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Now reading: Chapter 141 - 140: Fishing from Landlord in the Arctic, a Fantasy novel by Old Klin.

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Standing on the newly built wooden bridge with a stream murmuring below, Feng Shan suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

"What do you guys think about putting so fish in this river?"

"Then we can fish by the riverside whenever we want. Feel like fish for dinner? Just co and catch so. What do you all think?"

’Of all the things to be thinking about right now, it’s fishing.’

’What if one day the camp and the Ice River get blown sky-high? There won’t be a single fish scale left.’

His brow furrowed, David looked at Feng Shan, not sure whether to laugh or cry.

"I agree," Erica said, the first to raise her hand.

Maria thought it was a great idea, too. Even though they had delicious reindeer at every day, as an Inuit, fish was an essential part of her diet.

"So, are we going fishing?" Tammy asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Yves and Nash offered no opinion. One was his personal bodyguard, the other his loyal follower; they would unconditionally support whatever Feng Shan said.

Jenny, uninterested in fishing, turned and headed back to the villa to prepare lunch.

"Alright, let’s head out. Rember, the fishing rods are still at Little Grandma’s place." Feng Shan grinned. He was finding Frank’s new nickna more and more natural to use.

"Let’s go find Grandma Frank!" Erica shouted, always happy to stir the pot.

David was left behind to continue investigating why the Ice River was lting, while the others hopped on their snowmobiles, sped across the wooden bridge, and headed for the bus camp.

Just as they crossed the wooden bridge...

Feng Shan spotted three furry balls huddled together in the snow from a distance.

’Hmm, their fur looks familiar.’

Emma!!

Aren’t these the three little ones from the Crown Territory!

’What are they doing here?’

Feng Shan quickly braked his snowmobile. "Coca-Cola? Prince? Princess?"

Hearing his voice, the three little ones imdiately looked up and ran excitedly toward Feng Shan, yipping and owing as they went. Prince was the loudest of them all.

When they reached him, they began circling the snowmobile. Coca-Cola leaped right on, shook the snow from his fur, and snuggled into Feng Shan’s arms, owing affectionately.

Princess pawed at the side of the vehicle. Being too short to climb up, her hind legs kicked frantically as she whimpered in frustration.

"Up you go!" Feng Shan scooped up Princess and set her on the seat. He then turned to Prince, who was still yelping. "Still barking? Are you getting on or not!"

Prince’s eyes went wide. He continued to whimper excitedly, even starting to roll around and pounce in the snow.

’You people are unbelievable!!’

’We go out to play for a bit, and when we co back, the house is gone!!’

’You didn’t even say a word! We ended up finding our way to the riverbank, and the damn Ice River was lting!’

’We had to spend the night huddled in the snow.’

’So what? Can’t I even yell at you for a bit?’

Feng Shan seed to guess why Prince was angry. He looked at the others. "We moved yesterday. Did no one tell Coca-Cola and the others?"

"They ran off into the forest yesterday. We couldn’t find them, so how were we supposed to tell them?" Erica shrugged.

"That’s right!" Tammy added with a nod.

Hearing the girls’ explanation, Prince imdiately whipped his head around and launched a volley of barks at them.

"That’s enough!" Feng Shan said, starting the snowmobile. "You’re the one who wanders off all day, and now you bla us for not telling you. Are you coming or not? I’m leaving!"

Prince imdiately leaped onto the back of the snowmobile, nearly shoving Princess off. At the sa ti, he shot the girls a smug, disdainful look.

"You damn dog! How dare you look down on !" Erica shook her fist.

WOOF WOOF WOOF!!

’Yeah? What are you gonna do, bite ?’

Prince looked utterly triumphant.

...

「The Bus Camp.」

Wisps of white smoke drifted from the bus’s rooftop chimney, rising slowly into the crisp, cold air.

Feng Shan and his group sped into the clearing and shouted toward the bus.

"Little Grandma, you in there?"

