Chapter 1576: Fishing Day (Part 5)

"You always say I'm changing the subject, but in fact, I've given an explanation for every single word."

"Then please forgive our stupidity and lack of professionalism for failing to dig out your answer, which is buried a thousand feet beneath your words."

Shiler laughed deeply. Natasha turned her head in surprise and stared at Shiler, as if she saw a vitality in him that was completely different from the past.

"Where were we? Family comes from a sense of responsibility, responsibility comes from love, and where love comes from is unclear—perhaps it's hormones; at least sex comes from that."

"But you also mentioned that patients with autism spectrum disorder do not have such obstacles," Nick pointed out.

"Yes, but we also discussed that if there are other sensory symptoms connected to this, the matter becomes very dangerous, especially for the recipient."

Natasha raised one eyebrow, pressed the index finger of the hand resting on the sofa against her jawline, and said with great interest, "Are you saying you would link violence and sex, Doctor?"

"And we also talked about what the serious consequences caused by violence are," Shiler said, as if discussing an objective fact unrelated to himself.

"Extreme violence leads to death. You link sex with death? In what way?"

After Natasha asked this question, Shiler seemed a bit sleepy. He straightened his upper body from the sofa, placed his empty teacup on the coffee table, yawned, and said, "I'm a bit tired. I'm going upstairs to rest first."

That proposal was agreed upon by everyone. Right now, everyone was very enthusiastic about the fishing and more focused on the harvest, so naturally, fishing was the priority. Later, when they were tired of fishing or needed to warm up, they could gather together to chat and achieve their social goals.

Breaking the ice sounds like a complicated task, but it actually requires certain skills, because you can't just knock a hole in the ice to fish; the selection and shape of the ice hole are very particular.

Charles shook his head in confusion and sat on another high stool. Nick and Natasha exchanged glances instantly. Charles didn't know what riddle they were playing, so he had to ask, "What's wrong?"

Seeing the ice fishing gear waiting for coffee, Charles smiled and asked with some surprise, "Doctor, why aren't you wearing your glasses today?"

Charles followed their lead and looked at the ice fishing gear that had been put back on, but didn't see anything different, so he had to take the coffee from Natasha's hand and talk about matters related to the fishing.

"We will be fishing on the lake all day, that's it."

"Fishing will be more fulfilling than regular fishing, and the harvest will be greater, but that's not because you are a good angler; it's just that the fish are exceptionally fragile this season. The more remote and cold it is, the more so," Shiler said.

"No, it's nothing," Nick shook his head.

"There are boating activities on the lake here in the summer," Nick added, "Although feeding is prohibited, tourists still drop food scraps into the lake, so the fish here grow quite well. Although that trout wasn't an adult, it was quite powerful."

Shiler nodded indifferently, then turned to look at Natasha, who was packing up the fishing gear, and said, "How is your fishing technique?"

"Fine, Americans are just pampered and ungrateful," Nick mocked himself.

During the small talk, they finally arrived at the open area chosen by Nick and Shiler. It was surrounded by mountains on three sides and was a small lake formed by a tributary of the large lake nearby. Here, the fog had dissipated.

After drilling several ice holes in a row, Natasha said, "I think that's about enough. We can group up in twos or threes, first catch as many fish as possible to solve the eating problem, and then gather together to talk later."

"The thickness of the ice is quite suitable. We met the forest ranger here at the edge of the woods. He smashed the ice with a cone, and a trout jumped out immediately. They must have been holding their breath under the ice for a long time."

"I'm just seeing Shiler's eyes clearly for the first time," Natasha shrugged and said, "The glasses he wore before obstructed the view too much."

The ice fishing gear wanted to group with Shiler and Nick, but unexpectedly, Natasha waved him over and said, "There's nothing to talk about when Russians are together. Let's group up, the two of us."

The ice fishing gear sat at the kitchen island, yawned lightly, and still looked a bit sleepy. Natasha, having finished processing the coffee powder, paused when she turned around, then looked the ice fishing gear up and down.

"It's very good for the fish."

"You're awake? Nick and Charles went to check the ice conditions. If nothing goes wrong, we'll set off at three o'clock sharp. Although it's relatively remote here and no one will fight us for a spot, it's better to go early."

They first laid out the tools, set up the stools and tables, put up the windbreak, set up a cluster of flames with empty oil drums, and then began to find a location to chisel the ice.

Erik and Steve walked in from the back door of the cabin. Erik took off his thick gloves, and Steve said, "We've prepared enough wood to handle tonight. When are we setting off to fish?"

Charles and Nick stood by with their hands on their hips, watching Shiler observe the thickness of the ice. Natasha walked over with big strides, swinging her arms, and squatted down next to the spot Shiler had chosen.

