Chapter 342: Chapter 237: Life Should Have a Sense of Ritual, Don’t Be Anxious, Don’t Pull Your Hair
The young men howled and shivered from the cold. They scrambled ashore, rubbing their hands together and pulling on their clothes. It was just too cold.
It was actually relatively warmer in the water. But the moment they got out, the cold wind felt like it was piercing their bones.
Only Li Xiang and Lei Jiaming were unafraid of the cold, leaving everyone to marvel in amazement.
A few of the young men were quite courageous, especially one scrawny fellow. He might have been thin, but he was a fighter who gave it his all. Li Xiang took note of this, deciding to find the right time to grant him a fortuitous opportunity.
This scrawny fellow was also from Lei Family Gully. His name was Lei Xiaonan, and he seemed to be one of Lei Xiaohui’s cousins.
It couldn’t be helped. Lei Family Gully had a large and thriving population, and many of the young people had not left to find work elsewhere. Consequently, most of Li Xiang’s security guards had been brought over by Lei Jiaming.
A few people from Li Family Village eventually returned and joined the security team, but since not much time had passed, it seemed they hadn’t fully integrated into the group yet.
Once dressed, everyone loaded the fish of all sizes into baskets, placed them on the sleds, and added water to keep them alive. Some fish were too big for the baskets, so they were either carried in people’s arms or hauled by two or three men together.
These wild fish had incredible vitality. Even out of the water, they continued to flop and struggle. They were impossibly slippery, and sometimes it was more than one person could handle.
By the time they reached the entrance to Li Family Village, Er Huang, Little Fox, and some of the village dogs and cats had caught the scent and came over to greet them.
"WOOF WOOF~" "MEOW MEOW~"
With so many dogs and cats yapping and meowing as they followed the procession, many villagers came out to see the commotion.
Lei Jiaming joked that if it wasn’t so cold, they ought to parade around the village a few times.
Everyone laughed. This haul was a big one; there were no small fries in the lot.
When they arrived at Li Xiang’s house, he took charge of dividing the fish among everyone.
They didn’t bother with a scale. He just eyeballed it, and everyone grabbed a few fish to take home. Everyone had put in the effort, so there was no need to be petty.
Li Xiang made a rough estimate: they definitely had fifteen or sixteen hundred pounds. Since all the fish were large, this amounted to only fifty-one of them, plus three soft-shelled turtles and two regular turtles. Including himself, Yao Yao, Zhao Xueqing, and Lei Xiaohui, there were thirteen people in total.
Li Xiang gave each person about a hundred pounds, which worked out to three or four fish of assorted sizes—three of the larger ones, or four of the smaller ones.
In the end, nine large fish—weighing around three hundred pounds in total—and all the turtles, both soft-shelled and regular, were left for Li Xiang.
No one else had any objections. After all, Li Xiang had been the main force behind the catch; he’d caught more than half of them himself while they had mostly just assisted. Some even felt a little embarrassed, feeling they hadn’t pulled their weight yet were receiving so many fish.
Of the remaining nine fish, Li Xiang chose a snakehead, a black carp, and a bighead carp—totaling about a hundred pounds—and added a large soft-shelled turtle and a large regular turtle to the lot, sending them all over to Jiang Jianguo’s home.
Then he sent one fish to the old village chief, Li Jinyu, and another to Li Yucheng, with whom he was on good terms. His maternal grandparents received two fish, a soft-shelled turtle, and a regular turtle. That left two fish and one large soft-shelled turtle for his own home.
Li Xiang’s system warehouse was packed with saltwater fish; he could always go catch more if he needed to.
The two remaining fish were a bighead carp, also known as a "fat-head fish," which weighed a good forty-plus pounds, and a grass carp of around fifty pounds.
That evening, Li Xiang butchered the bighead carp, hacking off its massive head and a few choice cuts of belly meat to stew a large iron pot of fish head tofu soup.
The head of a fat-head fish is naturally the most delicious part, especially a wild one that grew up in a drinking-water reservoir. The flesh was exceptionally tender and savory, without an overpowering fishy smell.
The preparation was quite simple. He removed the gills, chopped the head in half, and washed it clean. Then, he heated cold oil in a wok and pan-fried the head until both sides were lightly golden. Leaving the head in the wok, he poured in hot water, added ginger slices and cooking wine, and brought it to a boil over high heat.
He cooked it for about half an hour until the broth became rich and milky-white. Then he added tofu, salt, and white pepper powder. He transferred it to a small stainless steel hot pot, sprinkled some cilantro on top, and placed it on a small red-clay stove over a low charcoal fire to simmer slowly, letting the essence of the fish head completely infuse the soup.
Eating it while it simmered ensured it wouldn’t get cold on such a snowy day.
The fish head was so big that it didn’t fit in one small hot pot, so Li Xiang divided it into two. The leftover fish and broth he simply ladled out for the kittens.
The milky-white broth was savory yet light, and the meat was smooth and delicious. It was a wonderfully warming meal, absolutely scrumptious—so good, it would make your grandma proud.
Still, it was just him and his grandmother, so the atmosphere felt a bit subdued. ’It would probably be even nicer,’ Li Xiang thought, ’to eat with a big family, surrounded by laughter and lively conversation.’
