"How did you…"
"It's simple."
Chen Qing stood and casually set his fishing rod on a stone. "The previous steward's departure was suspicious. The account books looked perfect, but they were *too* clean, reeking of forgery. As the saying goes, 'When the water is too clear, there are no fish.' Besides, I've been fishing here every day. I have a rough idea of how many fish are in this pond. Those pretty numbers in the ledger can't fool the pond, and they certainly can't fool me."
"Most importantly, the Fishery Steward is a plum position. Why would it fall to a disciple like me, who has no backing?"
He looked at the ashen-faced Zhang Wei and said slowly, "Speak. Who was this crate of fish for? Who else is behind you?"
Zhang Wei watched Chen Qing approach, and the coldness hidden beneath that calm gaze made the hairs on his arms stand on end.
'So Chen Qing's daily fishing wasn't just a leisurely pastime—it was all part of a plan!'
'He knew all along!'