Erica and Tammy, thinking this was hilarious, joined in the teasing.

"Grandma Frank, co on out!"

"Grandma Frank, we’re here!"

Their calls, laced with playful cheer, echoed through the air.

A mont later, the bus door creaked open. Frank erged, holding a book and wearing a dark scowl.

"That’s enough. Believe , I will sue you."

Seeing Frank’s fuming expression, Feng Shan fought back a laugh. "We’re not just shouting nonsense. You’re my elder now, after all."

Frank shot Feng Shan a glare and sighed in resignation. "Stop fooling around. If you need sothing, just say it."

"It’s nothing, really. The Ice River around the new camp is lting, so I was thinking of catching so fish to stock it." Feng Shan hopped off his snowmobile and walked toward the work shed. He rembered there were a few plastic barrels inside used for curing at.

’The Ice River... for raising fish!’

Frank shook his head, speechless.

’What a ridiculous idea. That’s all snowlt from the mountains. How could fish possibly survive in it?’

"You all have fun. I’m going back to my book."

"Got it. Co to our place for lunch," Feng Shan said, erging from the shed shouldering a large plastic barrel. "Nash, go grab the fishing rods."

The group loaded their gear onto a sled, left the camp on their snowmobiles, and headed for Gem Lake.

As winter had just begun, a thin layer of ice had ford along the shores of the deep Gem Lake. Farther out, however, the water still rippled, revealing a profound, dark blue.

The thin ice along the shore glinted in the sunlight, looking as if nature itself had set the lake with a silver border.

As the cold wind swept by, the thin ice emitted a faint CRACKLE, as if whispering of winter’s silent arrival.

Feng Shan first filled the plastic barrel halfway with water, then took out a fishing rod and baited the hook with a piece of fresh musk ox at.

He raised the rod, cast forcefully toward the deep water, and then began reeling the line back in at a steady pace.

He could see the line cutting through the water, but there were no bites.

A few more casts yielded the sa result.

"Khilla, it’s winter, so the fish aren’t very active," Yves kindly advised. "They usually stay in the deep water. You should try casting a bit farther out."

Erica burst out laughing. "Feng, are you sure you know what you’re doing? Why don’t you let try?"

’Know what I’m doing?’

Feng Shan shot the smug Erica an irritated look. As he reeled in the line, he gave the bait a gentle squeeze.

He cast the rod out again with force.

Just as Erica was about to mock Feng Shan again, the line on his rod suddenly went taut. It then began zipping erratically across the lake’s surface.

Fish on!

Feng Shan yanked his rod up and began to reel in the line, not forgetting to fire back at Erica.

"So, do I know what I’m doing, or not?"

"Hmph. Dumb luck," Erica muttered, pursing her lips.

Soon, he had reeled the line to the shore. A fish that looked a lot like a catfish appeared in the clear water. Its body was grayish-green, covered in spots of various sizes.

’What a weird-colored catfish. It looks moldy.’

’Definitely can’t eat this.’

Back when he ran a restaurant, Feng Shan only ever used the local four-whiskered "earth catfish." Many other places, however, would cut corners and use low-quality fard catfish. If you didn’t mask the flavor of that garbage fish with a ton of seasoning, the at would be rank.

Feng Shan reached down, about to pull the hook from the catfish’s mouth.

"Khilla, you’re not keeping the fish?" Yves asked from the side, confused.

Feng Shan shook his head and said with distaste, "It’s a catfish. They’re no good to eat."

’Catfish???’

Yves frowned, quickly taking the rod and pulling the fish closer to shore. "Khilla, this isn’t a catfish. It’s a burbot—a freshwater cod. They’re delicious."

"You idiot. Even in Alaska, burbot are rare," Erica jeered, seizing the chance to get one up on him.

’Burbot?’

Feng Shan imdiately changed his grip, hooking his fingers into the burbot’s gills and hoisting it out of the water.

