The afternoon lessons were straightforward, merely replicating the morning’s training regimen. However, unlike the morning session, under the spirited leadership of Fire Wushuang and her three companions, the class once again found themselves in the familiar spectacle of challenging the Witch.
With a resigned sigh, Aya Tone could only cover her lips, which curved upwards despite herself, as she indulged in the exhilarating thrill of ‘frying fish’ – effortlessly dominating everyone – throughout the entire session. Oh, the irony! Fishing in the morning, ‘frying’ fish in the afternoon. To have such thoughtful students, so attuned to their teacher’s needs… it truly brought a tear to her eye.
****
As night descended, Chen Yu uploaded the video he had just finished editing to Bilibili, giving it the provocative title, ‘Newbie Grand Gift Package: Terrifyingly Potent.’ Once it was live, he retreated to the hotel bathroom for a quick rinse, washing away the day’s sweat before succumbing to an early sleep.
‘Today yielded nothing,’ he thought, ‘but tomorrow, I’ll rise early and conquer Dragon Court once more!’ Unbeknownst to him, as he drifted into a deep slumber, the entire fishing community was already in an uproar because of his video.
“When I was abducted as a child, I recall there being a lake just like this. Could you share the location? I want to go home…”
“Brother, you left a Huazi cigarette in my car. I’ll drop it off for you now.”
“…”
The comment section was a flurry of discussion, clearly stunned by the sheer abundance of resources in Dragon Court Lake. It was said you could just toss in a clump of grass and instantly get a bite. Such dense concentrations of fish were the stuff of dreams for countless ’empty-handed’ anglers – a veritable holy land! As for the first half of the video, detailing Chen Yu’s morning of catching absolutely nothing, it was conveniently and rather briskly skipped over by the viewers. The fact that someone could reel in such a haul was evidence enough. If you couldn’t, you needed to seriously reflect on your own shortcomings, not simply complain about the environment.
‘An empty-handed angler:’ ‘I thought the same thing before I even cast my line.’
****
The very next morning, Chen Yu rose early, determined to pack his fishing gear. He simply refused to believe he would return empty-handed again today! Upon opening his phone, he paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face: the video he’d uploaded just last night already boasted tens of thousands of views. ‘Had Bilibili pushed it to the front page for him?’ he mused. He offered a wry smile as he scrolled past the comments, which were overwhelmingly requests for the fishing spot’s exact location. However, his scrolling finger abruptly halted when he noticed a user had posted a photograph entirely unrelated to fishing.
–念、十: [Is this the girl the streamer encountered?]–
Chen Yu’s brow furrowed imperceptibly. He had meticulously pixelated the child’s face in the video, making it abundantly clear that her identity was not to be publicly disclosed. ‘How could anyone still unearth her information?’ he wondered, suppressing a surge of anger. Despite his irritation, he tapped to open the photograph.
The person in the photograph was strikingly familiar, yet simultaneously a complete stranger. She was identical to the child he had encountered by the lake, but this girl in the picture wore a black formal gown, her delicate young face etched with a chilling aloofness—an entirely different demeanor from the child he had met just last night. Chen Yu’s finger, which had been hovering over the ‘report’ button, slipped, and he inadvertently tapped on the replies beneath the comment.
The ensuing revelations sent a cold shiver down his spine.
“Isn’t that our country’s Witch? Now that I look closely, the resemblance is uncanny.”
“Come to think of it, didn’t the streamer mention a few days ago that they were heading to Nan’an City? And isn’t the new combat academy our nation just established located precisely in Nan’an City?”
“It’s confirmed! The streamer encountered that esteemed individual.”
The replies below continued their fervent discussion, but Chen Yu found himself unable to read any further.
He quickly opened a search engine and, with trembling fingers, typed ‘Silver-haired Witch.’ ‘Could it truly be her?’ he wondered. Almost instantly, the public information regarding Aya Tone appeared before Chen Yu. The fair, exquisite face in the profile picture was undeniably the same as the child he had met just yesterday. ‘No wonder she seemed so surprised that I didn’t recognize her; so that’s the reason…’ Without hesitation, Chen Yu swiftly deleted the video.
