Farming Games are All About Grinding-Chapter 21 The Origin of Huang Feihong

After dinner, Han Qiwu escorted Grandpa Chen home and then headed to the riverside.

Since leveling up his fishing skill to Level 1, Han Qiwu had accumulated 100 points (Elder's Blessing) + 635 points + 260 points = 995 experience points.

It took 100 points to go from Level 0 to Level 1—what if leveling up from Level 1 to Level 2 required exactly 1,000 points?

Anyway, fishing never comes at a loss. The reward from Yimeng Soul could wait until tonight to be checked.

When he reached the river, Han Qiwu picked a good spot and started fishing.

You can't even use bait if you don't level up.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Every time he looked at the [Bronze Knife], Han Qiwu felt annoyed. It was like being on a long holiday, but your girlfriend decided to get *that*.

Time flew by while fishing, and an hour passed in the blink of an eye.

The catch was decent—two largemouth bass, one crucian carp, and two yellow catfish.

Yellow catfish, commonly known as "yellow bonefish" or "yellow spicy fish," have tender meat and are delicious.

"The yellow spicy fish is pretty good. One for soup, and the other I'll sell to enrich my encyclopedia," Han Qiwu planned meticulously.

"I'm not going! You go if you want!"

At that moment, Han Qiwu heard Huang Mao's voice coming from the dirt road nearby. He stood up to see Uncle Huang, who had joined them for lunch earlier, chasing Huang Mao with a tree branch in hand.

Cornered, Huang Mao tapped into his survival instincts and climbed up a tree.

"Nyah-nyah-nyah, you can't catch me!" Huang Mao taunted smugly from the branch.

Uncle Huang, exhausted, dropped the branch in his hand. "Huang Gang, are you this spineless? Where's your father's pride supposed to go now?"

"Old Huang, you know Zhang Shan's build—a 5'3", 140-pound beast who could take me out with one hand. How am I supposed to compete with that?" Huang Gang shook his head emphatically from the tree.

"You STILL have to go! How can you know you'll fail if you don't try? Treat it like doing farm work for the family!" Old Huang's face was flushed with urgency.

"Then you go! Isn't this all about making me marry Zhang Shan? If you're so set on it, why don't YOU marry her? I'll smooth things over with Mom for you," Huang Gang chuckled as he shook his head.

Hearing this, Han Qiwu couldn't help but sigh. What a dutiful child Huang Mao was—a true sweetheart.

"You little punk! I'll call for a saw right now, cut this tree down, and deal with you with a chainsaw!" Furious, Old Huang was on the verge of transforming into a Texas Chainsaw Massacre character.

"Go on, then! I'll call my mom right now," Huang Mao retorted, reaching for his phone—when suddenly, Red Hair's voice rang out.

"Huh? You're here too, watching the fun?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm fishing. Just came over when I heard the commotion." Han Qiwu awkwardly scratched his nose, not knowing where this guy had popped out from like a jack-in-the-box.

When Old Huang saw Han Qiwu, he instantly quieted down. No matter how hopeless his kid was, he couldn't scold him in front of his peers.

After all, when kids grow up, they need face, too.

Han Qiwu took all this in. Now that Red Hair had inadvertently exposed him, he might as well help out Old Huang.

After all, lunch had just brought them all together over spicy camaraderie.

Just for that serving of spicy chicken Uncle Huang handed him, Han Qiwu was determined to have his back!

"Hey Uncle Huang, fancy running into you again." Han Qiwu greeted him and then deliberately raised his voice at Red Hair, "So, what's your score now?"

"30 points! I caught a fish yesterday, tilled some land in the evening, and this morning I cut some pigweed," Red Hair answered happily.

Ah, the boy was teachable!

"30 points is nothing special. I got 10 points just from fishing," Huang Mao grumbled from the tree, clearly irritated.

"30 points IS a big deal! I've got double your score!" Red Hair spat toward Huang Mao.

"Exactly! Red Hair's in the lead now. Anyway, you saw it earlier—Uncle Huang and Uncle Zhang made a bet to see whose kid is better at farm work. Huang Gang doesn't want to step up, but if you go help pull Zhang Shan away, adding 30 points doesn't seem excessive, does it?"

"30 points isn't too much, but man, that's gonna be a pain. Let's make it 40 points instead. What do you think, Huang Mao?" Red Hair raised his head and shouted. The two had their own set of rules, where added points always required mutual agreement.

"40? Isn't that way too much? Fine by me," Huang Mao muttered while squatting on the branch.

"Alright, then I'll handle it," Red Hair cheered, heading toward his bicycle. But before he could react, Huang Mao leapt down with a swoosh, hopped onto Red Hair's bike, and dashed away.

This historic moment became known as the Legend of Huang Feihong (Red Hair edition).

"You idiot! You think I'd let you solve a 40-point task for me? Dream on! I'll earn those points myself and become the champ! Hahaha!" Huang Mao's voice trailed off as both he and the bicycle disappeared a dozen meters away.

"Damn it! That's MY bike!" Red Hair bellowed before hopping onto Huang Mao's bike to give chase.

"Uncle Huang, problem solved." Han Qiwu smiled as he stepped forward. Those two were just too entertaining.

Old Huang seemed momentarily stunned—he hadn't expected Huang Gang to be so easily persuaded.

"Xiao Han, you should hang out with Huang Gang more often. Keep an eye on him when you can; if he doesn't behave, let me know, and I'll cut off his allowance and give it to you!"

"I know this kid's a bit of a fool, but he's not bad by nature. Everyone in the town knows he's never stolen a thing in all these years, not a bad kid at heart." As Old Huang spoke, he sighed. "It's just that when he was a kid, his mom and I worked far away. We only saw him a few times a year, and he's never really been close to us. After his grandmother passed, he became like this."

"Got it. Don't worry—I'll make sure we 'communicate' often. Now hurry up and go spectate!" Han Qiwu urged.

"Oh, right!" Old Huang snapped out of it, thanked him again, and pedaled off.

Han Qiwu turned his back, waiting for the wind to blow dramatically against his clothes—a moment of cinematic flair.

Two minutes later.

"Forget it—back to fishing." Han Qiwu gave up on theatrics and grabbed his rod again.

Yellow spicy fish were barely palm-sized; one wouldn't yield much meat. He needed more.

Three hours later.

Han Qiwu returned home with a bountiful haul. Luck was decent in the afternoon—four more yellow spicy fish, two largemouth bass, and two clumps of water grass.

Back home, Han Qiwu tossed four largemouth bass and three yellow spicy fish into the selling box. The other three would make the perfect dinner.

"Weird, now where'd that reward go?" Han Qiwu muttered as he searched the house, failing to locate the Yimeng Soul reward.

It wasn't until he revisited the log that he realized he needed to check his mailbox.

Inside lay a blue book and a ten-centimeter-long sword.

"A ten-centimeter Longsword???" Han Qiwu exclaimed, pulling out the blue booklet first.

The booklet looked like something out of a classic martial arts series—akin to the *Palm of Buddha Hand* volumes. The slightly yellowed pages added an aura of antiquity.

Of course, it would've looked even more authentic if the first page wasn't stamped with a QR code.

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