Chapter 5.11 (Extra)

I squatted down beside the old man and watched him kneel piously in front of the pool. I narrowed my eyes and asked him, “Who are you worshiping?”

“Do you know how many people have died in such a pool since ancient times?” The old man closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, they seemed very murky. “Deep pools are spiritual. It’s never wrong to pay homage to them.”

I looked at his bitter smile. I used to believe such things, but now I knew that it was just a pool of water. Respecting or belittling it wouldn’t change anything.

“Do you and those dead fishermen really just have an ordinary relationship? Aren’t you strangers?” I took his other incense sticks and lit three of them as well.

The old man sighed and started putting his fishing rod together, connecting each piece one by one. “You smart people always have to figure everything out.”

I recognized this expression. It was the same one Uncle Three often had when there was something he didn’t think I needed to know.

I wasn’t angry anymore. After all, most of those who had experienced things probably had this kind of character. Even I sometimes understood this feeling, since too many things said would only bring about more questions that I didn’t want to answer. But at the same time, I had also learned how to pry open these kinds of people’s mouths.

I pointed to Poker-Face, “Look at this guy.”

The old man glanced at him as he continued to assemble the fishing rod. He threaded the fishing line through the guides on the pole and then picked out a bomb hook that had smaller curved hooks the size of a little finger. Once that was done, he wrapped the dragon coffin fungus bait mixture around the hook, filling the air with an awful stench. “He’s the most skilled one here.”

“Do you think you can see through him?” I asked.

The old man smiled, “All humans are the same. Why would I need to see through him?”

“I’ve known him for many years,” I said. “But he doesn’t let me see through anything. He always does things that look simple, but actually have a very complicated purpose. I want to help him, but I don’t even know what he wants to do.” I took a puff of my cigarette, “That’s because he thinks that he’s the only one who can do these things and others can’t.”

The old man didn’t speak as he continued working, so I continued, “People who don’t like to explain things clearly are just like this. Most people in this state have seen through life and death, fame and fortune, and other things. They feel that no one in the world understands them, but there’s one thing that they haven’t seen clearly.”

The old man stopped and looked at me. “And what is that?”

“This state is nothing remarkable. There are actually a lot of people like this in the world.” I said as I looked into his eyes. “It’s ok not to tell me, but don’t lie to me. Lie once, and I’ll know right away. No matter how far we’ve gone, I’ll pull the plug on this.”

The old man bowed his head, and I couldn’t see his expression. It was hard for people not to lie. No one could live in the shadow of always telling the truth, after all.

I was sure that he would eventually tell me what he was keeping in his heart, so I turned and retreated a few steps.

The old man took off his shoes, rolled up his pants, and stepped into the deep pool. I could see that his calves were full of scars caused by frostbite. He walked towards the rock until the water reached his thighs, but didn’t go any further. The rocky bottom became so steep in that area that people wouldn’t be able to stand up.

Lei Benchang pulled the fishing rod back, released the flywheel, swung sideways towards the innermost part of the pool, and threw the hook in like he was cracking a whip. He had swung the rod with such ease that a layman would never understand it. It only took me a single glance to understand how much skill was needed for this casting technique.

The hook swung out horizontally across the water’s surface and flew in, landing accurately at the pool’s mouth before sinking.

Even in the eyes of fishermen, that kind of easy throw was already a stunt. Lei Benchang was holding onto a fishing line that had about forty kilograms of tension and was two hundred meters long. Even the flywheel looked to be at least twice as big as an ordinary one. The fishing line continued dispensing, making it obvious that the hook was still sinking. At least half of the line had gone into the water, but the wheel didn’t stop moving.

Lei Benchang retreated to the edge of the pool and connected the end of the flywheel’s line to a roller that was about the size of a basketball. The roller was full of fishing line that had to be at least several kilometers long. The line on the fishing rod soon ran out, and then the fishing line on the roller began to dispense.

I realized that the old man fishing here for so many years definitely didn’t count as a long time if it might take half a day to put a fucking hook on. And even casting the line once might take at least a few days, which meant it might take a whole day to pull the hook back up.

I didn’t know how many reels of fishing line were used before it finally stopped moving, indicating that the line had penetrated deep into the heart of the mountain.

“Why don’t you use more hooks? I’ve watched people fish in the sea before and they usually put a lot of hooks on the line. They make it a few kilometers long so they can catch giant oarfish.” Fatty said as the old man took the flywheel off the fishing rod.

I knew that the rod was only a means to throw the hook in since a pulley system was needed to pull the fish up. The old man found a big rock and pressed it on the huge roller before saying to Fatty, “Too many hooks makes it easy to get caught on the rocks. If that happens, the only way is to cut the line.”

He sat on a rock by the shore, unscrewed his thermos, and started to drink tea as his eyes remained fixed on the spot where the line had been dropped into the water. It was almost like he had entered a meditative state.

Fatty shrugged and we returned to where Poker-Face was. I was a little frustrated that the old man wasn’t afraid of me and said to the two of them, “Be careful with that Lei Benchang.”

Poker-Face carefully observed a spot high up on the rock, but he wasn’t as active as before. It appeared there weren’t any clues here. I also helped him look for a stone quarry, but my mind was on the deep pool of water, where a fishing line with cold, smelly bait was fluctuating on the dark water’s surface.

This was all happening just a few hundred meters below my feet. It was like a slender hand groping aimlessly for my own hand.

Does that fish really exist? I thought to myself. Does it know we exist?

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