My Manor

Just as Jiang Hai was sighing about the abundance of birds around him, thinking that if he caught some and fried them, they'd probably taste delicious, the team, which had been moving at a steady pace, suddenly slowed down. Confused, Jiang Hai glanced around, and Paul, who was beside him, gestured for him to lower his body. He whispered, "There's something ahead. Follow me, but try to remain silent and don't speak for now."

Jiang Hai and Fu Yuan exchanged glances, then quietly followed the group.

As they neared a forest, what had originally been an unremarkable sea of trees suddenly cleared up in front of Jiang Hai's eyes.

A long mountain stream appeared, the snowmelt from early spring flowing rapidly down its narrow path. While the stream wasn't very wide—its widest point barely a meter or two across—the water was turbulent. The snow from the mountain slopes, warmed by the sun, had melted quickly, feeding the rushing current.

The water flowed continuously, and at times, fish would leap from the stream, breaking the surface. Unlike the major rivers that had been overtaken by invasive Asian carp, most of the fish in the mountain streams were native to North America. Jiang Hai couldn't recognize many of them—unlike the river near Winthrop, which was home to common market fish.

But Jiang Hai had no time to appreciate the fish. His eyes, following the lead of the group, were focused on the far side of the stream.

There, a small herd of deer was drinking from the water. As they drank, some deer stood alert, keeping watch for any danger.

Although hunting deer wasn't common in the United States, the situation was different in neighboring Canada. There, with vast stretches of wilderness and towns so small that some only had dozens of inhabitants, deer were hardly ever threatened. The animals lived a peaceful life, undisturbed by hunters. The deer in Canada weren't afraid of humans at all.

In contrast, the United States, with its 300 million people, had more gun enthusiasts who ventured into the mountains to hunt. As a result, while the deer population was large and sometimes problematic, they were far more wary of people.

"Hey, deer. Should we hunt one?" Jiang Hai's eyes lit up at the sight of the herd. He nudged Paul with his elbow, excited. He had never hunted such a creature before.

"Forget it, these deer are too small. The biggest one is only about two years old and hasn't fully grown. It's not worth killing for just the meat," Paul replied after a moment's consideration, shaking his head.

"Then what's the point of hunting them?" Jiang Hai asked, puzzled.

"Deer antlers," Paul answered, and then signaled to everyone not to shoot. Since there was no need for action, everyone stood up. The deer, sensing the movement, panicked and scattered in all directions, clearly aware that these humans were no easy threat.

"Deer antlers?" Jiang Hai was taken aback. He had been in the U.S. for a while but was surprised to hear this. Back home in China, deer antlers were highly valued for traditional medicine, but in the U.S., people didn't seem to care about such things. He hadn't seen any Chinese medicine shops around.

"Boss, people collect deer antlers here," Bell chimed in with a grin. "You see it in the movies—many people like to hang a deer's head on the wall as a trophy. The number of antler tines represents the deer's age and strength."

Jiang Hai's eyes widened with realization. That made sense. He'd seen similar trophies in films before.

"Alright, it's noon now. Let's take a break and cook something," Paul said as he walked to the side of the stream. He surveyed the clear water and the open space around it, clapping his hands to get everyone's attention. "Let's have lunch here before we move on."

At Paul's signal, the group began to set up. Clearly experienced, they worked with efficiency: some gathered firewood, others cleared the area for cooking, and a few stacked stones to form a cooking stove. Jiang Hai, unfamiliar with the process, couldn't contribute much, but he wasn't the only one. A few people took charge of preparing the ingredients.

"Those who live by the mountains eat from the mountains, and those who live by the water eat from the water," someone remarked. Since they hadn't yet ventured deep enough into the wilderness to hunt game, fish would be their lunch.

Three of the group members headed to the stream, setting up their fishing rods, lines, and hooks, ready to fish.

Jiang Hai, while not skilled at much else, was confident when it came to fishing, especially for river fish.

"Let me help!" he said, dropping his backpack and walking over to one of the men who had just set up. This man had spoken to Jiang Hai a few times and was somewhat familiar to him, though Jiang Hai had mostly communicated with Will and Paul.

"Really? You can fish?" the man asked skeptically, clearly not believing that Jiang Hai, who looked thin, was capable of fishing.

"Of course! I'm practically a fishing expert back home. Just give me a line and some hooks," Jiang Hai said, grinning. The man chuckled, handing over a roll of fishing line and a set of hooks. Jiang Hai didn't hesitate to take them, knowing that these were inexpensive tools, easily replaced.

With a wave of his hand, Jiang Hai led Fu Yuan and Bell upstream for a short distance. He'd been observing the stream's flow and eventually chose a spot where the water was calm and slightly muddy.

There's a saying: "Clear water has no fish." While not entirely accurate, it holds some truth. Fish tend to avoid areas with clear, still water, especially the larger ones.

Jiang Hai knew from his winter fishing experience that fish were more likely to be found in slightly murky water.

After preparing the fishing hook, he tried casting, despite not having a rod. Fortunately, the stream was narrow, so Jiang Hai had no trouble managing without it.

He took out a piece of beef from his bag, which he had brought along in case of hunger. He cut it into several pieces and tossed them into the stream.

It didn't take long for bubbles to form where the beef landed in the water, and Jiang Hai grinned. He tossed in more beef, this time with a hook attached to one piece. Within ten seconds, the water below him shimmered, and his fishing line tightened.

For most people, the tightening of the line might have been too much, but Jiang Hai was no ordinary man. With strength that exceeded human limits, he effortlessly pulled a large silver fish, about 40 centimeters long, out of the water.

"Wow, that was fast!" the others, who had been watching from a distance, exclaimed in surprise. The man who had lent Jiang Hai the fishing line rushed over to inspect the catch.

"This is a red trout—a very good fish. I didn't think you could really catch it like that. You're good!" the man said excitedly, slapping Jiang Hai on the back.

The red trout, also known as lake trout, is a common freshwater fish found along the coasts of America and Europe. It can grow up to 70 centimeters long and weigh as much as 4 kilograms. These fish are migratory, moving into the sea during the summer, but remain in freshwater before they reach maturity.

Although the fish Jiang Hai caught wasn't fully grown, it was still sizable enough to eat.

"Ha, just good luck!" Jiang Hai laughed in response. Fu Yuan, ever eager to capture the moment, hurried over to take pictures.

This group of 16 people would certainly need more fish to feed everyone, so Jiang Hai picked another spot and began cutting more beef, ready to fish again.