Chapter 204

After eating and drinking his fill, Zhou Yimin first returned to the siheyuan. He asked Director Ding for the address and planned to head over directly a little later.

You can’t show up at an old cadre’s house empty-handed, right?

Zhou Yimin mulled over what he should bring as a gift.

No matter which way the wind blows later, it’s always good to know a few big shots. Big shots are well-informed—if something happens, they can give you a heads-up so you’re not caught off guard.

Zhou Yimin found out that Director Ding’s father-in-law was an avid fisherman.

Looks like those predecessors who traveled back in time and ran into retired bigwigs while fishing weren’t entirely making things up. But even if the odds are there, Zhou Yimin had no interest in playing the “chance encounter” game.

What do fishing enthusiasts like?

Obviously—fishing gear!

In the future, fishing gear would be dazzlingly varied, forming a massive industrial chain. There were rods, floats, hooks, lines, sinkers, and so on.

And each type of gear came in different materials. For example, rods could be made of fiberglass, carbon, or carbon fiber, with a wide range of prices.

Different fish required different rods, lines, hooks, and floats.

Even bait came in different varieties.

That’s why there was a saying online in later years: “Three years of poverty from fishing, a lifetime ruined by birdkeeping.” But really, it wasn’t just three years—fishing gear wasn’t cheap. Some of the better rods cost thousands or even tens of thousands of yuan.

Plus, fishing was addictive. Some people would even skip work for it, and in extreme cases, abandon their wives.

Zhou Yimin thought, should he gift a rod?

The supermarket in his mind had rods for sale—not cheap either—ranging from a dozen yuan to a few hundred.

In this era, fishing rods were simple and crude. Many people still used handmade hooks and floats; sinkers were made from toothpaste tubes, and the fishing line was nylon dyed with pig’s blood…

Of course, someone like Director Ding’s father-in-law might have access to more advanced rods of the time.

After some consideration, Zhou Yimin bought a basic fishing gear set.

“Basic” in his time, but in this era, it would be considered pretty advanced.

He didn’t dare bring out anything made of carbon fiber.

Though carbon fiber composite materials were invented in the 1950s, they were first used in aerospace and military applications. They were one of the many technologies the West had embargoed from China.

It was actually a type of inorganic fiber material that could only be formed at 1000 degrees Celsius. Compared to similar materials, it was lighter, stronger, and more widely applicable.

As someone from the future, Zhou Yimin knew that China had put together a national research team and spent forty years trying to break the monopoly—without success.

Ironically, it was a little-known fishing tackle factory that accidentally cracked the problem.

That story began in the 1980s with a small factory on the verge of bankruptcy.

Chen Guangwei had been appointed as the director of a scientific equipment plant in the town that specialized in petrochemical research. What he thought was a good position turned out to be a hot potato. Sitting in the director’s office, he was stunned to discover the small plant was 760,000 yuan in debt.

Worse still, workers hadn’t been paid in six months. Anyone with even a bit of technical skill had “grabbed their buckets and run,” leaving only manual laborers behind—just 35 people, all grumbling and bitter.

No money, no manpower, no technology—the factory was a breath away from collapse.

To turn things around, Chen Guangwei had to humble himself and approach Global Fishing Gear, hoping to get subcontracting work. But even Global was just a subcontractor for Japanese firms, so being a subcontractor to a subcontractor… well, you can imagine the profits.

And yet, that struggling little factory eventually managed to produce carbon fiber.

—

In the evening, Zhou Yimin took the fishing gear set to a large compound. It was clearly a cut above the average siheyuan—one look told you this was no ordinary place.

There were even soldiers standing guard at the gate.

Zhou Yimin stepped forward to ask a couple of questions.

“Please wait here, I’ll go and—”

Before the soldier could finish, Director Ding’s voice rang out nearby.

“Xiao Liu! That’s a guest my father-in-law invited, no need to check.”

The soldier straightened up, saluted, and let him through without further delay.

“Why’d you bring something?” Director Ding spotted the box in Zhou Yimin’s hand and couldn’t help but “scold” him lightly.

“A friend gave me a fishing set,” Zhou Yimin replied with a smile. “You know I’m not much into fishing. If I kept it, it’d just gather dust. So I’m really just offering a gift in someone else’s name.”

Director Ding raised his eyebrows.

Fishing gear, huh?

Thoughtful guy.

Kid like you… if you ever become an official, you’ll probably do alright.

Inside, Zhou Yimin saw that only close family members were present: Director Ding, his wife, their two children, Director Ding’s elder brother-in-law and his family of five, and finally Director Ding’s father-in-law—Elder Zhao.

“This is Comrade Zhou Yimin,” Director Ding introduced.

Elder Zhao had a visible defect in one ear, making him easy to recognize.

“Hello, Elder Zhao!” Zhou Yimin greeted him politely.

The elderly man glanced at the box in Zhou Yimin’s hands and, much like his son-in-law earlier, gave a mild “rebuke” in the tone of an elder schooling a junior.

“Father-in-law, Yimin knows you enjoy fishing,” Director Ding stepped in to explain. “His friend happened to have a high-end set, but since Yimin doesn’t fish, he figured he’d offer it to you.”

“Oh? High-end fishing gear? Let me take a look,” Elder Zhao’s eyes lit up.

He opened the box. Inside was a sleek, finely crafted rod that looked like it was made of metal, along with line, floats, and hooks.

It was a complete set.

Holy crap.

Even for a seasoned fishing enthusiast like Elder Zhao, this setup was something else. Just the variety of hooks and floats was dazzling.

“Foreign stuff, right?” Elder Zhao couldn’t help commenting.

Zhou Yimin froze for a moment, his heart skipping a beat. Wait… this kind of rod doesn’t exist domestically yet? Seriously?

His eyes drifted to a rod standing in the room—it must’ve been Elder Zhao’s usual one.

Ah—he’d overestimated the local gear.

Elder Zhao was still using a bamboo rod. It was a sectional design that looked fancy at first glance, but it was still made of nothing more than bamboo and wood.

Typical bamboo rods were well-crafted, affordable, and easy to use—most veteran anglers loved them.

Elder Zhao’s rod was clearly a premium version with meticulous craftsmanship.

Generally, the bamboo used in a matching rod set had to be uniform in appearance. The segments had to align neatly, taper evenly from top to bottom, and be properly heat-treated.

The bamboo couldn’t be aged. The joints had to be tightly bound, lacquer evenly applied, and the connecting ends had to be long enough to prevent breakage during use.

Each section had to fit precisely, with no gaps or cracks. Once assembled, the rod needed to be straight. When under stress, it should bend smoothly into an arc.

When released, it should return to its original shape. It had to be balanced in weight, and when shaken at the base, it should show both flexibility and resilience. The overall color had to be aesthetically pleasing.

Zhou Yimin silently let out a breath of relief. Good thing he hadn’t brought a fiberglass or carbon fiber one.

That would’ve been even harder to explain.

(End of Chapter)