Xu Qing was wearing a conical hat, holding a fishing rod, and sitting on a stool beside the fish pond, looking contented.
If you put on a straw raincoat, you can perfectly impersonate an ancient person.
There is an old saying that goes "Fishing Alone in the Cold River in the Snow." Unfortunately, it's only August now, and it's still too early for it to snow.
Wan Chongyang squatted at Xu Qing's feet and watched several fish jumping up and down in a basin. His little naughty hands kept wanting to touch the fish in the basin.
"Uncle Xu, how many fish are there in this fish pond?" Wan Feng also squatted beside Xu Qing, looking at the shaking fish float in the fish pond.
It is around 5:30 in the afternoon, the time when fish come out to look for food. From time to time, fish jump out of the water and show their heads above the water.
"Releasing five thousand doesn't mean much."
The fish in Xu Qing's fish pond are grass carp and crucian carp. Thousands of fish are really not that interesting. Even if one fish grows to two kilograms, these thousands of fish will only weigh about 18,000 kilograms.
Fish costs one yuan and thirty to forty cents per pound, and can be sold for eighteen thousand yuan. After deducting the cost and labor, Xu Qing can only make four to five thousand yuan a year at most.
Xu Qing is around sixty years old this year. At his age, making four to five thousand a year is actually not bad.
This income level is relatively low in Jiangwei, but if you move to the northern mountainous area of Hongya, the income will be considerable.
"These fish can earn more than 5,000 yuan a year."
"Then why don't you change your business model?" Wan Feng suggested.
Xu Qing was puzzled: "Change the business model? How?"
"You open the fish pond to people and let them fish freely. Please note that they can only use fishing rods and not nets."
"Then I'm like Lei Feng, aren't I?"
"Haha! You're quite humorous. You charge! You charge by the hour."
"Charge by the hour? How do you charge?"
"Just charge a certain amount per hour. The fish people catch belong to them and they can take them away. You only charge for the fishing space, for example, two dollars per hour. If someone fishes here all day, you can charge a discount of twenty dollars."
Fishing is addictive. Some people sit by the river and fish all day long.
Compared with one hundred yuan a day in later generations, twenty yuan an hour now is not cheap.
Xu Qing still didn't understand.
"You can do the math. If an average of ten people come fishing every day, and each person works all day, you'll make 200 yuan a day, and 6,000 yuan a month. Even if people only come fishing for two months a year, it's still better than selling fish in the fall, right? You don't have to pump the water to catch fish, and all you have to do is stock the pond with fry when the season comes."
Xu Qing finally understood: "Will this work?"
"You'll know if it works if you try it out. As long as there are enough fish in your pond and these people can catch them, why worry about not having customers? Haven't you seen the Inna River full of people fishing?"
"The Inna River doesn't cost a penny."
"Haha! Then they have to catch fish too."
In his previous life, Innahe Wanfeng went fishing twice when he lived in Xiaoshu Village, in the deep water area upstream of the rubber dam.
You see there are a lot of fish biting the hook, but you can’t catch them. It’s because the young fish are causing trouble.
I didn't catch many fish during the two fishing trips.
I haven't gone fishing since then.
"Listen to my demonstration and see what I'm saying. If some people think twenty dollars a day is too much or they don't fish for long, you can charge them two dollars an hour. It doesn't matter how long they fish. If it's an hour, you charge them an hour's price."
Anyway, Wan Feng had given him the idea, and it was none of Wan Feng's business whether he did it or not.
Wan Feng pulled up his son who was always trying to use his little hands to touch the fish in the basin and said, "You won't put your claws in when they bite your hands. It's time to go home for dinner, Brother You! Let's go."
After stuffing his son into the car, Wan Feng still held his daughter in one hand and drove the car home. He dropped You Shuiping off at the door of her house and then returned home.
The event that Wan Feng was worried about finally happened.
"I didn't expect reading to be so interesting. No wonder some people read every day. I want to read every day in the future."
Why did these words, coming from Luan Feng's mouth, sound like the end of the world? Was the Earth about to change its direction of revolution, and the sun about to rise from the west?
Is this guy addicted to looking at his own so-called soldier king?
Someone's heart skipped a beat.
Someone's prediction was confirmed. Comrade Luan Daxie, who couldn't open his eyes when reading, actually became addicted to it!
After dinner, Zhang Xuan coaxed Wan Yu to sleep and then she gave someone a flirtatious look.
Luan Feng also had a gentle and affectionate look.
Someone has a bad feeling.
"Let me make it clear first, you two can forget about making dumplings. I'm old now, not young anymore..."
"Bah! You're old at thirty? Are you still a man?"
"If you promise to write another chapter tonight, we won't make things difficult for you." Zhang Xuan was as gentle as a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Wan Feng now regrets writing a book. Isn't that like looking for something worth trying to get something for nothing?
If I continue writing, I will have written 6,000 words. Why should I work so hard?
"I can't write anymore. Can I write tomorrow? I promise to write one chapter a day."
"Only one chapter? How long do you have to finish it?"
Wan Feng rolled his eyes and slapped Luan Feng in the face: "You two just look up, open your little mouths and talk, it's so easy. Come on! Write a chapter for me. If you can write one chapter, I will write two chapters tonight."
Luan Feng definitely didn't dare to accept the challenge. When Wan Feng was in Longjiang, this guy wrote a 200-word letter with more than 90 typos.
If a writer with this level of skill is to be criticized to death, he will be killed.
Zhang Xuan does have some ideas and has the level to do so, but for someone like her who has not been baptized by online literature, she can write a Wanfeng letter of 1,000 words a day, but it is impossible for her to type out a chapter of 2,000 words in two hours.
Zhang Xuan really wanted to give it a try, so she asked Wan Feng if he could write a love story.
"Can you write long? Online literature is usually very long. If you want to write 30,000 or 20,000 words, forget it. It won't even be enough for a public chapter."
“But how can I write long?”
"That's nonsense! For example, if you want to tell a story about two young men and women getting together, you can't just write about them falling in love at first sight and getting married. That's so boring. You have to create contradictions and conflicts, like family disapproval, lack of house or money, a third party getting involved, or some kind of misunderstanding. Ideally, have the woman jump into a river or the man hang himself. Of course, they can't die, because that's the end of it. If that's not possible, just have the man or woman become a vegetable for a few months."
Wasn’t that how TV dramas were played in the previous life?
Zhang Xuan and Luan Feng were both stunned.
Is there such a thing?
"Well, do you understand? Study hard and don't look down on online literature. There's a lot to learn here. Okay, you two go figure it out. I'm going to bed."
Wan Feng yawned, went to bed and hugged his daughter to sleep.
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