The Dragon King Insists That I Raise Him Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Chapter 2 White, Pinkish, Hehe~……

Tao Qingguan felt like he was done for. He squatted by the stream, contemplating the possibility of catching fish barehanded. Setting aside the fact that his fishing skills were practically zero, the depth of this stream wasn’t exactly suitable for him to go down and court death.

Although he had always wanted to go to the Flower and Bird Market to get a new one, Tao Qingguan still had some basic human decency. He decided to struggle a bit more.

Tao Qingguan snuck back to the Ancestral Home. He ran into a room piled with junk and rummaged through a heap of miscellaneous items.

He remembered his grandfather taking him fishing when he was little; there should be a Fishing Net at home for catching fish. However, after so many years, Tao Qingguan wasn’t sure where it was.

He pushed aside the clutter on top, and the long-accumulated dust billowed everywhere. Tao Qingguan choked and coughed a couple of times. He raised a hand to wave in front of his eyes, sweeping away the dust that flew toward him, and bent over to crawl further in.

Just then, a long bamboo pole caught Tao Qingguan’s eye. His eyes lit up, and he reached out to pull the pole out from the back.

With a clatter, the bamboo pole finally saw daylight. Tao Qingguan looked at the small iron bucket tied to the pole and felt something was slightly off, but worried the fish would escape, he didn’t think too much about it and rushed out carrying the pole.

Once the iron bucket was submerged in the stream water, the familiar resistance sensation reached him, and Tao Qingguan finally realized what was wrong.

What he was holding wasn’t a fishing net; it was the Iron Scoop previously used for digging the Manure Field for fertilizer.

Tao Qingguan: “…”

It’s about the same… right?

Anyway, it hadn’t been used for so many years, and there were no strange substances on it; it looked quite clean.

Tao Qingguan weighed the bamboo pole—it wasn’t heavy, but the iron bucket was a bit small, which really tested his fishing skills.

He stared intently at the small fish in the stream and stabbed down with the pole with lightning speed. Water splashed high, his strike was fast, accurate, and fierce, but the result was—an empty catch.

Watching the fish swim leisurely to the opposite bank, completely unaffected, Tao Qingguan snorted. He didn’t believe he couldn’t catch a mere palm-sized fish.

Tao Qingguan raised the bamboo pole and quietly approached the fish’s location. This pole was quite long, even longer than the stream was wide. Tao Qingguan felt the probability of catching the fish was quite high.

When the iron bucket sank into the water, Tao Qingguan held his breath and slowly moved the bucket forward. He slowed down his movements. Just as the bucket was about to reach the fish, he suddenly exerted force. Again, water splashed everywhere, and he pulled up nothing.

The sliver of competitive spirit in Tao Qingguan’s heart was ignited, and he was now locked in a battle with the fish in the water.

He stepped on the stones by the stream bank, changed to an angle he thought was more reliable, sneakily raised the bamboo pole in his hand, waited for the right moment, and struck quickly.

Empty!

Empty!

Still empty!

Tao Qingguan was sweating profusely. His cotton undershirt clung to his body, revealing faint outlines of his physique. The cicadas chirped incessantly nearby, making him irritable. He raised a hand and wiped his face randomly, two bright red patches blooming on his cheeks.

No, if he stayed any longer, he would get heatstroke.

Tao Qingguan let out a long sigh, looking at the fish swimming leisurely in the water, his eyes full of resentment. Had this fish become a spirit? Why was it so hard to catch?

One last time. If he couldn’t catch it this time, maybe next time.

Tao Qingguan’s arm holding the bamboo pole was a bit sore, and his arm felt stiff. He shook his hand and submerged the iron bucket again. When the angle was right, he yanked it up swiftly.

He looked into the iron bucket with little interest—empty again… Wait!

There was a fish this time!

Tao Qingguan instantly perked up. He placed the iron bucket on the ground and leaned over to look. A fish was swimming in the bucket, also palm-sized, but its color was slightly off.

The one he threw in was pure white, its tail even slightly transparent. This one, while white, had a black back. The difference was obvious; at least at a glance, there was no mistaking them.

It seemed, perhaps, he had caught the wrong fish…

Tao Qingguan refused to believe it. He quickly moved back to the stream bank. Right next to where he had scooped the fish in the bucket, a small silver-white fish lay quietly. A round bubble was expelled from its mouth, bursting abruptly as it neared the water surface.

At this moment, silence spoke louder than words.

Tao Qingguan clenched his back teeth and glared at the complacent little fish.

#$%&… Tonight, it’s Braised Fish.

Tao Qingguan was angry. He didn’t want to leave but felt unwilling to give up. He picked up the bamboo pole nearby, preparing to fight again, but then he heard a crisp snap. He froze, turned his head, and saw that only half a bamboo pole remained in his hand.

The bamboo pole, having endured the Manure Field for so long, had finally suffered Battle Damage.

Now it was great. He hadn’t caught a fish, and he’d lost a bamboo pole too—a double loss.

Tao Qingguan was depressed. His tool for catching fish was gone; he couldn’t continue even if he wanted to. He rested one hand on his chin, sweat dripping from his hairline, splashing onto his eyelashes and blurring his vision. He reached up to rub his eyes.

The sweat rubbed into his eyes, causing a stinging sensation that brought forth physiological tears. He rubbed a few more times. When he let go, his eyes were red all around, looking pitiful, as if he had been crying.

Tao Qingguan didn’t pay attention. He rubbed his burning cheeks and decided to head back. Just as he stood up, the small fish in the middle of the stream suddenly darted over. Tao Qingguan stopped moving.

The distance between him and the fish was now less than half a meter. He could reach it with one hand.

