Chapter 825: Fishing Against

Ideals are full and rich, but reality is lean and bony—especially when unaided by fortune.

Wei Yuan stared at the thin yellow bamboo fishing rod before him and gained a new understanding of life's cruelty. If he were to make his living by fishing, this rod would keep him teetering on the edge of hunger and warmth day and night.

After crafting the fishing gear, the final step was choosing bait—a choice with immense variety and profound depth. Sometimes, ordinary little things, due to obscure karmic causes, could lure forth divine objects.

In the history of cultivation, someone once used the unknown bloodline descendant of a mighty immortal of that era as bait, luring that immortal into a fatal trap and completing the great feat of slaying a celestial being.

At this moment, Wei Yuan carried a fish box and fishing rod, dressed in wide-sleeved robes, arriving before the main peak's sheer cliff. Here, divine flowers and spirit herbs had been planted, an ancient tree transplanted, and a stone table and chairs carved from ten-thousand-year-old green-patterned stone placed nearby, the table bearing a nineteen-by-nineteen go board to remind all who came that the master of this place was a grand master of the game.

All preparations complete, Wei Yuan placed a nine-thousand-year-old purple wisteria woven chair at the cliff's edge, swept his robes aside, sat down slowly, then raised the yellow bamboo rod—no line, no bait—only a deep azure aura of human fortune attached to it. He cast it out and began fishing the sea of clouds.

To fish upon the sea of clouds, Wei Yuan had specially mobilized the realm's power, creating a permanent, undispersing sea of clouds around the main peak. This cloud sea served no purpose for fortune fishing, but was vital to Wei Yuan's mood.

With one cast, Wei Yuan sat by the cliff, fishing over the abyss, wind stirring clouds, flowers exhaling fragrance, trees whispering—a true earthly paradise!

When Wei Yuan had once seen Ting Hai and Yan Shi, those two would routinely fish before the cliff, filling him with envy. Now, at last, it was his turn.

Wei Yuan split his spiritual sense into multiple strands, observing and recording his posture from every angle, minutely adjusting details lacking in celestial grace, then meticulously refining composition and color, busily absorbed.

This was no trivial matter. When Wei Yuan achieved greatness and first ascended to immortality, this very image would be venerated by all—how else could fortune be drawn? Thus, Wei Yuan gave it his utmost care.

As Wei Yuan labored, he suddenly felt the fishing rod dip! Though slight, his perception was razor-sharp—he immediately knew the bait had been touched by something. Yet the sensation on his hand indicated it had not yet taken the hook.

Wei Yuan had cast only a single strand of fortune, borrowed from a certain Dharma Form, merely to practice his technique and distract the Witch Clan's attention, expecting no catch. Yet the first cast already drew a response—this was an unexpected delight.

Wei Yuan hesitated, then casually released hundreds of strands of human fortune. As the fortune sank, the rod dipped again. This time, Wei Yuan clearly saw several karmic threads on the rod—flickering dimly, ready to snap at any moment, each bound to an unknown karmic connection.

So many possible catches exceeded Wei Yuan's expectations. He pondered a moment, then added hundreds more strands of fortune to each thread.

Some karmic threads strengthened noticeably; others, as if startled, abruptly severed their link to Wei Yuan. In the end, only three threads remained attached to the rod.

Now came the moment to bet. Wei Yuan recalled the phrase "survival of the fittest," and placed one hundred thousand strands of azure fortune on each of the three threads, waiting to see the outcome.

This time, the fortune took longer to dissipate. Two karmic threads snapped suddenly; beneath the sea of clouds, massive shapes glided past, emitting low roars. These were not men fishing—they were fish fishing men. Under the weight of fortune, they could no longer hide, so the fish that had been angling for humans reeled in their lines.

The final karmic thread not only remained, but strengthened noticeably. Yet the fish on the line sensed danger and began struggling to escape.

At this point, how could Wei Yuan let it slip away? And from the sensation in his hand, he judged the creature to lie between a Dharma Form and a Divine Vision—likely not yet reached Divine Vision.

Not even a Divine Vision, Wei Yuan felt he could easily subdue it, and so he unleashed fifty thousand azure strands at once. The creature sensed imminent peril and thrashed violently—the rod bent into a bow!

