The Fish I Catch Can Level Up-Chapter 44: Iso Fishing: Targeting Black Bream

"Heh, eight thousand?" Chu Mingcheng scoffed. He pulled out his phone and found the picture of the giant soft-shelled turtle he'd caught. "Take a look. What do you guys think this is worth?"
"Holy shit!" x2!!!
Both Zhang Wei and Chen Yang swore in unison when they saw the photo. You couldn't blame them for losing their composure; a turtle that massive was an incredibly rare sight.
"Did you sell this thing?"
"Ah Cheng, where did you catch it? Are there more? Take me with you tomorrow night!"
The second question, naturally, came from Zhang Wei. For a hardcore angler, the appeal of a catch like that was nearly as strong as a giant grouper.
"You think old turtles like this are just lying around everywhere?" Chu Mingcheng rolled his eyes. "If you want to try your luck, go buy some pig liver and fish at the reservoir tomorrow night. Who knows, you might get lucky." He then turned to Chen Yang. "I sold it. For exactly eight thousand."
Chen Yang looked regretful. "Ah, what a pity. Next time you get a rare catch, let me know first. I have a big family, and we love eating exotic stuff."
"Deal. Next time I land something good, I'll send you a picture first. If you want it, it's yours. If not, I'll offer it to someone else," Chu Mingcheng readily agreed. Chen Yang wasn't short on money and would always offer a fair price. Plus, they were friends of many years, so he was happy to sell to him.
The three of them chatted for a while longer until it was ten o'clock. They then drove off for their late-night meal. Chu Mingcheng brought four of the mackerel with him, giving two to each of his friends and telling them to drive home first to put the fish in their freezers.
The place they went to wasn't far, just an old, well-established food stall in town. They had some stir-fried dishes and a few drinks. Afterward, Chu Mingcheng called for a designated driver to take him back to Yanmen Island, while his two friends, who lived nearby, walked home.
Once he was back, Chu Mingcheng suddenly remembered the burnt apple snails in his front yard. He went out to find that the embers had completely cooled. Grabbing a shovel from the storage room, he crushed the charred snail shells into smaller pieces and then shoveled the ash into a pile under his mango tree.
With that done, he yawned, went inside, washed up, and went to bed.
Thanks to the drinks last night, Chu Mingcheng slept in until after nine the next morning, missing his morning run. It was just one time, so it wasn't a big deal. He got up, relieved himself of last night's beer, brushed his teeth, and went to the kitchen to boil a kettle of water.
This was the classic aftereffect of a late night of beer and food. No headache, just an intense thirst upon waking up.
He poured some kibble for Mimi but held off on the canned food; he'd be giving her fresh fish later.
He went upstairs to check on the mackerel that had been drying overnight. They were just about perfect—still a little soft, which was exactly how he liked them. He took them all down, packed them in bags, and put them in the fridge for storage. He then grabbed one of the frozen mackerel from the freezer. It was getting late, so he might as well start preparing lunch.
He put some rice on to cook and then started processing the fish. He filleted the meat and set it on a plate, planning to steam it in the pot once the rice was nearly done. The fish head and bones went back into the freezer. Once he had enough, he could cook them all in a pressure cooker until they were soft, then dry them, grind them into a powder, and feed it to the cat.
Lately, Chu Mingcheng had been reading up on cat care. While a Chinese Li Hua cat could handle raw fish and mice—it was fundamentally different from a purebred pet and not nearly as delicate—he still had to be mindful of parasites. Now that he was keeping it as a house cat and petting it often, being responsible was as much for his own sake as the cat's. Of course, feeding it a fish or two occasionally was perfectly fine.
The large mackerel yielded a good amount of meat. He set aside half of it, unseasoned, and let it cool a bit before giving it to Mimi. Seeing her gobble it up with gusto, making little smacking sounds, Chu Mingcheng couldn't help but smile and film it again.
He had three videos now. Maybe when he had time, he'd look into getting a head-mounted camera and start recording his fishing trips.
For his own portion, he added a bit of seafood soy sauce and drizzled it with hot oil. He placed a piece of the fish in his mouth, and his eyebrows shot up. It was incredibly fragrant and surprisingly delicious, with a rich, oily texture.
