"Do you have a spare? If not, use mine, but the line is thinner, only 2.5! Not sure if you're used to it!" Zhang Yang asked enthusiastically as he saw the other person rummaging through the fishing box.
"I have another set of size three, but I'm hesitant to use it! What's up with these lines? They keep snapping in the same spot!"
"Just use mine for now! We can figure it out after the rush!"
Zhang Yang took out the largest 2.5 size line from his main line box and handed it to Han Qiang, then continued casting to attract fish.
Han Qiang didn't hesitate, taking it and switching, then adjusting the bobber to fish.
Strangely enough, the size four lines snapped twice, but after switching to Zhang Yang's 2.5, they didn't snap again. Han Qiang managed to catch two more fish until the bites stopped, and the lines didn't snap again.
By now, forty minutes had passed since the start of fishing. Under Zhang Yang's constant high-frequency Triangle Cannon bombardment, the action at the spot was already very intense, and the anglers on both sides had no bites.
Sensing the time was right, Zhang Yang decisively switched to dough bait for fish, officially starting to fish.
Given the long preparation of attracting fish, the result of catching fish was predictable.
As long as the double hooks reached the bottom, there would be an exaggeratedly large bite when they settled, showing a strong desire to feed.
From then on, Zhang Yang felt no pressure, catching fish one after another. When the bites slowed a bit, he'd immediately cast a few times to the same spot, forcefully slowing down his pace, extending the fishing time as much as possible.
At first, Han Qiang didn't notice, but when he came to and saw Zhang Yang catching fish one after another, he couldn't help himself.
"Damn it, snapping the big line delayed me big time! All the fish in my spot ran over to you!" Han Qiang mumbled.
Zhang Yang chuckled: "Increase the frequency; you might still catch a few! The whole pit hasn't stopped, don't give up!"
"Frequency, eh? I don't really get it. I guess that's it for today! Six fish, it's been fun enough!"
Han Qiang was quite satisfied with his haul, which surprised Zhang Yang a bit.
"You're pretty Zen about fishing!"
"Zen? What's that mean? I'm quite content with six fish. In the places we used to fish, sometimes we'd get one or two after a whole day!
This new big line I tied must be off; I'll ask Old Ma about it later!"
Hearing this, Zhang Yang didn't say much else, continuing to patiently work his spot, pulling a fish up every few casts, slowly increasing his catch, unknowingly breaking the ten-fish mark.
As time approached nine-thirty, everyone's bites had slowed down considerably.
Next to him, Han Qiang hadn't had a bite for nearly an hour. Only near the aerator at the north bank midsection were the bites faster, about the same as Zhang Yang's spot.
There weren't many fish left in Zhang Yang's spot either. To control the spot as much as possible, he had done everything he could.
In such a low-density fishing ground, fish behavior was like this, unlike at Oil House, where position mattered significantly, and a good spot could snowball your catch with technique.
At Meng Village, with a thousand pounds of fish and over thirty anglers, the average was less than thirty pounds each. Realistically, that meant ten fish per person, not counting those that got away, snagged fish, or those that didn't bite.
The catchable fish were mostly already hooked by anglers in such conditions, so Zhang Yang's 24 fish were quite impressive.
Patiently enduring further, with less and less activity in the spot, Zhang Yang saw the situation and simply moved the bobber up half a meter, pushing the lead weight directly to the bottom of the bobber.
Using a large lead, he aimed for any fish around the spot, fishing the empty area before packing up!
With that adjustment, he brought in two more fish from the distance, raising his catch to 26!
Draining the spot, Zhang Yang set down his fishing rod and stretched, satisfied with the morning's fishing in such a regular fishing ground, where he felt more at ease.
At this moment, Old Zhao strolled over with a cigarette in his mouth.
He casually handed over a bottle of iced tea and asked, "How's it going? Any bites left?"
Zhang Yang shook his head: "Caught the last two with a large lead! Now it's quiet! How many did you catch today, Brother Zhao?"
"17 fish! About forty to fifty pounds!
The fishing here isn't as thrilling as at Oil House; a few pounds of sporadic bait, and the bites just stop! How many did you catch? I saw your bites were quick from across!"
Hearing this, Zhang Yang replied: "Over twenty fish; the density is what it is. When the fish are gone, the bites naturally stop! Places like Oil House are exceptions; this is the typical condition in a black pit fishing ground."
The two were speaking softly when Han Qiang next door overheard and couldn't help but exclaim: "Wow! You caught over twenty? I thought you only had about a dozen fish!"
After fishing next to him for a few hours, Zhang Yang had already gotten used to Han Qiang's startled personality — this guy's nerves were quite big.
"Haha, I have you to thank for that! If not for your snapped lines, I might've caught a few less!" Zhang Yang chuckled, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and offering it.
"By the way, why does your line feel so tough even though it's only 2.5? I still have a size three I didn't dare use, bought from the same place. Could you take a look when you have time, so I can find out what's wrong and talk to him later?"
"Sure!" Zhang Yang readily agreed.
Soon, Han Qiang took out a wooden spool from his fishing box and handed it over.
Zhang Yang took the main line and, with just a glance, made a basic judgment.
This isn't a carefully hand-tied big line. Judging from its appearance, it's actually a very cheap, mass-produced main line worth about a buck each, and not even of good quality.
The Chinese nylon line wasn't dyed evenly, and it was thick, hard, and rough to the touch.
Besides the low quality material, what Zhang Yang couldn't accept was that the knot at the end of the big line was very unprofessionally tied.
It wasn't the standard figure-eight knot but rather a simple dead knot.
This kind of dead knotting significantly weakened the post-knot strength, no wonder both big lines snapped at this point.
"Did you grab the wrong one when you bought it? This is a hand-tied line?" Zhang Yang frowned and asked.
"I don't know, Old Ma said he tied it himself, so not to worry!" Han Qiang replied.
Zhang Yang handed the line spool to Old Zhao, who took one look and sneered: "This thing at Zhang Yang's shop is worth at most two bucks!
It's more likely to be sold to an old man fishing on the Wen River who doesn't want to spend money on good line. Anyone even slightly particular wouldn't use this!
Buddy, you've been scammed!"
Han Qiang had already suspected something was off, and hearing it from Zhang Yang and Old Zhao confirmed he'd been had.
"Damn it! That Old Ma screwed me! I'll have a word with him later!"
"For frequent fishing, it's best to buy whole spools and tie it yourself! It's cheaper and more reliable! Don't worry, it's just a line, no big deal!" Zhang Yang consoled, adding a special remark.
Zhang Yang didn't know at the time that a casual chat would end up offending someone further!