My grandpa is definitely going to lose,” said Qin Siqing, rocking happily in her deck chair under the large tree.

Zhen Jin nodded. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen Old Qin lose a fishing match to someone else.”

“Wang Zhuo’s luck is just too good; Old Qin couldn’t avoid losing even if he wanted to,” Guan Yingying agreed, deeply feeling the sentiment. Because every time Wang Zhuo lifted his rod, it was either because the bait was gone and needed replenishing, or he landed a fish over a jin. He never suffered the disappointment of hooking a small fish that didn’t count.

Due to the heat, Qin Siqing was only wearing a thin camisole today, paired with denim shorts thirty centimeters wide—for someone of her standing, this was the absolute limit of cool attire, and it couldn't be any shorter.

The scent of youthful freshness emanating from the girl was captivating. Guan Yingying beside her was no less striking; her dress was made of perfectly tailored sheer fabric, and she too sported a pair of bare, long legs with sandals. The two girls’ figures were strikingly similar in shape, the only difference being that Guan Yingying was about seven years older than Qin Siqing—one slightly mature, the other freshly green.

Zhen Jin’s attire was slightly more conservative. Given her status, it wasn't appropriate for her to dress too fashionably or revealingly. However, the outline of her underwear was clearly visible beneath her thin slacks, and her short-sleeved shirt billowed slightly in the breeze, offering a glimpse of the white, lacy ing top underneath.

It was so hot, after all, that wearing something sheer