The fattier the fish, the better it tastes, but he never expected such a cheap mackerel to be this good. The meat was tender and smooth, without the slightest hint of a fishy smell.
Typically, fish like mackerel and saury are grilled, especially in Japanese cuisine. The meal Jiang Luoluo had treated him to included a grilled mackerel dish, but the meat had been rather dry and lean, making it taste just average. It must have been wild-caught.
People often say that farmed mackerel and horse mackerel are tastier than wild ones because the farmed variety has a higher fat content, which also makes them several times more expensive. But the fish he was eating now was easily on par with any farmed version. Chu Mingcheng decided he had to buy a small grill that afternoon. It would be a crime not to barbecue mackerel this fat.
The Qinghuayu 【TN: "Blue-and-white fish," the Chinese name for mackerel】 served in Japanese restaurants is just mackerel, also known as the white-bellied mackerel. In Japan, the white-bellied variety is considered the "true" mackerel. This type prefers cold water and is mostly caught in more northern regions. The ones Chu Mingcheng had caught were Australian mackerel, which prefer warm water and are more common in the south.
After lunch, Chu Mingcheng took two of the three remaining mackerel and went to give them to his parents to try.
"Mom, I caught a few mackerel at the pier yesterday. This one is really fat and tastes great. You can just steam it whole."
An Xiuwen accepted the fish with a happy smile. "Ever since you quit your job, I haven't even had to buy my own groceries."
"Haha, well, I'm saving you money, isn't that great?"
"Yes, yes, it is. Remember to bring more home in the future. Come on in, why are you just standing outside?"
"I can't. I'm going fishing this afternoon, and Wei is joining me tonight."
"Wei is coming with you? Your dad said the soft-shelled turtle is ready to be cooked. Why don't you invite Wei and Ah Yang over for dinner tonight? It's been a while since those two came over to visit."
When they were kids, the three boys often ate at each other's houses, and their parents were all very familiar with one another. That's why An Xiuwen suggested it as soon as she heard Zhang Wei would be with her son. In fact, Zhang Wei and Chen Yang loved eating at his house the most because Old Chu was an excellent cook.
"Alright, I'll tell them to come over for dinner tonight."
"Good. I'll go buy a chicken, and your dad can make his special 'Farewell My Concubine'." 【TN: Bàwáng Bié Jī (霸王别姬), A famous Chinese dish featuring turtle and chicken soup, named after the Beijing opera】
Chu Mingcheng left his parents' house, bought a small charcoal grill to put in his car, and then drove back to Yanmen Island and headed for the other side. Fewer people went there, and the local fishermen didn't cast their nets in that area, so the fish population might be better.
He'd had his new iso rod 【TN: A specialized fishing rod for rock fishing, named after磯釣り (iso-tsuri), Japanese-style coastal rock fishing】 for several days but hadn't used it much. Today, Chu Mingcheng planned to find a cliff to do some rock fishing. To that end, he made a special trip to the tackle shop to buy a retractable landing net designed for iso fishing on coastal reefs, not forgetting a brick of frozen shrimp for chum.
He didn't need to buy bait. Even if the marine resources were depleted, there would still be shellfish and sea snails around.
He parked the car, slung his rod bag over his shoulder, and carried two fishing boxes, one large and one small, as he searched the coast for a suitable fishing spot. The small box held his tools, like lines and hooks, and also served as a stool. The large box was filled with ice he had frozen yesterday, ready to store his catch.
Soon, he found a perfect spot. He took out the brick of shrimp to let it thaw on its own and then set about testing the water's depth. As a novice, Chu Mingcheng couldn't judge the depth by the water's color, so he had to use his rod. The test showed it was about seven or eight meters deep—an excellent spot.
Next, he took out his knife, intending to scrape off some small oysters for bait. But as soon as he climbed over one reef, he saw the rock face below was densely covered with mussels. They weren't large, but they were perfect for bait.
He went back to his fishing box and pulled out a plastic bag. It was one of the bags he'd originally used to sell the black fish. He had intentionally stored a few in his small box, and he hadn't expected to have a use for them again so soon.