What he had initially dismissed as a simple fishing excursion had unexpectedly led him to encounter a figure of such immense importance—this was a matter of national security! He certainly had no desire to be inexplicably visited by ‘uncles,’ hauled back to the station, and treated to pork knuckle rice. ‘Thank goodness I realized it early,’ he thought, ‘otherwise…’ Chen Yu silently congratulated himself for pulling back from the precipice, thus averting any significant damage.
Before he could dwell on it any longer, a phone call came through the very next second. The number displayed was one he didn’t recognize. ‘Could the secret truly be out?’ he worried. Having just deleted the video, only for a call to come in immediately after, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of suspicion. Chen Yu swallowed hard, his finger hovering over the answer button, his mind a tumultuous battleground of indecision, unable to bring himself to press it.
After a prolonged internal struggle, just as the ringtone was about to cease, he finally tapped the ‘answer’ button. ‘Admitting my mistake proactively is far better than being forced to confess,’ he reasoned, ‘at least my attitude will be clear. They shouldn’t make things too difficult for me, should they?’
“Hello, good afternoon?”
The call connected, and a standard, pleasant female voice chimed through.
“Hello, may I help you?”
“I’m a public relations officer from Dragon Court Academy. I just noticed the video you uploaded last night was suddenly taken down, and I wanted to inquire if you’ve encountered any difficulties.”
Before Chen Yu could even process the full sentence, his limbs turned to jelly, and he collapsed onto the hotel bed with a soft thud. ‘So, they’ve come to hold me accountable after all?’ he thought, dread pooling in his stomach.
“Hello, sir?” The voice on the phone now held a slight note of confusion.
“I… I apologize. I uploaded the video without your esteemed academy’s consent. I’ve already removed it. If it has caused any losses to your institution, I…” Chen Yu gritted his teeth, remembering the considerable earnings he’d amassed from his videos over the years. “I am willing to compensate your academy for any damages incurred.”
“…”
On the other end of the line, the public relations officer hesitated, then looked up helplessly at her superior.
“It’s quite alright,” her boss, Deng Hongcheng, reassured her. “Just tell him the truth; there’s no need for him to worry.” The Principal had made it clear: anything concerning Teacher Aya could be publicized, but it would incur a fee. With the Principal’s calming words, the young woman relayed the situation.
“Please don’t be alarmed, sir, we’re not looking to initiate legal action,” she explained. “We merely hoped you might consider continuing to promote our academy.” Dragon Court Academy was still in its formative stages. While there were whispers online about it being a nationally prioritized project, the outside world remained largely unacquainted with the institution. The public relations department had been racking their brains for external promotional strategies, and this video had been like a pillow arriving just as they felt drowsy—the kind of good fortune that would make one wake up laughing. But who could have predicted that upon waking, they would find the video deleted? Without any prior warning, an uninformed public might easily assume they had resorted to some unsavory tactics to silence the uploader. Conspiracy theorists were rife these days, and if the academy’s reputation suffered because of this incident, their department would be in dire straits.
“You mean,” Chen Yu stammered, “I can post videos about *that* person?”
“Yes, you absolutely can.”
When the video had first been uploaded, they had already received an urgent internal audit message from Bilibili. ‘Silver hair,’ ‘Dragon Court Academy’—combined, these two keywords were unmistakable. Only Chen Yu, the dedicated angler whose mind was solely fixated on catching meter-long fish, could have missed the obvious implication. How could the auditors, who meticulously sifted through vast quantities of information every single day, possibly fail to recognize that the pixelated little girl in the video was none other than one of the nation’s top powerhouses? Upon receiving the audit’s message, Deng Hongcheng had immediately placed a call to Aya Tone. Aya Tone, ever nonchalant, simply stated that if it was posted, it was posted, adding that the person was ‘quite nice,’ even giving her fishing line to play with. Thus, armed with Aya Tone’s explicit authorization, they finally dared to put the video back online. To inadvertently provoke a pillar of the nation would mean, at the very least, losing their positions. Of course, the detail about charging a fee was Deng Hongcheng’s personal addition.
After hanging up the phone, Chen Yu felt as though he had just awakened from a vivid dream, the back of his shirt already drenched in cold sweat. ‘That was far too exhilarating!’ he mused. ‘Indeed, an angler can catch anything but the fish they intend to! To stumble upon even the elusive Witch, who appears and vanishes like a phantom dragon… heheh.’ He had nearly caused a catastrophic incident—for both parties involved.