Chapter 115: Unable to Stop at All

Setting sail in the morning, the yacht surged into the azure sea at thirty knots. The sky was cloudless, with seagulls circling overhead in a constant, rhythmic dance.

Boss Wu, who was piloting the boat, explained as they navigated that shipwrecks and artificial reefs were the most beloved habitats for fish. Over the past few years, the artificial reef clusters around Zhangzi Island had gathered countless schools of fish. The sheer size of the fish here was unimaginable, making it a truly unique destination for domestic sea fishing.

Sea fishing is considered the pinnacle of the sport, with a history spanning centuries abroad and ranking alongside golf and equestrianism as a pursuit for the elite. When choosing a spot, it is best to avoid shallows, as they are exposed to abundant sunlight, and most fish are photophobic, venturing into shallow waters only at night or during dawn and dusk.

The best locations are in slack water areas, such as river estuaries, active piers, or breakwaters. These places often have muddy or sandy bottoms, slow currents, and rich bait, which attract larger fish.

When fishing from reefs, one should select the side facing the incoming tide, known in the trade as the "tide face." It brings in a wealth of plankton, and the water crashing against the rocks creates an oxygen-rich environment—a golden, ideal position.

An excellent sea angler must not only possess extensive knowledge of the ocean but also be proficient in rock climbing, mountaineering, navigation, and swimming. They must also have the stamina to carry seventy or eighty pounds of gear while scrambling across jagged rocks. Especially in summer, enduring the intense heat while wrapped tightly in gear—looking like a marine commando—requires top-tier physical fitness.

The greatest joy lies in the fact that saltwater fish are far more ferocious than their freshwater counterparts; they strike the moment they see bait. The ocean is vast and diverse, with fish inhabiting every level of the water column. One never knows what will be on the other end of the line.

The deckhand prepared the rods—100-120 class boat rods, 2.4 meters in length. The terminal tackle featured a main line of 6-8 gauge PE braided line paired with a 6-8 gauge nylon leader. A 40-centimeter single-arm or 80-centimeter double-arm steel wire spreader was connected, with a 500-gram lead weight. The spreader held two hooks of varying lengths, with a 30-centimeter leader extending from the bottom.

Floats are of little use in sea fishing; one relies entirely on the tactile vibrations or visual cues during lure fishing or trolling. The bait used was frozen shrimp, cut into small segments to prevent them from being easily stripped.

Upon reaching the destination—a nearby artificial fishery perfect for beginners—the owner cut the engines. He cautioned that if they caught any unfamiliar fish or jellyfish, they should never touch them with their bare hands, as many were venomous or aggressive. Safety came first.

Everyone took their positions. At the sound of a whistle, lines were cast into the sea. Zhuang Chen, learning on the fly, stood with his feet apart, weight shifted to his left, holding the lead in his left hand. With a fifty-degree angle, he swung the rod with his right hand and released the line with his left. The cast was accurate; it was simple and easy to learn.

As soon as the rig hit the bottom, a powerful strike vibrated through the rod. He jerked the rod to set the hook, paused, and felt the tip tremble violently. With the owner’s help, he reeled in. He was stunned—there were fish on all three hooks! They were all yellow croakers, each weighing between half a pound and three-quarters of a pound. Looking over at Xia Long and Xia Hu, their four-hook rigs were also full of various catches.

The crew was shouting and hauling in fish. Once they drifted past the prime spot, the order was given to reel in, reposition, and drop again. Xia Long began tossing the smaller croakers back; he was only interested in the big ones.

Zhuang Chen was exhilarated. He dropped his line back to the seafloor, and the moment the tip moved, he set the hook. This time, he lifted the rig about three meters. The rod bent into a deep arc. After reeling in, he landed a black rockfish weighing over ten pounds.

In just half an hour, with the three of them fishing, they had filled one full basket and two half-baskets—a total of one hundred pounds of fish! The largest was a twenty-seven-pound yellow croaker, alongside a twelve-pound cod. The frequency, the bite rate, and the size were enough to make one’s pulse race and adrenaline surge. It was incredibly satisfying.

It brought to mind the advertising slogan: "You just can't stop..."