Wei Yuan sat unmoving. His first battle was nearly won; poise was paramount. He swept his sleeve, and a burst of colored light fell upon the rod. He added another fifty thousand azure strands. The rod's perilous curve immediately eased slightly.

Azure fortune was formless and intangible—only Wei Yuan could see it. But if no one could see it, how would they know he had just cast fifty thousand strands in a single gesture? So Wei Yuan adorned the fortune with colored light—a mere illusion, not true divine radiance, meant only to suggest grandeur.

But an unexpected event occurred. The fifty thousand strands vanished as if swallowed by the sea, leaving no ripple. The creature still thrashed violently beneath the clouds, unyielding. Wei Yuan's face darkened instantly—he knew he had hooked a giant. He had already spent one hundred thousand strands, yet the fish still had strength to spare. Its earlier struggles had been feigned; now its thrashing was outright provocation.

Wei Yuan did not rush his next move. Instead, he calmly assessed his remaining human fortune and its rate of replenishment, weighing whether to abandon now or wager everything and claim all the chips on the table.

In a hidden realm, moonlight flowed like water across the earth, though no full moon hung in the sky—the radiance was everywhere. Amidst a dense forest of ancient trees and jagged rocks, shadows loomed as a stream wound through like a silver ribbon, clear and murmuring, ceaseless. Deep within, mist curled in fine threads, swirling around treetops and stone crevices, faintly revealing a figure.

Sitting on a flat stone was a silver-haired boy with multiple tails, his face translucent, features elegant, yet a string of blood-red pendants at his earlobes refracted a crimson gleam under the silver moonlight, exuding a seductive charm. He held a fishing rod entirely made of silver, with a few white fox tails adorning the handle—now visibly curved.

The boy smiled faintly, murmuring to himself: "So much fortune already cast? Let me weigh it… hmm, about one hundred thousand strands. Truly, you've staked your all! Wei Yuan, Wei Yuan—you think yourself an angler, yet you never imagined you've been tugging on my line all along?"

Too bad. No matter how high you bet this time, meeting me means you're doomed to lose. How much more fortune will you cast? One hundred thousand? One hundred fifty thousand? Ha! Let you waste so much fortune—Lord Lord Huiye will be delighted, and reward you handsomely!"

…

At this moment, Wei Yuan understood the dire situation—but having long held high rank, he could act decisively. He flicked his finger, and instantly fifty thousand azure strands descended, another fifty thousand still clutched in his hand.

As the vast fortune poured down, the heavens and earth subtly shifted.

A crushing weight suddenly surged through the rod—but the slender bamboo held firm, hauling up the creature that seemed to weigh hundreds of thousands of catties!

Wei Yuan rejoiced, stepping back like a dragonfly skimming water, distancing himself from the sea of clouds, then gazing at his rod. The thin yellow bamboo rod was utterly bare—nothing at all!

Wei Yuan had not tied a line, yet he had clearly hooked a giant fish. Fifty thousand strands of fortune had shaken heaven and earth—this was no jest.

Yet staring at the empty rod, Wei Yuan wondered: What had he caught? Where was it?

In the hidden realm, the many-tailed boy suddenly felt a terrifying force tug his rod, yanking him forward, headfirst into the stream. He gasped in alarm, scrambling frantically onto shore, his face slamming into the riverbed stones, leaving multiple cuts that bled profusely.

Ignoring his wounds, he urgently examined his rod—the fragment of stone tied to the end of the line remained, untouched.

The boy exhaled in relief. This shard of stone was immensely valuable in itself, and deeply connected to the Tai Chu Palace—the perfect bait, utterly irreplaceable. Lose it, and he'd owe his life a hundred times over.

As long as the stone remained, all was well. His face relaxed as he recalled the recent events—then suddenly turned pale. In that final instant, the opposing force had been terrifyingly immense—and clearly, something had been reeled away!

What had Wei Yuan reeled away? The boy thought of the terrifying pull at the end, and of what might have been taken—his face grew ashen, trembling uncontrollably.

After much deliberation, remembering Lord Lord Huiye's terrifying methods, the boy dared not conceal anything. He left the hidden realm and hurried toward Moon City.

(End of Chapter)