It wasn’t small, either—nearly a ter long and probably weighing around twelve or thirteen pounds. It must have had a hard ti finding food this winter, or it would have been even heavier.

Likely from the stress, the burbot began to thrash violently in the plastic barrel, splashing water everywhere.

Feng Shan dipped his hand into the water and channeled a stream of the Breathing Technique. The burbot imdiately cald down, its large mouth gaping as it gulped down the lake water in the barrel.

With the first fish settled, he continued fishing.

Soon, Feng Shan was pulling one large fish after another onto the shore. The plastic barrel was filled to the brim, and even Coca-Cola was rewarded with a whitefish.

Yves and Nasht took the full plastic barrel back to the new camp. They had expected many of the fish to die in transit, but to their surprise, when they poured them into the Ice River, every last one was alive and kicking.

Seeing Feng Shan’s non-stop success, Erica shalessly walked over to the lakeside and held out her hand.

"I want to fish too! Let try!"

"You? You think you can handle it?" Feng Shan shot her a look of disdain that nearly drove Erica mad, but he handed over the rod nonetheless.

"Let tell you sothing, I was a fishing champion as a kid!" Erica declared, lifting her chin proudly. She expertly baited a new hook and cast her line. The bait sailed through the air in a perfect arc before splashing into the water.

Heh.

’A fishing champion, is she?’

’She’s about to be the champion of catching nothing.’

The corner of Feng Shan’s mouth curled up. Suddenly, he saw a flock of Thunderbirds take flight from a patch of withered bushes on the shore, landing a short distance away.

’Heh, it’s been a while since I’ve had Thunderbird at.’

"You guys stay here and fish, don’t wander off. I’m going to go hunt a few Thunderbirds." As he spoke, Feng Shan walked over to his snowmobile, grabbed his Type 56 carbine, and headed toward the flock with Prince and Princess in tow.

The Thunderbird is the stupidest animal in Alaska, bar none.

Even when Feng Shan was well within firing range, they kept their heads down, pecking at the snow with an arrogant indifference, as if he wasn’t even there.

He raised the carbine and pulled the trigger.

BANG!

Startled by the gunshot, the flock of Thunderbirds burst into the air with a flurry of wings, flew about ten ters, then landed again and went right back to pecking at the snow for food.

The instant the shot rang out, Prince bolted.

It was Princess’s first ti on a hunt and she hadn’t yet learned when to charge. By the ti she started to run, Prince was already trotting back to Feng Shan’s side with a dead Thunderbird in his mouth.

"Good boy!" Feng Shan said, scratching Prince’s head before raising his rifle again.

BANG! BANG! BANG!!

A rapid series of gunshots spelled disaster for the flock of Thunderbirds.

Princess stayed obediently by Feng Shan’s side. After watching Prince charge out a few tis, she learned how to retrieve the quarry herself.

In no ti at all, there were seven or eight Thunderbirds at Feng Shan’s feet. That was about enough for one al, so he was preparing to stop.

Suddenly,

a pair of large antlers appeared on the nearby tundra.

They weren’t like reindeer antlers, which are branched and C-shaped. These were flat and palmated, like shovels.

There was only one animal in Alaska with antlers like that, and it happened to be the largest mber of the deer family.

A moose!

He’d been here for so long and had hunted Thunderbirds, wolves, brown bears, and reindeer, but never a moose.

’Since we’ve run into each other, I guess it’s your unlucky day. We’re almost out of the musk ox from the last hunt, anyway.’

Feng Shan put his fingers to his lips and let out a sharp whistle.

Nash, who was by the lake keeping an eye on Erica, heard the whistle and imdiately gunned his snowmobile toward Feng Shan.

The moose heard the whistle too, and after a flick of its head, it bolted deeper into the tundra.

Nash pulled up on the snowmobile. Feng Shan grabbed his carbine, hopped onto the back, and pointed in the direction the moose had fled.

"That way! There’s a moose!"

...

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