In our daily lives, we are often troubled by trivialities. Who doesn’t yearn for a private sanctuary to store away all their distractions? There are always moments when we don’t want to face difficulties. Whether in life or at work, we wear different masks to cater to different people, only to look in the mirror one day and wonder if we are still ourselves.

To escape the noise, to avoid the crowds, to live authentically—finding peace by the sea, casting a line into the vast expanse, feeling relaxed, carefree, heroic, and uninhibited—finally brings a sense of inner peace.

Society has grown numb, and daily life has become a repetitive routine, lacking passion. Yet, humans possess a primal drive, especially men. The desire to conquer challenges and overcome difficulties is pronounced. Zhuang Chen discovered for the first time that while sea fishing appears calm and elegant, it satisfies a deep, wild desire for conquest.

Being cleansed by the blue sea and sky, experiencing the joy of landing a big fish, pitting one’s wits against the prey—the moment of submission triggers an explosive sense of triumph that words cannot express. Every time, he found himself longing for the next battle.

Surrounded by the vast, endless ocean, it seems calm on the surface but is filled with churning waves beneath. You can never predict what lies in the depths. Curiosity always drives you to explore the unknown. When you cast your bait and wait in silence, you wonder: are there fish here? How big are they? What kind are they?

Until the moment you reel in, everything remains a mystery. Throughout the fishing trip, Zhuang Chen’s emotions rose and fell—joy, surprise, frustration, astonishment, satisfaction, regret, anger, sadness... a kaleidoscope of feelings, as if it were a true reflection of life itself.

Finally, exhausted, they lay on the deck. Even Xia Long and Xia Hu were covered in sweat and panting. The three of them looked at the hundreds of pounds of catch and burst into laughter, feeling utterly liberated.

The owner brought out a palm-sized scallop, shucked it with a sharp knife, rinsed it with seawater, and handed it to Zhuang Chen. "Try this, it’s absolutely fresh."

Zhuang Chen was stunned. Eat it raw? He sniffed it—no off-putting odor. He took a cautious bite and his face lit up with pleasure. A faint saltiness wrapped in sweetness nourished his parched taste buds; the texture was like cream, with a subtle, refreshing fragrance.

The owner smiled broadly. Seeing Zhuang Chen finish, he gave a thumbs up, then produced a sea urchin, cracked it open, removed the black innards to reveal the golden flesh, and urged, "Eat it quickly, or it will melt!"

Zhuang Chen steeled himself, scooped a piece with a spoon, and put it in his mouth. The urchin roe was orange-red, like a ripe persimmon. Each segment was large and firm with a distinct texture. Upon eating, the rich, delicious fat exploded on his lips, leaving a lingering, endless sweetness.

The owner laughed heartily. "That’s a Ezo Bafun sea urchin. What we call the 'roe' is actually the reproductive gland."

"Try this white sea urchin, a local specialty." He cracked another one open. Compared to the aggressive, bold flavor of the previous one, this was more delicate and refreshing—sweet and light.

Then came the purple sea urchin, pale yellow and fuller than the others. While not as intense in flavor, it had an elegant, refined texture. Its sweetness was perhaps a bit more subtle, but the silky, melting sensation on the tongue was incomparable.

Sea urchin is a staple of Japanese cuisine, and because of the many varieties, there are even "urchin platters." Different types laid out side-by-side, ranging in color from golden to orange-red, are like a mini tasting menu, offering an ultimate experience from light and delicate to rich and creamy.

Especially in gunkan-maki sushi, the urchin is naturally rich and flavorful; there is no need for soy sauce or wasabi. The simple vinegared rice doesn't overshadow it but highlights the lingering sweetness. The urchin melts in the mouth, the rice provides a chewy contrast—a perfect match.

With translucent fish roe nestled against golden urchin, the savory saltiness of the roe and the unique flavor of the urchin intertwine. Paired with seaweed, scallions, and pickled cucumber, a single bowl of rice can offer layers upon layers of taste.

In the film *If You Are The One*, the character played by Ge You, after hungrily devouring a bowl of sea urchin rice, remarked with deep emotion: "Briny, translucent, and stimulating!"