Through a series of bottom-finding operations, Zhang Yang discovered that the water depth at the 4.5-meter rod platform on this side of the reservoir was approximately 2.34 meters.

In Zhang Yang's view, this depth was slightly deep, making it difficult to warm up. However, considering that the area around the fishing spot was relatively flat without obvious steep slopes, he decided to set the fishing position there.

There was no one within ten meters nearby, so Zhang Yang, feeling a bit reckless, threw a bomb manually with the bait mixture of mud and rice for making wine into the pond. He placed the rod on the rack and started chatting with Xiao Yi.

During his stroll, he had already asked around. Others had started baiting an hour and a half before, yet no fish had appeared. The water was cold in the spring, making the baiting slower. Zhang Yang was mentally prepared; it was now 7:30, so waiting at least an hour for a nibble was reasonable.

But reality never shifts according to the angler's will. Zhang Yang thought it was fine and patiently waited for an hour, yet there was no movement at the fishing spot.

Not only was there no movement at Zhang Yang's spot, but even on the west bank, few anglers caught fish.

"Brother Yang, why do I feel that the fish behavior in the reservoir isn't quite right today!"

Seated behind on a folding chair, Xiao Yi couldn't hold back and asked softly.

Zhang Yang was a bit unsure too. The bobber was too quiet; not only was there no sign of the baiting, but even the disturbance by small fish was absent. It was like the fishing setup was just thrown into a water tank.

Zhang Yang glanced over at the west bank: "Indeed, something seems off! You stay here, I'll take another walk and ask around!"

Zhang Yang got up from his fishing spot and wandered again to ask face-to-face.

After a round of inquiries, Zhang Yang felt even colder inside.

On the west bank, there were at least twenty anglers, and only one used a 7.2-meter rod to catch a half-pound crucian carp, and that was caught when changing bait with a half-water snag from the crucian carp's underarm. No one else got a single nibble.

Returning to his fishing spot, Zhang Yang's face was grave.

"Did you find out? What's going on?" Xiao Yi curiously asked.

"Nine out of ten, there's been interference! Today's going to be complex. No one on the west bank caught a proper bite, just an uncle using a 7.2-meter long rod snagged a crucian carp!"

"Interference?" Xiao Yi was slightly taken aback upon hearing Zhang Yang's words.

The term "interference" was a local dialect, which translates to man-made disruptions or disturbances.

Zhang Yang nodded: "I'm just guessing! The spot likely won't attract fish! Traveling such a distance, I can't just head back embarrassingly in less than two hours!

I'll switch to a longer rod and try baiting a few more spots elsewhere!"

Having said this, Zhang Yang packed up his 4.5-meter rod and opened the rod bag to take out the longest one inside, an 8.1-meter fishing rod.

This 8.1-meter rod was sample material ordered from the rod manufacturer by the boss lady of Xinda at Zhang Yang's request last year.

After getting it, it was used just once due to the lack of suitable fish conditions; unexpectedly, it found its purpose today.

Zhang Yang took out a spool of mainline from the accessory box and assembled an 8.1-meter 1.2-line setup on-site. He also switched to a mixed float of about 2.4g weight. After some busy adjustments, the new rod setup was complete.

He tested the water depth with the 8.1-meter rod, finding it about three meters deep with a 60-centimeter depth drop, indicating that the slope at the base of the reservoir was not too steep. This further confirmed Zhang Yang's suspicion.

In the next half hour, Zhang Yang opened two more packs of rice for making wine, and strolled to the east bank and the south bank, making a mud-and-rice bait spot at each.

After finishing all this, he returned to the current position at the fishing platform and continued waiting patiently.

Having waited again for almost an hour, the phone time was approaching half-past ten, yet there was still no movement on the north bank where Zhang Yang was fishing.

"Damn it, I just don't believe it, such a large reservoir, having caught continuously the day before yesterday, today can't be got even a single bite?"

Zhang Yang was getting a bit impatient, carrying his rod and heading towards the east bank again.

By a little past ten in the morning, the sun was high, with the outdoor temperature at least around ten degrees. There had been no sudden changes in temperature or pressure in recent days, so logically there should have been bites.

With a relentless spirit, Zhang Yang soon arrived at the marked spot where he had previously baited on the middle-east bank.

Zhang Yang glanced at the red worm bait on the double hook, swung his upper arm with the force of his lower arm, and precisely cast the fishing group to the marked location with skill.

Hard work pays off, after changing to this spot on the east bank, within thirty seconds of the double hooks reaching the spot, Zhang Yang noticed the bobber giving a slight upward tick of half a division.

"Damn, finally got a bite!"

Seeing this slight movement, Zhang Yang breathed a sigh of relief; it didn't matter what fish were in the spot, as long as the bobber reacted, it was better than not moving at all.

Before he finished talking to himself, the slightly lifted bobber suddenly gave a strong dip of about a half mark within a few seconds.

The nibble wasn't big, but the dip was strong. Combined with the previous prelude actions, Zhang Yang judged this to be an entrance bobber signal, decisively lifting the rod to strike!

The force transmitted through the underwater fishing setup to Zhang Yang's palm confirmed a catch! The force wasn't too strong, but the hook hit the fish!

Zhang Yang, who'd been hoping all morning, immediately raised the rod, using the rod's core strength to lift the fish out of the water.

Its scales were snowy white, indeed a pure wild large bream.

Zhang Yang raised his arm, swiftly dragging the bream close to the water's surface to the shore. Holding the fishing line with his left hand, he grasped the fish in his palm.

Holding the bream, its chill was surprising. In the early spring season, the water temperature was too low, making Zhang Yang shiver slightly.