Chapter Twenty: The Collapse of the Archery Pavilion

“No need, Xu Wenshan has already won,” Lu Ze shook his head.

Beside him, Li Dazhuang glanced at his father, worry in his voice, “Father…”

“It’s luck. It must just be luck… You can’t possibly shoot better than me…” Li Sixi shook his head, his eyes filled with disbelief.

In this contest, if Xu Wenshan lost, he would only lose a wild boar. But if Li Sixi lost, it meant losing his lifelong conviction, his pride—his entire belief system.

He couldn’t give up. Even if there was only a shred of hope left to salvage his dignity, he would prove his archery was not inferior.

Xu Wenshan smiled.

What he wanted was not the wild boar, but victory—a crushing defeat!

He wanted to break the spirit of every archer in Luhe Valley!

“Very well, I’ll finish my shots,” Xu Wenshan said.

Xu Wenshan’s performance did nothing to ease Li Sixi’s humiliation. He shot his remaining three arrows, all hitting the target, one striking the bullseye for five points. His total score was eleven, leagues ahead of Li Sixi.

Lu Ze clapped for Xu Wenshan’s victory, while his own son stood dumbfounded. Xu Wenshan calmly put away his bow… The events unfolding outside could no longer reach Li Sixi’s heart. He stood rooted to the spot, recalling the first day he taught Li Dazhuang.

“Archery is a painful sport,” Li Sixi had said to Li Dazhuang, who was holding the bow for the first time. “Your fingers will ache from pinching the string, your arm will sting from the bowstring’s slap, drawing the bow repeatedly will exhaust you, and your shoulders will hurt at night.”

“The bow isn’t the consumable; people are. A person can only draw so many bows in a lifetime. Your task is to make your next draw as good as it can be.”

“If you give everything to the bow, the god of archery will favor you. So you must endure—endure the pain, endure the soreness, no matter how hard or tiring it is, you must relentlessly hone yourself.”

“Remember, every time the bowstring lashes your arm, it is the god of archery urging you on. Only through suffering can you grasp the true essence of archery. Why am I the best hunter in Luhe Valley? Because I can endure hardship, while others fear it. That’s why they can’t match me.”

“You will inherit my name in the future, so you must learn to endure, so you won’t disgrace your old man.”

Li Sixi’s earnest counsel was met by Li Dazhuang’s solemn nod.

His teachings echoed in his mind, but now Li Sixi’s heart was in turmoil.

Had he been wrong?

Was the slap of the bowstring not the god’s urging, was the ache of pinching the arrow not a trial? Was hardship not the only way to master archery? Xu Wenshan, with ease, could shoot so well?

Facts speak louder than words. The five arrows Xu Wenshan lodged in the target were the best answer for Li Sixi.

Yes, you don't need to suffer so much; I am simply this good.

Li Sixi had lost.

He had not only lost a wild boar, but also the conviction he had clung to for a lifetime, the archery he cherished most, his only sense of superiority.

Li Sixi fell to his knees. “I’ve lost…”

“So there truly is an archery that doesn’t require suffering to learn. I was wrong, everything I believed in was wrong, utterly and completely wrong.”

He knelt, shaking his head over and over.

Precisely because he loved archery and was so devoted to it, his remorse for his mistakes was all the deeper.

“If that’s the case, what meaning is left for my bow?” Li Sixi picked up his bow, placed it across his knees, and prepared to break it.

Xu Wenshan walked over, patted Li Sixi’s shoulder, and said, “This isn’t archery without hardship. I suffered plenty practicing.”

“Hm?” Li Sixi looked up, a hint of doubt in his eyes.

“When I trained, I too was struck countless times by the bowstring, my shoulders ached night after night. There is no archery in the world mastered without suffering,” Xu Wenshan said.

Lu Ze tilted her head nearby; she had never seen Xu Wenshan endure any hardship in practice.

“But look,” Xu Wenshan raised his thumb. For a moment, Li Sixi thought he was being praised, but then realized he was being shown a “ring.”

“This isn’t a ring, it’s a thumb guard, used for drawing the string. Its purpose is to prevent finger injuries. Pursuing archery certainly requires hardship, but suffering is not the goal—hitting the target is. If hardship can be avoided, it should be. If your previous method is thankless, why stubbornly cling to it?”

Xu Wenshan spoke smoothly.

Li Sixi broke out in cold sweat. It was true. His technique was hard and unrewarding, and often mocked by others. Yet he refused to concede, believing that his stubbornness made him better.

But the reason he was better was not because his method was right, but because he possessed a persistence others couldn’t match. To win, he had mistaken hardship for progress, and felt superior simply because he suffered more.

Now he realized, some hardships need not be endured, and there is nothing admirable about suffering.

Understanding this, Li Sixi felt all the more dispirited.

Xu Wenshan said, “Why not try changing your shooting style?”

“Change? I’m so old, how could I change?” Li Sixi hung his head.

“Don’t you want to pursue the pinnacle of archery?” Xu Wenshan asked. “Perhaps a change of technique can get you there. Why not try mine?”

“Your technique? You’re willing to teach me?” Li Sixi’s eyes brightened.

“You want to learn?” Xu Wenshan laughed. “I’ll teach you.”

…

Luhe Valley had its biggest news: The valley’s best archer was now learning archery from the young master of the Xu family!

How laughable! How absurd!

Even the village women who knew nothing of archery joined in mocking Li Sixi.

“Hey! Did you hear? That Li Sixi, ‘Luhe Valley’s best archer,’ is going to learn archery from the Xu family’s young master!”

“No way! Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Did you hear wrong?”

“Absolutely not!”

“Listen, listen,” a hunter said, “not long ago in the mountains, the Xu family’s young master said our shooting technique was wrong, demonstrated himself, and ended up missing the target entirely!”

“Hahaha…”

Soon enough, word spread throughout Luhe Valley that Xu Wenshan had flopped in the woods.

Everyone believed Li Sixi was currying favor with the Xu family, stooping to the lowest tricks.

No matter how Li Dazhuang argued, no one believed Li Sixi had any reason to learn archery from the young master of a landlord’s family.

Li Sixi, thick-skinned and aged, was little affected. The one most impacted was Li Dazhuang.

Every day, when Li Dazhuang set out from home to walk to Xiyuan to practice archery, the children by the fields would hurl clods of earth at him.

“Here comes the fart spirit! Here comes the fart spirit!”

“That’s not the fart spirit, that’s the fart spirit’s son!”

“Bah! A pitiful wretch crawling after money!”

A clod struck Li Dazhuang on the cheek, mud flying everywhere, leaving him filthy and disheveled.

“You little bastards!” Li Dazhuang gritted his teeth, pointing at the unruly children, rolling up his sleeves, ready to chase after them, but they scattered at once.

Li Dazhuang dropped his hands in defeat, sighed, and continued on his way.

He was different from those children; he had real business to attend to.