HDRDTH -Chapter 53 Longhu Reservoir’s “Monster”

Jiangcheng, northern outskirts—Longhu Reservoir.

In the locals’ eyes, this place was practically a forbidden zone.

Surrounded by undeveloped wild mountains, the water stretched so wide that the far shore couldn’t even be seen.

The banks were covered in jagged rocks and wild grass, fenced off with barbed wire, and marked with military-controlled area signs.

A bulletproof black business vehicle was parked at the reservoir’s private dock.

The door opened.

Yu Xian stepped out wearing a gray hoodie and a pair of flip-flops.

Wang Dafu had been waiting for a long time. Today he even changed into a branded outdoor jacket and wore a fishing hat, fully geared up like a professional.

He hurried forward and carefully lifted an exquisitely crafted ebony box from the trunk of the car.

It was heavy—Wang Dafu’s face turned red from straining.

Not far away, Qin Yue stood holding a black UV-protection umbrella in one hand and a thermos in the other.

She looked at Yu Xian walking toward the dock in slippers, completely puzzled.

This man could shake the entire Mandarin pop industry with a single song, and revive bankrupt companies with just a few words of advice.

Yet instead of chasing fame or money, he insisted on coming to this wilderness to act strange.

Qin Yue walked quickly over.

“Master Yu, the yacht is ready,” she said, pointing at a silver private yacht docked nearby. “Security has set up checkpoints five kilometers out. Not even fishing enthusiasts—or stray dogs—can get in. This water area is entirely yours today.”

Yu Xian tugged at his collar and looked at the shimmering lake.

“Good job,” he said, patting Wang Dafu on the shoulder. “Bring everything aboard. We’re settling here today—no one leaves until we get results.”

Wang Dafu nodded enthusiastically. “Got it! With you here, we’re definitely landing something big!”

The yacht engine roared to life, cutting a white trail across the water.

Ten minutes later, they anchored in the middle of the lake.

Yu Xian sat down heavily in a custom leather fishing chair—government-issued, complete with massage function.

Wang Dafu carefully opened the ebony box.

Inside lay the titanium alloy lure rod given by Old Master Qin. In the sunlight, it gleamed with a cold metallic sheen.

Yu Xian took it, feeling the icy texture in his palm. He turned the reel; the gears clicked smoothly with a crisp rhythm.

“This reservoir hasn’t been fished for thirty years,” he muttered, opening his lure box and selecting a deep-diving bait. “Today I must catch something big. If I’m still skunked after this, I’m breaking this rod for firewood.”

He stood up, twisted his waist, and cast.

With a sharp whoosh, the lure flew toward the edge of submerged weeds and landed precisely, splashing a small ring on the water.

He sat down again and began retrieving steadily, fingers feeling every vibration through the rod.

The lure scraped rocks, brushed through weeds—every movement transmitted clearly into his hand.

Minutes passed.

The water remained dead still.

Not a bubble.

Yu Xian frowned, reeled in, and examined the lure.

“The underwater terrain is complex,” he muttered. “The fish are probably hiding in deep pits.”

He swapped to a spinner blade and cast again.

Then he tried everything in the box—metal spoons, pencil baits, minnows, soft worms.

Fast retrieves, slow retrieves, pauses—everything.

Still nothing.

Not even a nibble.

The water was so quiet it felt unsettling.

By late afternoon, the sun tilted westward. A cold wind brushed across their faces.

Wang Dafu, who had been holding a huge landing net, eventually leaned against the railing and dozed off, drooling slightly.

Qin Yue refilled her thermos four times. Finally, she couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Boss,” she said, walking over and handing him the thermos. “Have some water. You haven’t eaten all day.”

Yu Xian raised a hand without looking.

“Don’t talk,” he said through clenched teeth, staring at the water. “These fish are testing my patience. If I hold on, the next cast will definitely be a monster.”

Qin Yue sighed and stepped back.

By the time the sun fully set, mist rose over the lake and cold wind cut into their clothes.

An entire afternoon—and half the night.

Not only no monster fish—he didn’t even catch a small whitebait. Not even a piece of weed.

Yu Xian lifted his rod.

The hook was empty.

He slammed the rod onto the deck with a sharp clang.

Pointing at the dark water, he shouted:

“Are you messing with me?!”

“I can pull missiles and bronze artifacts out of random sewage ditches! And here—this premium reservoir, cleared by security, open 24/7—and you won’t even give me a proper fish?!”

Wang Dafu jolted awake, dropping the net.

He rushed over.

“Dad, calm down,” he said quickly, forcing a smile. “Think about it—we didn’t attract the police, no news reports, no cultural relic experts showing up. That means your ‘special attribute’ was suppressed! That’s a good thing!”

Yu Xian turned and glared at him.

“If you can’t speak, sew your mouth shut,” he snapped. “Start the boat. We’re going home!”

On the way back, the car was eerily silent.

Yu Xian leaned back in the seat, staring out the window.

They passed a night market. Food stalls were brightly lit, steam rising everywhere.

At one stall, a huge iron pot simmered fish head soup. White fish meat rolled in milky broth.

Yu Xian immediately pressed the window button, sealing it shut.

“Drive faster,” he said with his eyes closed. “I don’t want to see anything with scales.”

Wang Dafu floored the accelerator.

At Jinsui Bay villa, the car stopped.

Wang Dafu opened the door.

Yu Xian stepped out in flip-flops.

At 8 p.m., he entered the house, changed into slippers, and collapsed onto the sofa.

Su Xi was doing homework. She immediately ran over.

“Uncle Yu, you’re back!” she said, leaning over the sofa.

Yu Xian gave a weak grunt, not even lifting his eyes.

Today’s failure at fishing hit harder than fighting dozens of strong men. The physical exhaustion was nothing—the mental damage was the worst.

Su Xi tugged his sleeve.

“Uncle, our school is holding an arts festival next week,” she said.

“Uh-huh,” Yu Xian muttered, still thinking about the empty hook.

“We all need to bring our parents for a stage performance,” she continued. “My classmates say my dad is a super famous music genius. They all want to see you… Uncle, come with me, okay?”

Yu Xian sat up and rubbed his face.

“Stage performance?” he waved immediately. “No. Don’t ask me. I’m never going on stage again.”

Su Xi froze. Her lips curled, eyes reddening.

Su Wanyi walked over.

“Yu Xian, it’s just for the child’s fun. Why such a big reaction?” she said gently.

Yu Xian exploded.

“I spent the whole day at a thirty-year restricted reservoir, using a titanium rod, and didn’t catch a single fish!” he pointed at himself. “I’m a certified air-force fisherman! What am I supposed to do on stage? Have a live breakdown?!”

Silence filled the room.

Only the kitchen pressure cooker hissed.

Su Xi started crying.

She stubbornly pulled a crumpled poster from her bag and slapped it onto the table.

“That new classmate said her uncle is a top pop superstar!” she cried. “He said ‘The Lonely Brave’ is trash, and my dad can’t even read sheet music!”

She pointed at the center of the poster—a man in a sequined suit.

“He said he’ll expose us on stage next week!”

Yu Xian’s irritation froze instantly.

His expression darkened.