The Fitter Master in the Courtyard: Surrounded by Dead Men

With the help of his own comprehension, his understanding of this path deepened, and his application of it became more skillful.

"Thank you, Comrade Jing."

He said sincerely.

"Just one more step,"

Jing Hongfu replied, "A certain 'qi' is required for the Spirit Hook to be used."

After saying that, he reached out and gently pressed on Yang Ping's dantian, slowly transferring a wisp of energy into it.

This energy is stored within his body; each wisp of it he releases weakens it and may even harm him. He never gives it away easily.

The only exception is when facing Yang Ping.

Yang Ping felt a warm sensation surge in his lower abdomen, which instantly spread throughout his body. He felt inexhaustible energy, as if he could easily run dozens of miles of mountain road in one breath.

Following the method taught by Jing Hongfu, he focused his mind and observed inwards. Sure enough, he found a wisp of breath deep in his dantian. With a slight thought, the breath moved as if it were his own arm or fingers, flowing according to his will.

When he regained his composure and was about to thank the old man, he noticed that Jing Hongfu's face had aged considerably—he had looked no more than sixty years ago, but now the wrinkles around his eyes were deep, and his back was slightly hunched, making him look like an old man nearing seventy.

This influx of true energy clearly consumed a significant portion of his vital essence.

"Comrade Yang, please don't worry. I'll recover after a few days of rest and recuperation."

Jing Hongfu waved his hand, his voice remaining calm.

In truth, he knew that every bit of this wisp of innate energy he used was gone, and he had no cultivation method to replenish it.

This was said simply to reassure the young man before him.

"I've got it."

Yang Ping nodded solemnly.

He secretly resolved to exchange five years of lifespan from that mysterious system for a gift to Jing Hongfu's loyal servant as compensation.

Regardless of whether the old man can truly regain his Qi, this sentiment must not be neglected.

"It's getting late, I'll head back to rest now."

Jing Hongfu slowly got up, leaning on his cane.

"Take care."

Yang Ping stood there, watching the slightly unsteady figure walk further and further away until it disappeared into the twilight, before turning around and walking towards the shore where Yan Fugui was fishing.

"Do you recognize that old gentleman from earlier?"

Yan Fugui had just picked up a silvery, shimmering crucian carp when he looked up and saw him approaching. He casually asked a question.

He had noticed Yang Ping talking to the strange old man for a long time, but he was focused on his fishing rod and did not go up to disturb him.

"Just a casual chat that happened by chance."

The old man also taught me a fishing trick, saying that if I followed his method, I would catch fish every time, even more so than the legendary king of fish.

Yang Ping smiled and sat down on the bluestone next to him.

"Hey, what do you think?"

Yan Fugui slowly rebaited the fishhook, saying, "The old-fashioned method I taught you is still the most effective."

There's no such thing as a foolproof technique for catching fish 100% of the time. It's all just empty talk.

Yang Ping remained silent, sat back down by the water, and gazed at the shimmering waves.

Yan Fugui was anxious, hoping to catch one as soon as possible to prove that his method was indeed effective.

Yang Ping held his breath and focused his mind, and the method of spiritual hooking flowed naturally.

That memory, which didn't belong to him, had long since become a bodily instinct. With a slight thought, the hook tip underwater suddenly shot out like a living thing, precisely piercing the lips of a swimming fish.

The fish thrashed its tail in pain, splashing water everywhere. Yang Ping's wrist sank, and an invisible force spread down the fishing line, firmly binding the struggling fish to the hook. No matter how it twisted and turned, it couldn't break free.

This method of locking the fish with air was something he figured out on his own. There was no such method in the memories passed down by Jing Hongfu. He only taught people to patiently play the fish and reel it in when it was exhausted, following the rules and regulations. It was far less direct and efficient than Yang Ping's method.

"Splash—"

With a splash, a fish weighing four or five pounds was pulled out of the water, its scales shimmering silver in the sunlight.

When Yan Fugui saw such a large fish, he was initially delighted and almost blurted out his praise for his guidance. However, he then remembered that Yang Ping had used the old man's trick, and his smile froze on his face.

