Fishing is a tiring activity—or at least, that's what Jiang Hai thought.
After casting just two nets, Jiang Hai and his crew were already a bit worn out, though their excitement still ran high.
"Boss, you know what? Canadians don't fish as hard as we do," said Tommy Charles, an old cowboy who had seen a lot in his time. With a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, he chuckled as he spoke. Jiang Hai's curiosity was instantly piqued.
"Oh? So how do Canadians fish?" Jiang Hai asked with interest.
He knew that Americans and Canadians didn't always get along. There was a long-standing rivalry, even if it was unspoken. Americans often looked down on Canadians, and Canadians—at least in some places—resented Americans even more, sometimes even more than the Chinese. Officially, the two nations stood on the same side, but privately, there was plenty of friction.
"Canadians use the same fishing methods as we do, but instead of sorting the fish right away, they just toss everything directly into cold storage. No sorting, no picking—makes the job a lot easier. But you have to watch out when buying seafood from them. They might throw half a basket of seaweed in with the fish," Tommy said, laughing.
The rest of the crew burst into laughter too, clearly recognizing the exaggeration. Everyone knew Canada's population was small compared to its size, and their workforce even smaller. When Canadians went fishing, they usually tossed everything into cold storage first, then sorted it later.
That method had its pros and cons. The good part? Speed—it minimized the time fish spent out of water, preserving their freshness. The bad part? Sorting through icy cold fish was... well, brutal. Just the thought of it gave them chills, especially in this season.
As laughter echoed on the deck, the third net was cast.
There was no denying that Jiang Hai's fishing grounds were unusually abundant. While the fish hadn't yet reached full maturity, they were still impressively large and marketable. Every time they cast a net, they pulled in at least five tons of mixed fish.
By noon, they'd already hauled in five full nets.
They had caught over twenty tons of fish in total. The most abundant catch was American redfish—unsurprising, since that had been their primary stock to begin with.
They had about nine tons of redfish. A large, good-quality redfish in the market could easily fetch $10 per pound retail, though wholesale would be closer to $5. That worked out to around $8–$10 per kilogram, depending on market prices. But Jiang Hai had confidence in his product—his redfish weren't just big, they tasted far better than average. Even conservatively priced at $10 per kilogram, nine tons meant $90,000.
In addition, they had:
One ton of giant grouper, worth $20/kg = $20,000
Two tons of grouper, also $20/kg = $40,000
Three tons of salmon, $30/kg = $90,000
Over two tons of miscellaneous fish, valued roughly the same as redfish = ~$30,000
All totaled, this batch alone was worth about $250,000. While not as profitable as cattle, it was still a significant haul.
"Alright, boss, it's past noon—time to eat and rest up!" said Edward Anderson, checking the time. They had started around 7 a.m., and the hours had flown by in the excitement. Now, fatigue was catching up with them.
"Sounds good. Everyone take a break!" Jiang Hai replied, waving a hand. He wasn't the kind of boss to push his crew too hard—he knew if Edward said something, the others were feeling it too.
Tommy quickly pulled out a portable stove, while Edward and the others got to work cleaning some of the freshly caught squid and octopus. Even though they were of the smaller variety, having been raised in Jiang Hai's nutrient-rich waters had made them noticeably larger and meatier.
Edward, inspired by Xiaoya, had recently become obsessed with grilling squid. He brushed them with a sweet and spicy Mexican hot sauce that neutralized the oceanic funk and enhanced the flavor beautifully.
While they grilled the squid, Jiang Hai sliced up a few small mackerels and laid them over the fire. These fish had little bone and lots of meat—perfect for grilling and eating, though there wasn't enough quantity to sell at scale.
Soon, the food was ready.
Tommy handed Jiang Hai the largest squid. Jiang Hai didn't hesitate—he took a big bite.
He had to admit, the spiritual energy in his waters really was magical. Even something as simple as squid tasted amazing. As the grilled tentacles filled his mouth with juicy flavor, the sweetness of the sauce mixing with the natural umami of the squid, Jiang Hai gave a hearty thumbs-up. It was honestly good enough to sell at a roadside stall.
Seeing Jiang Hai's reaction, Edward and the others laughed. While they'd eaten seafood their whole lives and were long used to it, somehow the fish from Jiang Hai's waters still managed to surprise them.
Barbecue called for beer, and out came a box of iced Corona.
