Volume 1, Chapter 4: Harvesting Two Buckets of King Clams

Beachcombing is one of those things that is as difficult or as easy as you make it out to be; luck is the most important factor, followed by the ability to track the signs left by marine life. Holes in the sand and the faint trails left by creatures crawling across the surface are all telltale signs.

Ye Cheng found a hole and crouched down. He took out the shovel provided by his system and scraped it horizontally across the opening. As the top layer of dirt was cleared away, fine sand was revealed, and the small hole widened slightly. A bubble emerged and popped with a faint sound.

"There's something down there," Ye Cheng thought, his spirits instantly lifting.

He scraped away another two layers of sand. Before he could even dig, he felt the shovel hit a hard object. He reached down and pulled out a shell. It was yellowish-brown with irregular elongated patterns—it was a butter clam. It looked somewhat like the common Manila clams he remembered from his past life, but it was three times the size, easily half the width of his palm.

Manila clams were among the cheapest seafood on the market. Ye Cheng recalled that at night markets, a stir-fried plate would only cost a dozen yuan or so, not to mention the ubiquitous foil-wrapped clams sold everywhere. They were tasty, cheap, and sold in massive quantities. However, these bivalves were categorized into different tiers. The cheapest were sand clams, costing only a few yuan per jin, which were the standard for night market stalls. Then came the Manila clams, which sold for twenty to thirty yuan a jin. The most expensive were the butter clams—the "kings" of the clam world—starting at forty yuan for smaller ones, with larger specimens fetching over a hundred.

The one in his hand was undeniably a "king." Ye Cheng watched as the butter clam, seemingly terrified, spat out a jet of water and snapped its shell shut, refusing to peek out again. Ye Cheng tossed it into his bucket; there was no chance of this one escaping.

True enough, having the system’s blessing made a difference; he had landed a king on his very first dig. At that moment, his system points increased by 10, bringing his total to 12. It seemed the system recognized a quality catch when it saw one.

Encouraged by this success, Ye Cheng searched a bit more and found another small hole. He repeated the process—scrape, then dig—and sure enough, he felt movement. He happily reached in and pulled out another butter clam, this one even larger than the first. It was a genuine prize. Around the spot where he was crouching, there were seven or eight holes; he managed to extract five large butter clams, while the others turned out to be empty.

Little Hu walked over, glanced at Ye Cheng’s bucket, and exclaimed in surprise, "Brother, so many butter clams!"

"Well, obviously. You didn't think your brother would fail, did you?"

"Brother, let me try too!"

Seeing the haul, Little Hu felt inspired. He began frantically digging at several holes, but they were empty, save for a tiny, insignificant clam.

"Damn it, why? Why don't I have any butter clams?" Little Hu’s enthusiasm vanished as quickly as it had arrived when he looked at the pathetic little clam in his hand.

"Keep going, don't give up. You can do it," Ye Cheng encouraged him before moving to a new spot to dig.

Essentially, he was pulling five or six butter clams for every ten holes he checked. In just half an hour, he had filled nearly half a bucket. Nearby, Little Hu finally had some luck, digging up his first butter clam, though it was significantly smaller than Ye Cheng's.

This was Ye Cheng’s first time beachcombing, and the constant crouching was starting to take its toll. He stopped and tossed his shovel to Little Hu. "Here, use this one. Mine has been blessed."

Little Hu took it seriously, grabbing the shovel eagerly. "Brother, I knew there was something special about this tool! So it was blessed—no wonder you’ve been finding so much."

With that, the kid charged back onto the sand like a man possessed. He started "plowing" the beach; he had the strength of an ox and was literally tearing up the sand, digging wildly at every hole he saw, leaving the beach in a chaotic mess. Ye Cheng watched him, speechless. *Why weren't you born a bull?*

According to the system, if the tools provided by it granted a luck bonus, it should work for Little Hu too. However, the results proved otherwise. Little Hu turned over half the beach and only found a few worthless, tiny clams.

"Brother, you lied! It’s not blessed at all, it’s useless!" Little Hu plopped down beside Ye Cheng, panting heavily.

Ye Cheng sighed and took back the shovel. It seemed the system was quite strict—it wanted him to do the work himself. "Take a break, I'll go get some more."

"Brother, don't bother. I’ve dug up this whole area; there’s nothing left," Little Hu said, gulping down water.

"If you dig like that, of course you won't find anything. You have to be careful."

Despite saying that, Ye Cheng moved to a different area, walking further out. He was familiar with the process now, scraping the sand with his small shovel before digging. Before Little Hu could even light a cigarette, he saw Ye Cheng pull out several more butter clams.

"Brother, are you cheating?" Little Hu asked, his mouth agape in disbelief.

"Cheating, my foot. It’s called skill. Do you understand? Skill!"

Enjoying the power of the system, Ye Cheng couldn't help but feel smug. He finally understood why anglers didn't mind the harsh conditions—they lived for the thrill of the harvest, that singular moment of pulling the fish from the water. He felt the same way now. Looking at the growing pile of butter clams in his bucket, setting aside the monetary value, the joy of a bountiful harvest was irreplaceable.

The two of them spent over three hours on the beach until Ye Cheng’s hands were numb and he couldn't take it anymore. His legs, unaccustomed to such exercise, were killing him after three hours of squatting—it was definitely more effective than a gym workout. And the sun overhead—it had provided more than enough Vitamin D for the day.

Ye Cheng stopped and took a look; his bucket was full, and Little Hu’s was more than half full. A great haul. However, he noticed something: over the three hours, the vast majority of the harvest came from the first two, and in the last hour, no matter how he dug, he caught almost nothing.

He checked his system: *Luck: 60?*

Does this luck stat relate to the yield? Does it stop giving rewards once a certain limit is reached? *Big brother, that’s not luck—that’s a traffic cap.* He would have to study this in detail when he got back.

Still, not bad. His points had risen to 20. He checked the system interface, but it still hadn't unlocked. He would just have to wait.

"Little Hu, that’s enough. Time to head back." Ye Cheng looked at the sky; the sun was sinking, and the warm sea breeze now carried a hint of chill.

Little Hu, despite looking a bit exhausted, remained full of energy. "Brother, can we do a little more? My bucket isn't full yet."