But then he remembered that Yang Ping had promised to give him a fish if he caught one, as compensation for borrowing the fishing rod, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl up.

"Impressive skill!"

He quickly stepped forward to offer his congratulations.

Yang Ping seemed not to hear, and cast his line into the water again.

Yan Fugui watched as five more fish were pulled out of the water in a short period of time. The smaller ones weighed five or six pounds, and the largest one had a thick back and probably weighed more than ten pounds.

Not far away, the "Fishing King" had been keeping a close eye on the commotion.

Deng Gang narrowed his eyes.

Seeing that Yang Ping had just gone to find Jing Hongfu and was now succeeding again, his face darkened, and he got up and walked straight towards Yang Ping.

"The secret is that sincerity will naturally work; if you're not sincere, the fish won't take the bait."

Yang Ping made up an explanation on the spot.

This method cannot be taught—it requires guiding that wisp of breath.

Without that energy, no one can use this "spiritual hook".

Kung Fu.

Qi cultivation is too taxing on Jing Hongfu's body; he would never agree to do this for someone else again.

"this……"

Yan Fugui remained hesitant.

"Why don't you give it a try? Maybe it'll work. That's how I caught mine."

Before Yang** finished speaking, a shadow had already loomed behind Yan Fugui.

Immediately afterwards, six burly men surrounded them. Each of them was big and strong, with an unfriendly expression, and they looked terrifying.

When Yan Fugui turned around and saw this scene, his face turned pale instantly.

He had a bad feeling: with his thin arms and legs, he was probably going to be thrown into the water to be fed to the fish today.

Yang Ping, however, remained calm, showing no sign of panic.

Not far away, dozens of figures dressed in black were hurrying towards this place, almost running.

"Did Master Jing pass on his fishing secrets to you?"

Fishing King Deng Gang stared at Yang Ping, his tone intimidating.

This was something he desperately wanted but could not obtain—no matter how many connections he sought or how many avenues he explored, Jing Hongfu consistently refused to pass on his true teachings.

"What's it to you?"

Yang** asked.

Deng Gang's face darkened: "I want to make a bet with you."

If I win, you'll have to teach me the method.

"On what grounds?"

As soon as Yang** finished speaking, the dozens of black-clad assassins silently surrounded Deng Gang and his six bodyguards, waiting for his command.

Deng Gang raised his hand and pointed behind him.

"It's all thanks to those six."

That being said, he himself knew perfectly well that the title of "King of Fishing" was still being worn by Jing Hongfu.

He absolutely had to get his hands on Old Master Jing's secret skills today to truly solidify his reputation.

"A lot of people?"

A sneer came from across the way, "Look around, is there anyone here who's alone?"

"We have quite a few people too!"

"that is!"

Before he finished speaking, a cacophony of responses arose behind Deng Gang.

He turned around abruptly and saw that seventy or eighty men had somehow formed a half-circle around him, their gazes like hooks, dark and menacing, as if they wanted to skin him alive.

Deng Gang's face instantly drained of all color.

The six burly men who were with him also froze.

They might be able to put up a fight in a one-on-one situation, but now they were facing ten or more opponents, and cold sweat immediately broke out on their foreheads and trickled down their temples.

"Now,"

The person who spoke first—Yang Ping—slowly replied, "Still think you have enough confidence?"

Deng Gang's lips were pressed into a pale line.

But he refused to back down.

He had been longing for the title of "King of Fishing" for a long time, otherwise he wouldn't have spent every day at Houhai, honing his skills in the wind and rain.

"One thousand yuan."

He squeezed out the words through gritted teeth, "Besides the bicycle ticket, I can also produce other tickets."

"As long as you're willing to bet with me this round."

He firmly believed in his years of accumulated experience.

Even if Yang Pinggang had just acquired some mysterious method, he was still a novice.

He is 70% confident of winning.

"Take it out and let us see."

Yang Ping's eyebrows twitched slightly.

There's no reason not to accept money that's given away for free.