Although the bighead carp weighed over forty pounds, they really only ate the head. The body wasn’t as tasty and was full of bones, so it all went to the kittens.
Li Xiang’s cats lived in absolute bliss. With all the saltwater fish, Spicy Strips, and freshwater fish, they had more than they could possibly eat.
As for the fifty-plus-pound grass carp, he salted it to be cured and then air-dried into preserved fish.
As for the large soft-shelled turtle, he kept it in clean water, waiting for Jiang Cai’Er to return in a few days so they could stew and eat it together.
When the video of the polar plunge and ice fishing was finally released, the effect was fantastic.
Although fishing and swimming were forbidden at the reservoir, the video didn’t reveal the specific location. Someone would have to be a local and intimately familiar with the area to recognize it.
Fans were astonished. ’Holy crap! On such a cold day, with snow almost up to your knees, ice twenty centimeters thick, and that demonic wind that feels like a bone-scraping knife, how did Brother Xiang have the guts to jump in and swim?’ they wondered. ’And what’s more, his skin has a healthy, rosy glow—he doesn’t look the least bit cold!’
And he caught so many fish, too. It was enough to make anyone’s mouth water.
A few shots showed Li Xiang emerging from the water while holding a massive fish. The fish, tossed onto the ice, thrashed about energetically. You just couldn’t fake that.
Not only were there drone shots from the air, but later, Lei Xiaohui even had her brother, Lei Jiaming, seal a phone in a waterproof bag and go underwater to get a few close-up shots of Li Xiang chasing and catching fish. It couldn’t have been more authentic.
The video, naturally, went viral, racking up tons of comments and likes from fans.
Luo Feifei, scrolling through Li Xiang’s social media account during a break from work, naturally saw the video as well. She pouted slightly. ’Hmph. He went fishing and didn’t invite me.’
Then again, she was currently filming a variety show, so she probably wouldn’t have had time even if Li Xiang had asked. ’Unless it was something really important,’ she mused, ’like an alien Exotic Beast invasion, and we all had to go hunt it to protect humanity.’
’If I’d been involved, we could’ve caught even more,’ she thought.
As for why Li Xiang still bothered with social media, there were a few reasons. First, his account was already popular; it would be a waste not to leverage it. Creating content was an easy way to make good money, and it also served as a way to launder his jadeite into legitimate income. Second, through this venture, he provided quite a few jobs, supporting many people and their families. This extended beyond his own company—the tea and liquor suppliers he bought from also saw increased revenue, and their employees reaped the indirect benefits. And third, he simply felt like it.
Why did Laozi write the Tao Te Ching? Because he felt like it, that’s why.
Whether it was him, Yao Yao, Zhao Xueqing, or Lei Xiaohui, they all found what they were doing to be pretty interesting.
Li Xiang had always felt that no matter how miserable life became, no matter how harsh the world, one had to maintain a positive, optimistic mindset. Life needed a sense of ceremony.
Even if the Apocalypse came, he would do everything within his power to ensure certain holidays and festivals were passed on.
For example, the Spring Festival, the Dragon Boat Festival, the Mid-Autumn Festival, the Lantern Festival... and others.
Ancient times were so poor and difficult, so why did the Spring Festival still exist? Because it wasn’t just a sacrificial activity or a state-sponsored celebration; it was a festival for the common folk, one that served a function of social and psychological regulation.
In ancient times, through long periods of hard labor, people gradually came to understand the importance of balancing work with rest. They would arrange for periods of rest and entertainment to relax, which helped them dive into the next phase of labor with more abundant energy.
During the New Year, people didn’t just stop working; they also feasted and drank, sang and danced, and engaged in all kinds of folk activities, enjoying themselves to the fullest. This arrangement of rest and entertainment, this sense of ceremony, helped alleviate the fatigue and stress of the entire year.
But the Apocalypse—with the surface of the Earth uninhabitable, darkness blanketing everything, a world of ice and snow, and Demon Beasts running rampant—is far more difficult than ancient times. If even this sense of ceremony were lost, if the ability to find joy amidst suffering disappeared, then human civilization truly wouldn’t be able to last. It would be not far from extinction.
If there were no holidays at all, wouldn’t that just be waiting for death?
Where would the hope be then?
What the Apocalypse requires is a certain kind of spirit—a will to fight for hope, to fight for the future of humanity! As long as people don’t become pessimistic, as long as they don’t despair, a day will surely come when they can endure and overcome the cold winter and the darkness!
Besides traditional holidays, Li Xiang mused that perhaps they could also create new ones, or reinterpret the old ones.
After all, it would be a new era—a bad one, granted—and in different eras, the meaning of holidays and the ways they are celebrated are bound to be different.
Take "driving away the Nian Beast," for example. Nobody does that anymore, but after the Apocalypse arrives, "driving away the Nian Beast" might just become a literal reality.
Or take the Mid-Autumn Festival. In the Apocalypse, the Moon is no longer visible. Should it still be celebrated?
Li Xiang remembered something from his past life. During the Mid-Autumn Festival in the year before he fell, a five-year-old child at their base—born before the Apocalypse, but too young to have any memory of it—had no idea what the Moon was.
On that Mid-Autumn Festival, the child had asked her mother, "Mommy, what’s the Moon like?"
At that moment, many people were overcome with a deep sorrow and broke down in tears.