"Got off to a good start, right?" Natasha shook her head helplessly, watching the ice fishing gear's figure disappear upstairs, and looked at Nick, saying, "At least we know the ice fishing gear doesn't choose to have a fixed or temporary partner, nor does he build a family. It might be because some of his behaviors would bring harm to the other party."

After saying this, he stood up and walked upstairs without waiting for the others to express their opinions. Natasha, feeling that the conversation was just getting into the swing of things, was clearly not willing to give up so easily. She opened her mouth slightly anxiously, but felt that if the ice fishing gear didn't want to talk, her asking would be useless.

Shiler reached out and stomped on the ground in front of him, signaling that this was the spot, then asked the others to step back a bit. He first reached out to knock a small ice cone in, then shook it left and right to drill a cone shape into the thicker ice layer.

"Is it really unnecessary to spare one person to prepare other food?" The ice fishing gear sighed, looking as if he didn't hold much hope for the harvest.

After that, the group dressed neatly, took the fishing gear, folding stools, food, fire-starting devices, bait, and other necessary tools. In addition, Charles also carried the ice-breaking tools on his back.

"In Russia, especially near my home, the people there don't have the leisure and elegance you do. We fish in winter to fill our stomachs. At that time, if our family had five fishing rods, we would space them out and smash five holes, set up the rods, and the fish caught within two or three days would be enough for us to eat for the whole winter."

"Every full meal you can find in a land of bitter cold is the most precious thing in the world," Erik said a rhetorically long sentence, which was rare, causing Shiler to look at him again.

The female agent said nothing and turned back. At this time, Charles and Nick walked into the house. They were covered in biting cold air. Charles took off his thick coat, shook it hard, and stomped his feet on the threshold before walking in.

"Is your fishing technique very bad?"

"Why are your memories of Russia always so arduous?" Nick turned back, quite puzzled, and asked: "The sky full of snow, the boundless ice field, people who are cold and hungry—my god, isn't there any warm memory?"

"Barely enough to keep the two of us full."

The ice fishing gear sat down on the edge of the island, drinking the piping hot coffee slowly. It wasn't until the whole cup of concentrated hot coffee was in his stomach that he seemed to finally come alive. He coughed softly twice and asked, "What is the schedule for today?"

"Powerful enough to slap you in the face?" Natasha asked with a smile.

Shiler led them, holding a long ice cone, chisel, and shovel in one hand, a roll of waste newspaper tucked under his arm, and a wooden stick in the other hand.

"Don't talk nonsense, it didn't slap me, Charles stopped it with quick eyes and fast hands." Nick clinked his coffee cup with Charles, made a "tsk" sound, and then said, "Why didn't you bring Tony? Otherwise, he would know what it feels like to be slapped by a trout."

The next morning, the ice fishing gear was awakened by the cold wind. The wind blew a corner of the curtain onto his face, which still carried some cold moisture. The ice fishing gear woke up almost instantly. After he sat up from the bed and dressed, he went downstairs and saw Natasha fiddling with the coffee pot in the kitchen.

"Then it all depends on you."

On the way to the designated location, a thin layer of fog rose on the ice, making it look even more cold and lonely. Fortunately, the scenery of the mountains was quite elegant. They chatted for a while on the way, but most of it was about fishing techniques.

"I survived on that fish, isn't that warm enough?" Natasha was also very matter-of-fact.

The ice fishing gear didn't seem very awake. He didn't say anything, walked down from the high stool, turned around, walked towards the second floor, and said, "I forgot, I'll go upstairs and get it."

"Whether it's really like this, we can only continue to observe." Nick also stood up, patted the fireplace ash off his knees, and while walking upstairs, said, "I always feel it's not that simple, but it's a good thing he's willing to speak."

"Now, let's go, we have to walk a mile and a half."

Charles and Nick immediately raised their voices, repeatedly emphasizing that the fish they caught were enough for a full fish feast. Natasha shook her head, as if she had had enough of them.

"Once, I was running for my life in the forest," Natasha also followed and said, "Crossing layers of bushes, I saw a vast ice field appear in my field of vision. I found a stone and smashed a big hole in the ice. An unlucky pike jumped out. It let me have a full meal, and the blood didn't flow much either."

Immediately after, he knocked the large ice cone in, poured some water on the ground, and spread the waste newspaper on it. Very soon, the supercooled water firmly fixed the waste newspaper on the ice surface. Shiler stepped on it to prevent slipping, and then began to strike the ice cone forcefully.

Shiler worked for a long time, and Charles also went up to help. Four or five people worked for more than ten minutes before they opened an ice hole. Then they carefully measured the distance, orientation, and even the wind direction to chisel the second one.

Very soon, the people who followed dispersed in twos and threes. The cabin by the lake was appropriately warm and dim, which made this group of people who were pampered in the city sleep very well.

"Of course there is, didn't I say it? We ate fish for a whole winter, and every meal was very warm." Shiler said naturally.