Fish is not more expensive than rice. Even in chaotic times, it only increases by a few cents. Yesterday, when Chen Mo made a big purchase, he specifically inquired about it. Crucian carp is only eight cents a pound. It’s not expensive because fish isn’t popular among the poor and it wastes oil. Moreover, the cooking methods of ordinary households are simple, making it especially fishy to eat. Now, in this year of disaster, those with extra money will buy grain instead of fish. Except for a few special types, like carp, Dadong silverfish, and bass, all are less than ten cents a pound. Qingfish is seven cents a pound. On average, counting at seven cents per pound, sixteen pounds should be more than sixty cents. Chen Mo was a bit suspicious that Zhang River was trying to hoodwink him. Zhang River immediately explained, "Brother Mo, you might not know, selling fish to the Qinghe Gang, the price is almost cut in half, plus some tribute money to the guards at Dadong Lake, after everything is deducted, it’s only sixty cents." Zhang River didn’t dare to keep it private and gave all the sixty cents he got to Chen Mo. "Tribute money? Collecting so many miscellaneous taxes, and there’s still tribute money..." After hearing that, Chen Mo found it absurd. He originally thought the Qinghe Gang was greedy enough and reached its limits, but there’s still tribute money to be collected. Zhang River, noticing Brother Mo’s shocked expression, continued, "Brother Mo, I heard people say, the Qinghe Gang has already monopolized the aquatic business in Pingting County. If you take it back to eat yourself, fine, but if you want to sell it in the city, the Qinghe Gang collects it again, and then they only collect at the dead fish price, barely one cent a pound if you’re lucky..." "So, it seems this caught fish cargo can only be sold to Qinghe Gang." The Qinghe Gang redefined Chen Mo’s perception of them. Most who go fishing at Dadong Lake are poor people. And fish isn’t popular among them. Even if they aren’t afraid of wasting oil, they will only take one or two back home for freshness. Storing many fish is not only troublesome but also wasteful in terms of salt. Therefore, they can only sell to the Qinghe Gang in exchange for money to buy the grain they need. Which means all who go fishing at Dadong Lake are essentially working for the Qinghe Gang. If they’re unlucky, the caught fish cargo might not exchange for the previously paid ten cents tax money. Not only do they lose money, but they are also working for nothing. The Qinghe Gang plays this game excellently. "In a couple of days, join me at Dadong Lake." Chen Mo patted Zhang River’s shoulder, then returned fifty cents to him: "This is what you deserve." Luckily, Chen Mo takes back the fish to eat himself. Under fifty kilograms, only ten cents tax is paid, which means a little less exploitation by the Qinghe Gang. After Chen Mo paid the remaining four taels of silver, he took back the Tang blade and immediately checked his attribute panel. [Cultivation Technique: Blood Nourishing Technique (Small Success 283.2/500).] [Realm: Refining Skin (Ninth Grade).] [Skills: Demon-breaking Saber Technique (Intermediate 77300/200000).] The power with the kitchen knife is 38+31. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⟡𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕥⟡𝕟𝕖𝕥 Now holding the Tang blade, the added power increased by one point. The grip feel is also better than holding the kitchen knife. Chen Mo tucked the dagger into his waistband, wrapped the Tang blade in black cloth, tied it with several fishing rods, outsiders couldn’t tell Chen Mo was carrying a blade. The two headed together to Dadong Lake. Today it’s sleeting, but the cold wind was fierce. Zhang River walked ahead with the fishing rods, carrying a bucket of bait in his hand; inside was a mix of worms, bear innards, and rice bran for baiting, while Chen Mo followed behind, with a layer of white frost upon his head, like a little old man. After being whipped, Chen Mo didn’t like others walking behind him. Soon, the two arrived at Dadong Lake. Dadong Lake, with its vast waves stretching for hundreds of miles. But now the entire lake surface is frozen. Being a South native, though Chen Mo often saw pictures of the Songhua River frozen online, he had never witnessed it, and now seeing the enormous Dadong Lake sealed in ice, he was truly awed. Scattered across the ice were quite a few people. Although Qinghe Gang exploits heavily, if you can catch a dozen pounds of fish daily, you can still make some money. At the entrance, a wooden canopy was set up, with a group of people gathered before it, sounds of wailing emitting. Chen Mo and his companion approached to see an old man in linen clothes lying in the center, being punched and kicked by several Qinghe Gang members, covered in footprints. The old man was frail, and after a severe beating, he soon perished. The onlookers retreated two steps in fear. A voice came from the canopy: "Everyone listen up. From now on, anyone who dares not to pay taxes and sneaks into Dadong Lake to fish will end up ." Dadong Lake covers a huge area; there are always places the Qinghe Gang can’t monitor, hence everyday some people who can’t afford the fishing tax sneak in to drill and fish, of course some succeed in catching fish, but more are spotted and then beaten to death. "Wasn’t Uncle Da Lin beaten to death in the same way back then?" Chen Mo glanced at the breathless old man on the ground, raised his eyebrows, and turned his gaze toward the canopy. A brazier burned in the canopy, beside which sat a burly man with his chest bare, tattooed with a fierce downhill tiger, with a somewhat attractive woman on his lap performing seductive gestures to massage the man’s shoulders. A red number 33 was tattooed on the burly man’s forehead. "Brother Hu, this is the fishing tax for me and Brother Mo." Zhang River pointed to Chen Mo, then stepped forward and put twenty cents on the table in front of the burly man. The burly man, being called Brother Hu by Zhang River, ignored him; an underling beside him checked the amount, then collected it into the money box beside Brother Hu. Then the underling picked up the iron rod from beside the canopy and gave Zhang River and Chen Mo a once-over, "Follow me." Just as Chen Mo and Zhang River left the canopy, Brother Hu’s voice rang out, "What are you staring at? Does anyone claim this old man’s corpse? If not, find an ice hole and throw him in to feed the fish." The ice holes for fishing are cut by Qinghe Gang, not out of goodwill, mainly to prevent people from randomly damaging the ice surface. Plus, one tax payment is for one hole. If you want extra ice holes, you have to pay more, two cents for one hole. You’re not even allowed to cut them yourself; only members of Qinghe Gang can cut them. He handed over another four cents for two extra ice holes. After the Qinghe Gang’s men left, Zhang River hurriedly explained, "Brother Mo, I didn’t know they charged for extra ice holes, I didn’t hear anyone say this yesterday." "This has nothing to do with you." Who would have thought the Qinghe Gang would charge money this way. Whether or not first-timers get beginner rewards, Chen Mo without baiting, dropped two rods and within less than fifteen minutes caught three fish, each weighing over two pounds. ps: I’m amazed, after posting two Tang blade Easter egg photos, they still won’t display fully. Asking for reads and monthly passes!!!