Jiang Hai paused, his gaze fixed on the underwater world before him. Although the underwater scenery at Jiang Hai Manor was quite beautiful, it still paled in comparison to this place. This spot, at least, could be developed into a tourist attraction and make money.
As for his own place... ha! Forget making money from tourism—he doubted anyone would visit even if it were open to the public for free, especially with a no-fishing policy. Still, no matter how grand a golden nest or silver nest may be, it can't compare to your own humble doghouse. Jiang Hai knew he needed to think of ways to enhance the underwater environment at his manor. It would likely require a significant investment of spiritual energy.
Just then, he noticed Kevin and the others resurfacing. He glanced at his watch—turns out he'd been staring underwater for about ten minutes without realizing it. Darlene and the others had returned as well.
Seeing that everyone had two large lobsters in their hands, Jiang Hai couldn't help but be surprised. Looking down, sure enough, he spotted several large lobsters crawling among the coral crevices.
Without hesitation, Jiang Hai's body tensed and he shot downward toward the reef. Though he wasn't using his maximum speed, Kevin and the others were still stunned by how fast he moved.
Even veteran fishermen couldn't match this speed, let alone these guys. If Jiang Hai ever entered the Olympics, he'd definitely walk away with a medal—probably several.
But they didn't really understand Jiang Hai. If he truly wanted, he could win far more than just a medal.
Within moments, Jiang Hai maneuvered through the coral reef, grabbing the two largest lobsters he could find before surfacing and hovering at around three meters. After a short pause—mostly to make Kevin and the others feel more at ease—he climbed back onto the boat.
By the time they got back onboard, Bell and Harriman had already prepared the crates. Everyone dropped their catch—those massive lobsters—into the containers. Watching the lobsters writhe and clack inside, Harriman couldn't help but laugh. He knew just how delicious they were going to be.
Rather than staying on the boat, Jiang Hai and the others treaded water to catch their breath, then dove back in. Catching lobsters once just wasn't enough.
Though none of them expected to make a fortune catching these crustaceans—given how cheap they were here—they still wanted to take some home. Jiang Hai, for one, planned to freeze a good batch. You needed variety in your ingredients, after all!
And so, their lobster-catching competition continued.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, in a modest wine and seafood restaurant in the Imperial Capital, a man burst into a private dining room, breathless.
"Hey, hey, everyone, sorry I'm late! I'll make it up with three drinks later!" the man said with a smile, seating himself in the only empty chair and pouring himself a drink, which he downed in one gulp.
"Brother Zhou, you're way too slow. The seafood boat's been waiting for you so long, it's going cold," one of the others teased, half-joking and half-complaining.
Brother Zhou glanced at the large platter in front of him, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He picked up his chopsticks and lightly tapped the plate with the most shellfish.
"Seafood boat" was more of a nickname. It usually referred to a large pot, tray, or boat-shaped board piled high with cooked seafood. One serving was enough for three or four people and usually cost between 300 and 500 yuan—an affordable and popular choice in the Imperial Capital. Prices varied depending on what was included.
Everyone present was a white-collar worker with an average monthly salary of seven to eight thousand yuan. After rent, utilities, internet, and transportation—plus car expenses for some—there wasn't much money left. While they weren't stingy, this seafood spread was definitely a treat.
Yet Brother Zhou didn't pick up his chopsticks.
"Nah, I'm not really in the mood. You guys go ahead," he said with a chuckle.
"What's up with you? Didn't you use to love this stuff?" someone asked, clearly puzzled.
"Well, I just got back from the U.S., right? Over there, seafood like this is practically free. It's so cheap I got tired of eating it," Brother Zhou replied casually.
"Cut the crap, Zhou Dapao. You expect us to believe that nonsense?" a friend snorted.
"Don't believe me? I'll show you the photos," Brother Zhou said smugly, already pulling out his phone. This was exactly the moment he'd been waiting for. He flicked through his album and held up the screen.
Sure enough, it was photo after photo of Brother Zhou with seafood.
There were Arctic shrimp, each as big as a palm. Thick, meaty scallops that dwarfed the ones on their table. Free oysters piled high. But the real stunner? Lobsters. Huge ones—and not just one or two.
Everyone stared. Their own "seafood boat" seemed utterly pitiful in comparison.
As the saying goes, even boats can capsize in calm water—and this seafood boat had just capsized under the weight of comparison.
"You see these big shrimp? Two dollars a pound—about four dollars a kilogram. That's just over twenty yuan, and they're all alive! Wild-caught, with firm, springy meat and rich heads. These scallops? You can pick them off the beach, or get them from an Italian restaurant for three bucks and eat as much as you want. Oysters? Free. And the crabs, the cod, the squid, the salmon... dirt cheap. Look at these sea cucumbers and abalones... insane, right?" Zhou said, grinning.
The foodies in the room swallowed hard. If what he said was true, this seafood wasn't just half the price—it was a third, or even less, compared to local prices.
"Brother Zhou, those big guys have to be way cheaper than in China, right?" someone asked, pointing to a massive lobster in one of the photos, eyes filled with envy.
"That one? That's a king lobster. Weighs 32 pounds. Not many of those around. See that guy next to it?" Zhou pointed to Jiang Hai in the picture, trying to act nonchalant but brimming with pride.
"He's the richest guy in Winthrop. Chinese, just like us. My buddy. Those lobsters, double-headed abalones, sea cucumbers—they're all from his estate. He raises cattle too. This kind of lobster? In China, you'd be lucky to eat it for 100,000 yuan. But over there, if you mention my name, you can get it for $3,000—less than 18,000 yuan—and they'll deliver it right to your hotel."
Of course, the main reason for name-dropping Jiang Hai was to elevate himself.
When they heard the price, many people were tempted. Sure, 20,000 yuan for one lobster was steep—but that lobster weighed 32 pounds. Even without the shell, there'd be over 20 pounds of meat. Enough for ten people to feast.
Just over a thousand yuan per person for such a meal? Totally worth it.
Of course, not everyone was moved—some weren't foodies. But then they saw the rest of Zhou's photos.
Beach parties, deep-sea fishing, horseback riding, shooting ranges... Their curiosity exploded.
Zhou, now the center of attention, basked in the limelight, answering questions left and right.
His designer outfit? Thousands in China, a little over a hundred yuan there. Beach visits? Free. Boat fishing? Free. Horseback riding? Dirt cheap. But the real kicker—guns.
What man doesn't love firearms?
In the U.S., you could shoot to your heart's content. No entrance fee for the shooting range, just pay for bullets. Rifles, pistols, shotguns, submachine guns, machine guns, sniper rifles—you name it, you could fire it.
And all of that fun for just over $100 a day.
Looking through the photos, everyone forgot all about the seafood boat in front of them. After learning that a round-trip, including flights, lodging, and expenses, only cost around 8,000 yuan per person, they were stunned.
It was outrageously cheap!
(To be continued.)