Zhao Zheng nodded, "Okay, I'm definitely not holding back in the last round. In hindsight, going on stage in the final session means I have no worries. If there's a bite, I'll strike without hesitation! If there's no bite, I'll reel in early!"
Zhao Ran glanced at his watch; there was only one minute left in the third session. He got up early to stretch his wrists and ankles, then strode onto the stage after hearing the substitution signal.
Yue Feng was swapped out and returned to his seat, sensing an unusual atmosphere among the team members. He frowned and glanced around, finally fixing his eyes on Wang Xiaomin.
"Xiaomin, what did you guys do while I was playing? Held a criticism rally for Wang Zhen? Why's his face all red and silent like a gourd?"
Wang Zhen pouted, "Brother Feng, I couldn't hold it in and messed up the fishing grounds! Xiaomin was right!"