Anyway, Deng Gang won all these prizes from other people.

"OK!"

A hint of joy flashed across Deng Gang's eyes. Without hesitation, he grabbed his cloth bag, pulled out a stack of dark green ten-yuan bills, and then grabbed a handful of colorful tickets and certificates, spreading them all out on the ground in front of him.

"I only have this much in my pocket. If it's not enough, I'll go back and get more."

He said.

"That's enough."

Yang Ping replied.

He didn't want to wait here any longer, and besides, he was already satisfied with winning this amount; wanting more would only make him feel guilty.

"Alright, let's have a one-hour competition and see who catches the most fish in total."

Deng Gang decisively set the rules.

"It won't take that long, half an hour is enough."

Yang Ping felt that it was taking too long, and if they caught too many fish, they wouldn't be able to finish eating them.

"become!"

Deng Gang readily agreed.

He gave his bodyguard a wink, signaling him to fetch the fishing gear—he had rushed to find Yang Ping earlier and hadn't brought any equipment with him.

Yang Ping didn't say anything more, and just waited quietly on the small stool.

Yan Fugui, who was standing to the side, didn't even dare to breathe loudly.

He never expected that Yang Ping would have so many acquaintances here. He felt a wave of fear, but also secretly rejoiced that Yang Ping was there today, otherwise he probably would have had a hard time getting out of this mess.

But the pile of chips made his eyes water; he couldn't take his eyes off them.

Not long after.

Deng Gang's fishing gear was then delivered.

The equipment was very complete, with landing nets and fish baskets, practically armed to the teeth. All of them were imported from foreign brands, which must have cost a lot of money.

Deng Gang took out a watch, deliberately set the hands to the hour, and said:

It's exactly ten o'clock now.

We'll stop fishing at 10:30 and weigh our rods to determine the winner.

"OK."

Yang Ping nodded.

Since I'm the winner anyway, I can compete however I want.

"Let's begin!"

Deng Gang handed the watch to the person behind him and quickly walked to the spot he had chosen, about ten meters away from Yang Ping—so as not to get too close and have Yang Ping disrupt his performance.

He poured all the corn into the water, then cast his fishing hook and waited intently for the float to move.

With only half an hour left, not a single second could be wasted.

Yang Ping, on the other hand, did not hesitate for a moment.

With a flick of his finger, the earthworm was hooked. With a slight flick of his wrist, the fishing line drew a silver arc and disappeared into the water, while he secretly activated his unique "spirit hook technique".

Famen.

In less than twenty breaths, a swimming fish was caught in the trap.

With a slight thought, his aura enveloped the fish, hook, and rod tip, forming a seamless whole—in this situation, getting off the hook was no longer a concern.

"Whoosh—"

Water splashed up, and a gray carp weighing more than ten kilograms burst out of the water and crashed heavily onto the earthen embankment, its tail fin slapping so hard that mud flew everywhere.

With a flick of her wrist, Yang Ping deftly released the fishhook from the fish's lip, and it silently sank back into the deep water.

From casting the hook to reeling in the fish, the entire process takes no more than thirty seconds.

Yan Fugui, who was watching from the sidelines, stared wide-eyed.

Previously, Yang Ping had caught six fish in a row in just over ten minutes, which had already impressed him. Little did he expect that this person would have such a lightning-fast skill.

Deng Gang was also stunned and stood there.

Before he could react, Yang Ping's fishing rod bent again—

Another grass carp, weighing seven or eight pounds, was lifted into the air, its scales flashing a bright arc in the sunlight.

It detached from the hook, entered the water, and the movement was so smooth that there was not a moment of hesitation.

Immediately afterwards, the fishing line tightened one after another.

In just three minutes, water splashed up one after another, and three more fish were pulled up.

Including the previous two, there are exactly five.

Deng Gang and Yan Fugui, who were on the shore, were stunned.

They seemed rooted to the spot, their eyes wide open, as if they had witnessed something that should not exist in the human world.

This isn't fishing. It's more like fish in the water lining up, vying to bite that invisible hook.