He carefully cleaned the remaining ice shavings and water plants off the fishing net before he began to tackle the next tricky problem.

The question was how to efficiently and safely transport this haul, weighing over forty kilograms, back to the shelter.

The fish, during the process of untangling them from the net, had thoroughly frozen and felt like stone, making a "bang bang" noise when struck.

"This is both a good and a bad thing," he thought quickly while explaining his thought process to the camera.

"The good thing is, they are no longer bleeding, the scent dispersion will be reduced, making them easier to stack. The bad thing is, they’ve become hard and slippery, making it very troublesome to carry them individually, and the total weight hasn’t changed at all."

"However, I’d thought about this problem long ago." He said to the camera, his lips slightly curving into a confident smile.

From the corner of the ice fishing shack, he dragged out something he’d used as a shelf before. It was the simple branch sled he’d made a few days ago specifically for dragging firewood.

After placing the sled on the snow, he began the loading process. He stacked the frozen red spot salmon one by one neatly onto the branch sled.

He cleverly utilized the size and shape of the fish, interlocking them and securing them so the entire stack was exceptionally stable, not easily falling apart even on a bumpy snow terrain.

Their hardness actually became an advantage at this moment, over forty fish of varying sizes quickly turned into a neatly structured silver mound on the sled.

Then, he separately took out the three largest lake trout, their bodies still retaining the final hint of softness.

Skillfully threading a piece of spare rope through under their gill covers, he firmly tied the three large lake trout together and secured them at the front of the sled.

Having accomplished this, he looked at the mess on the ice surface and spoke to the camera, "Before leaving, there’s one more important thing."

"You cannot waste this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; since the fish school has already been attracted here, I have no reason to harvest only once."

He picked up three medium-sized, already frozen red spot salmon and walked over to the large net opening he had cleared.

He swung his logging axe towards the three frozen fish, striking down forcefully.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The hard fish bodies shattered under the axe blade, with bits of flesh, entrails, and frozen blood flying everywhere.

Soon enough, these three whole fish were hacked into a pile of flesh and ice splattered debris.

Then, he kicked this heap of extravagant "supplementary bait" straight into the ice hole without hesitation.

"The effect of the scent bomb will weaken over time, but now with this, it will form a new scent center composed of actual flesh and blood."

"It will be enough to keep the fish school lingering here for at least another day. Using part of the profit to gamble on a bigger next round of returns, and the reward from this investment must far exceed the value of these three red spot salmon."

After saying this, he put the cleaned fishing net back into the water, setting it back to its original position and locking it in the same way.

Lin Yu’an looped the tow strap of the sled over his shoulder, took a deep breath, and began trudging towards the shelter.

He wore the pair of snowshoes he had crafted, with the wide mesh structure distributing his weight evenly across the snow, allowing him to walk stably.

However, while the snowshoes solved the problem of vertical sinking, they couldn’t solve the horizontal dragging resistance.

The burden weighing over eighty pounds caused the two branches used as sled rails to carve deep furrows in the thick snow.

The snow was no longer making the crisp "crunch" sound from before but instead made a dull, continuous "puff — clack —" noise as the sled was forcibly pushed through.

With each step forward, he had to lean his body forward, nearly parallel to the ground, counteracting the massive resistance from behind, maintaining rhythm and gradually moving forward step by step.

This section of the return journey was not long, yet due to the enormous burden, it seemed exceptionally lengthy.

As the familiar outline of the shelter, half-buried in snow, finally appeared in view, he let out a heavy breath in relief.

Just as he was about to reach the shelter, in the moment of slight relaxation, his sharp gaze caught a hint of abnormality.

Around twenty meters from the shelter entrance, on a stretch of open snow, a set of animal prints not belonging to him suddenly appeared there.

Lin Yu’an’s heart sank as he approached to see the tracks, his expression instantly becoming grave.

"Wolf..."

He immediately stopped in his tracks, gently placing the sled down, then discreetly drew out the sharp hunting knife from his waist with one hand, while gripping the logging axe with the other.

In an instant, he transitioned from a weary fisherman back to an alert hunter’s state.

He crouched down, carefully examining the set of footprints, which were large, with a steady stride, showing its owner was a mature male.

More importantly, there was only one set of tracks, following the same route both coming and going.

"A lone wolf." He said to the camera, his voice low and solemn.

"This is better than facing a pack of wolves, but in some sense, it’s worse. A solitary wolf is either one expelled by the pack for being old, weak, or sick."

"Or... it’s the strongest, most cunning, most daring alpha wolf. From the depth and strength of the footprint impression, I’m afraid it’s the latter."