Tao Qingguan and the fish stared at each other, frozen in place for a long moment. He tentatively extended both hands, gently placing them under the fish. Seeing that the fish showed no sign of escaping, he quietly brought his hands together, trapping the fish in his palms.

The fish tail brushed against his palm, causing a slight tickle. Tao Qingguan blinked, unable to believe that after struggling for most of the day, he had caught the fish so easily in the end.

He stood up holding the fish, cupping half a handful of water in his palm. Although he held his hands tightly, some water still leaked through his fingers. Tao Qingguan turned around, intending to put the fish into the iron bucket, but just as he bent his waist slightly, the fish in his hand suddenly thrashed, splashing water onto Tao Qingguan’s face.

Tao Qingguan assumed the fish was uncomfortable and continued to place it in the bucket. The next second, he was splashed in the face again, and the fish in his hand even jumped to the edge of his fingertips, one step away from leaping back into the stream and regaining its freedom.

He quickly tried to pull the fish back, but his foot slipped. The stones by the stream bank were already slippery, and he landed hard on his backside. The fish fell onto his abdomen, completely soaking the front of his clothes.

Tao Qingguan gasped in pain, hissing a few times before recovering. He touched his tailbone. Based on his experience, it probably wasn’t broken, but his backside would be bruised for a few days.

He looked down at the fish. The one that had been struggling moments ago was now calm. At this height, with him as a cushion, it was probably fine. He poked the fish’s belly irritably, muttering, “You’re the only one who knows how to cause trouble.”

Tao Qingguan picked up the fish and raised his hand to put it in the bucket beside him, but the fish wriggled again and fell back onto him.

Looking at the fish on his clothes, Tao Qingguan’s expression became somewhat strange. He tentatively moved the fish toward the edge of the bucket, but the fish jumped back as if something was chasing it.

“Huh? You’re getting picky now.”

Tao Qingguan chuckled and stood up, scooping some more water from the stream bank. He held the fish in one hand and the bucket and pole in the other, walking back quickly. His clear voice carried a hint of a smile, “I won’t make things hard for you, just don’t dry yourself to death.”

He walked back to the main hall. The Fish Tank was empty of water. He looked around and finally rushed to put the fish into the Mug he used for drinking.

The little fish landed back in the water and shook its tail as if nothing had happened. The brief lack of water hadn’t affected it.

The breath Tao Qingguan had been holding finally escaped. He playfully shook the mug and said, “You should be glad I didn’t pour Coke in.”

Coke chicken wings were delicious; Coke fish might taste good too.

The fish couldn’t understand. It turned its head in the opposite direction.

Tao Qingguan didn’t know the fish’s intelligence level, but it seemed quite smart. He made a couple of slurping sounds to try and attract the little fish’s attention, muttering, “No becoming a spirit after the founding of the nation.”

Fish: “…”

Tao Qingguan teased it for a while, but the little fish didn’t react anymore. He felt a bit bored and straightened up to attend to other things.

He checked his Memo, planning to fill the Fish Tank with water first. This water had to be Spring Water from the back mountain. The back mountain was just a small hillock, and the source of the spring water wasn’t far from the back door of the Ancestral Home. Tao Qingguan spent half an hour filling the Fish Tank. Changing it every three days meant he could slack off for the next three days.

Tao Qingguan stretched his arms. With today’s amount of labor, his arms would probably ache tomorrow, and his backside was still hurting. It was injury on top of injury.

He was supposed to be resting and vacationing in the countryside, but this was more tiring than working.

Tao Qingguan collapsed onto the sofa with a look of utter despair, losing all worldly desires. He stared blankly ahead, contemplating whether coming back had been the right decision. Just then, his stomach let out a loud rumble that echoed in the empty hall.

So hungry.

Tao Qingguan looked at the clock on the wall—it was four-thirty. He hadn’t eaten lunch yet; any later would be dinner time.

Sigh.

Finally, the desire for food overcame his urge to laze around. Tao Qingguan reluctantly got up, grabbed his phone, and decided to order takeout; he really didn’t have the energy to cook.

He changed the location setting to his current address, and an empty interface appeared before him. Tao Qingguan frowned, grumbling inwardly, “What terrible network, it takes forever to load a single store.”

He exited and re-entered, trying several times, but no stores appeared. Tao Qingguan’s frown deepened. He held his phone up, trying to strengthen his bond with the 5G network. Seeing the signal bars max out, the interface still showed no stores, and Tao Qingguan’s heart sank halfway.

No way, it can’t be, don’t do this.

Tao Qingguan switched out of the interface and opened Short Video. It loaded instantly, smooth as silk, without the slightest stutter. Looking at the mouth-watering food in the videos, Tao Qingguan’s expression grew colder.

He should have realized it—this godforsaken place wasn’t even within the delivery range for takeout.

Tao Qingguan leaned back, clasping his hands over his lower abdomen, and quietly closed his eyes.

Tired, let it all go.

Tao Qingguan wanted to sleep forever, but his rumbling stomach rebelliously demanded attention. Moreover, his clothes had gotten wet and then dry today, and they didn’t smell very good. Even without mysophobia, Tao Qingguan was somewhat disgusted with himself.

He let out a long sigh and dragged his exhausted body up.

Since he was alone in the house, Tao Qingguan naturally took off his shirt, exposing his fair skin to the air.

He was slender, his shoulder blades clearly visible on his back, like a butterfly about to take flight. His flat abdomen had no excess fat; upon closer inspection, the outline of abs could be discerned.

His body was white, with two pinkish spots.

The little fish at the bottom of the Fish Tank stiffened briefly, then quickly turned around and faced the wall in contemplation.