If it were the early stage when there were fish in the spot, Old Ma could have made such a prediction, but now it's been more than ten minutes without a bite? What's going on?
The heated argument was no longer important; Old Ma was now just full of big questions in his head. How did he do it?
"Can't figure out how I did it? Not going to tell you!"
Zhang Yang, as if reading minds, grinned and used the rod's strength to lift the fish out of the water, quickly netting it. Another catch for him!
Just by saying he's not going to tell, Zhang Yang completely rattled Ma Yuhua's mind.
He could no longer focus on the ongoing competition, his mind entirely occupied with Zhang Yang's almost miraculous fishing display earlier.
It wasn't until the competition's end bell rang that he finally lifted his head, dazed and confused.
As the competition reached its latter half, less than half of the anglers remained at their spots. Upon hearing the end whistle, everyone put down their rods.
Meng Xiangqiu, holding a megaphone, said, "All brothers who withdrew early, please do not wander around during weighing!
Once the weighing is over, you can continue fishing until six in the evening! Now, starting with weigh-ins from South Shore No.1!"
Soon, Old Meng, along with another helping guy and Lang Junfeng who was responsible for recording the results, began to tally the scores one by one.
Pulling the fishkeeper out of the water, the catch was poured into a plastic basket, covered with a blanket, quickly stabilizing the electronic scale's weight. Lang Junfeng then recorded the fish weights into the score sheet, awaiting the final results for ranking.
To be fair, the tactics Zhang Yang taught the team, the 'frog grasp' and 'big lead fly', had very apparent effects.
Especially the 'frog grasp' in the early fishing stage, was quite effective in snatching fish when everyone was generally fishing at a distance in the pit.
As the competition ended, none of the five had given up early; they were waiting for the weighing, evidently confident in their total catch weight.
The weigh-ins proceeded one by one, and it soon reached Zhao Bingguang at the No.4 fishing spot.
Old Zhao had caught quite well in the preliminary rounds, now leisurely smoking as he glanced at the meager catch next door at No.3, happily grabbing his fishkeeper to lift up his catch.
At least twenty fish, even more than the total catch of the first three people.
"Not bad, Old Zhao, caught quite a bit! This must be over fifty pounds!" Meng Xiangqiu couldn't help but exclaim seeing so many catches.
"Didn't perform too well, just average," Zhao Bingguang, humbly bragging, distributed cigarettes.
Soon, the fish weight came out; with the basket and cover, the result was 54.2 pounds!
In a competition with 1,100 pounds of fish distributed, the average person had just over thirty pounds; Old Zhao's gross weight of over fifty pounds far surpassed the average.
Noting down Zhao Bingguang's score, Lang Junfeng began to calculate mentally, wondering how the catch of the expert his senior brother found turned out. At the first half, the bites seemed quite frequent.
Now, Old Lang was hopeful, but as the subsequent scores were successively weighed, after Wang Yan at No.9 struggled to lift his fishkeeper, his heart sank halfway.
Wang Yan's catch was even more than Zhao Bingguang's, with the gross weight of 63.5 pounds! Once again setting a temporary first place for the catches already measured.
Next was Chen Xueqiang, equipped with imported bait and the best fishing spot.
Lang Junfeng, hopeful, lent a hand while lifting the fishkeeper, but the weight feedback made him not at all happy.
The fishkeeper felt light in his hands, with only a poor ten or so after pulling it out of the water, at least half less compared to Wang Yan earlier. Weighing resulted in 29.5 pounds.
"Little Chen, you're off your game today!" Lang Junfeng spoke with implications.
"Don't mention it, got tangled in a big line three times in one session, real bad vibes today!" Chen Xueqiang irritably smoothed his coifed dorsal haircut.
"No worries, perform well next time!" responded Lang Junfeng indifferently, already cursing internally.
The best performer not doing well meant the rest of the anglers were practically a giveaway!
Old Lang lost hope for the upcoming results, among the anglers he signed up, none showed fast bites during the competition. The only slightly faster one was Chen Xueqiang, and he only caught half of what others did, ending in disappointment.
Despite losing expectations, weighing must still continue, now there's the matter of the championship winner.
The North Bank hasn't been weighed yet; earlier, Lang Junfeng noticed that Zhang Yang caught fish intermittently, it was uncertain who had caught more between him and Wang Yan from the South Bank.
After busying for more than half an hour, the results finally came in.
Zhang Yang, 71.8 pounds, first place.
Wang Yan, 63.5 pounds, second place.
Meng Fan, 55.1 pounds, third place.
Zhao Bingguang, 54.2 pounds, fourth place.
Wang Jun, 47.9 pounds, fifth place.
The seeded player before fishing, Chen Xueqiang, 29.5 pounds, Ma Yuhua gave up weighing, packed up and left after the competition ended.
The originally hopeful Black Pit Friendship Tournament organized by Lang Junfeng ended with an unimaginable result.
Zhang Yang's group of five entered the competition as they had proudly claimed before, dominantly taking the top five spots!
Wang Yan, holding two mini puddings with some flair, licked them alternately, saying, "Haha, Little Zhang, you can do it! Even with Old Ma next to you, you still took first! Impressive!"
Zhang Yang smiled, "Just luck, just lucky! You did well too! Took advantage of the middle position!"
Old Zhao saw the two exchanging compliments: "Stop blowing each other's trumpets, the competition is over, let's chat about where to celebrate for lunch!"
Zhang Yang, smiling, said, "No rush, the competition prizes haven't been awarded yet!"
"Oh right, too excited, almost forgot about receiving the awards! It's Ming Lun's rod for the prize, right? I'm just in need of a rod!" Wang Yan continued.
Zhao Bingguang, also smoking, chimed in, "Right, during the award photo, bring Little Zhang's bait package for advertising!
Little Zhang, I have a premonition that after this friendship tournament, you're going to be famous!"
Old Zhao's words held true. The fact was, the purpose of organizing the competition by Lang Junfeng was to expand his shop's visibility and influence while arranging for some experts to win good rankings to promote his bait.
However, unexpectedly, Zhang Yang's small team of five was so formidable, taking all top five winning spots, without letting any competitors in!
In this kind of randomly drawn black pit competition, taking the top five was the best advertisement for the product. Poor Old Lang's hard work directly benefitted Zhang Yang.
By the award ceremony at eleven, the five anglers holding Ming Lun's special supply bait packaging bags stood on the stage. All spectators present, regardless of which shop they frequented before, couldn't contain their excitement.