They popped the bottles open and passed them around. Foreign beers like Corona were often a little bitter due to the higher alcohol content, but paired with lemon, the bitterness vanished. A bite of lemon, a sip of beer, and a mouthful of grilled squid or mackerel—the flavor was perfect.
Lemons were also essential at sea, not just for taste but for nutrition. They helped prevent scurvy, though that wasn't something Jiang Hai personally worried about for now.
As the sun began to set, Jiang Hai stood at the bow of the boat, gazing toward the glowing horizon with a satisfied smile.
That afternoon, they cast six more nets. Each one yielded a similar amount of fish, and by the end of the day, the boat's hold was completely full. The ice storage and fresh-frozen storage were packed tight.
While these weren't high-end luxury fish, this single day's haul was worth at least $500,000—based on wholesale prices at the port. If Jiang Hai had a retail channel, the profits could be significantly higher.
And they weren't just going to fish this one time—there were plenty of fish left in these waters.
According to Edward, they could fish every other day and haul in this much each time. They could keep going until October. That gave them roughly eight months, or 240 days. Even if only half those days were spent fishing, they'd have 120 days. Accounting for storms and downtime, maybe 90 effective fishing days.
At $500,000 a day, that meant $45 million in fish.
And that was a conservative estimate based only on redfish. Add in premium catches like grouper, salmon, giant lobster, king crab, tiger prawn, large yellow croaker, Yangtze River knifefish—and eventually, even bluefin tuna—and the figure could easily multiply.
Forty-five million? Jiang Hai smirked. Adding a zero might be more like it.
Sure, beef from his ranch might still be more lucrative pound for pound—especially Grade 5 beef—but the fishery had its own massive potential. Redfish might only fetch $10/kg at best, regardless of taste, because market prices were tied to species more than quality.
Still, Jiang Hai was content. He had spent $280 million to buy the manor, and with just one year of fishing, he was already projecting over $400 million in income. After taxes, his investment would be fully recouped in a year.
In fact, thanks to his cattle business—which had already made over a billion—he'd earned back his capital long ago. With rising profits, morale among the fishermen soared. Everyone was looking forward to their upcoming year-end bonuses, which were shaping up to be quite generous.
"Boss, we're almost in Boston," someone called out. Since Jiang Hai didn't yet have a cold storage warehouse, he planned to sell this catch immediately. The largest and most reputable local buyer was Michelson Green.
"Got it," Jiang Hai replied, standing up and heading to the hold to put on his gear. Even though he was the boss, he never hesitated to pitch in when they were short-handed.
They motored for more than an hour before reaching the port.
Upon arrival, Jiang Hai noticed there weren't many other fishing boats around. Winter fishing wasn't ideal, and Boston's nearby waters weren't as abundant.
But when Jiang Hai's boat, emblazoned with the bold Chinese characters for "Tenglong," pulled in, many people took notice.
Everyone nearby knew this boat belonged to Jiang Hai—and if there was one place where fish were still abundant, it was his waters. People watched closely, curious to see how much he had caught. Whether they had ulterior motives, no one could say.
But Jiang Hai wasn't worried. His fish weren't easy to steal. Against ordinary fishing boats, he had more than enough defenses—Dasha and Roger alone were deterrents few would dare challenge.
"Well, well, look who's here," came a voice. "Jiang Hai! Looks like your fishing grounds are officially open, huh? Here to sell today?"
It was Michelson Green, the man himself, approaching with a grin.
"You guessed right. What's the market like?" Jiang Hai asked directly. He had dealt with Green before—they weren't friends, just business associates.
"It's all posted on the board," Green replied, gesturing toward a sign listing the day's purchase prices.
Jiang Hai scanned the list:
Atlantic Cod – $1.80/kg
Herring – $1.85/kg
Sardines – $1.90/kg
Mackerel – $3.40/kg
Spanish Mackerel – $2.70/kg
Blue Mackerel – $3.10/kg
Redfish – $8.60/kg (>40cm), $6.30/kg (30–40cm)
Grouper – $20/kg
Rat Grouper – $45/kg
Giant Grouper – $20/kg
Tiger Prawn – $15/kg
Atlantic Salmon – $28/kg
Bonito – $3.60/kg
Albacore Tuna – $8.70/kg
Jiang Hai frowned. The prices seemed a bit low.
To be continued…