King of the Wilderness

Lin Yu’an returned to the rectangular ice trough that he had enlarged, and at that moment, his sense of anticipation reached its peak!

He squatted down and began pulling the gigantic ”closed loop rope”, his movements steady, his eyes fixed intently on the deep ice trough, floating with fragments of ice.

Underneath the ice, the ”underwater wall” began to slowly move in the darkness.

He started rhythmically, hand over hand, retrieving the rope, the wet and cold nylon sliding evenly through his gloved palms.

All that was transmitted back was the dull drag of the water on the fifteen-meter long fishing net, a lifeless weight.

The world beneath the ice seemed utterly silent, and the unchanging feedback from the rope sank his heart.

Could it be that a whole night of waiting and meticulous setup were all in vain?

Just as his patience was about to run out and he started feeling a tinge of disappointment, a very faint yet unmistakably clear tremor came through the rope!

It was not the pulsing of water; it was a brief, life-like twitch that suddenly disrupted the monotonous rhythm!

It was like a faint electric current, transmitting precisely from the dark riverbed along the taut rope to Lin Yu’an’s hand.

Lin Yu’an’s pupils suddenly contracted, and his spirit lifted—he had caught something!

He didn’t exert a sudden force, as that would alarm the catch, and might even tear the net! He maintained a steady rhythm, only slightly quickening the pace, allowing the net to move smoothly and steadily under the water towards the ice trough.

Soon, in the deep ice trough before him, a blur of silvery white flashed through the nearly black river water!

As the net drew nearer, that silvery white became increasingly clear, finally, a sleek figure was dragged into the illuminated area of the ice trough!

It was a lake whitefish, nearly forty centimeters long, plump and hefty, clearly having darted into the net’s mesh headfirst while swimming, its head having passed through smoothly.

But when it tried to retreat or struggle, its open gills and stout body became tightly ensnared in the nylon mesh. At that moment, it was futilely flicking its tail, stirring up small splashes of water.

Next, towards the middle and back of the net, appeared a second, more vividly colored figure! It was an Arctic Red Spot Salmon.

Its size was slightly smaller, but sunlight shining through the ice trough illuminated its beautifully spotted back, especially the fin edges with their distinctive, fiery orange-red, standing out vividly in the dim river water.

When the entire fifteen-meter long fishing net was completely hauled out of the water, lying wetly on the snow, the catch was apparent at a glance—just these two fish, along with some entwined water plants and dead branches.

It wasn’t the expected heavy, bounty-laden net full of fish, but the night of waiting wasn’t in vain, after all.

Lin Yu’an carefully released the two fish from the netting, not yanking them out, but pinching their heads with his fingers and pushing their bodies back out of the mesh, the method that least damages the net and best preserves the catch.

”Two!” he exhaled a breath of white air, not disappointed, but rather satisfied with the validation!

”Not many, but it’s no longer a failure; this proves the method completely workable.”

Given the extremely low activity of aquatic life in winter, achieving such a catch with a homemade net was an indisputable great success.

Lin Yu’an placed the two fish on the clean snow beside him; after a couple of knocks, they quickly ceased to struggle. Then, he lifted one end of the net and skillfully shook it to clear off the tangled water plants and small debris.

Next, by pulling the rope loop again, he redeployed the cleaned ”underwater wall” beneath the ice and secured it once more with a twisted wooden stake.

He believed that with this success, a bigger surprise would surely await him next time!

Carrying the two fish, Lin Yu’an ducked back into the warmth of the ice fishing shelter. The wind and snow outside seemed isolated in another world, while inside, only the quiet burn of charcoal and the gradually rising warmth prevailed.

He didn’t rush back to his shelter; these two hard-won fresh catches would make the perfect breakfast for the day and an immediate reward for his success.

Kneeling on the ground, he spread out a piece of birch bark as a cutting board. Using the tip of the Hunting Knife, he deftly sliced open the thin belly of the Arctic Red Spot Salmon upwards from the vent, with precision, avoiding any damage to the internal organs.

He then carefully inserted his fingers to extract the entire set of internal organs intact, the slippery sensation vivid to his touch.

Afterward, he wiped away the black peritoneum lining the inside of the fish’s belly, along with any residual blood lines, using a handful of clean, fluffy snow from outside the shelter.

The snow’s coldness and friction made it the best cleaning agent, swiftly leaving the inside of the fish belly spotless, revealing only snow-white, fresh fish meat.

He scrutinized the two fish, the slightly larger lake whitefish, firm in texture but thick with large scales, troublesome to handle, decided to be taken back to the shelter as a strategic reserve.

Meanwhile, the vividly colored Arctic Red Spot Salmon, rich in fat, could be enjoyed immediately without descaling, making it an ideal and delicious meal.

From the pile of cleaned entrails, he used the knife tip to pick out the orange-red roe and a small piece of thick liver, invaluable sources of vitamins and fats in the extreme cold.