Chapter 27: The Heir’s Arrogance Meets the Hunter’s Hidden Skill

“You may already know, I’ll be drawing lots and competing alongside you,” said Xu Wenshan. “There’s no hidden agenda here. This competition is your chance to challenge me. If you don’t succeed, the five strings of cash will be left in trust, and next year, when the contest is held again, the prize will double to ten.”

If not for the presence of their patron, the very roof of the straw shelter would have been torn off by the uproar.

Challenge you? What a joke!

Is some landlord’s pampered son really worth our challenge?

Still, some couldn’t help but mutter in low voices:

“That Xu family’s young master must be mad.”

“I think so too. He’s a bit too full of himself, isn’t he?”

“You don’t get it. All the landlord’s sons are like this. Their servants always let them win, so he thinks he’s really something.”

“I wish the heavens would toss him and me into the wild somewhere—I could strangle him barehanded!”

“He’s too arrogant! We’re seasoned hunters with decades of experience, and he’s just a green boy. How can he possibly compare?”

“Doesn’t know his limits!”

Just then, sudden laughter rang out.

“Hahahahaha…”

Old Tiger Lei laughed, a laugh that was thorough, hard-edged, and furious.

“We? Challenge you?” he grinned. “You must be joking.”

“I was shooting arrows before you were even born. Why should we challenge you?”

The tension in the shelter grew thick. None of the other hunters dared make a sound.

But Xu Wenshan didn’t get angry.

“Whether I’m worth your challenge or not, you’ll know after we compete,” he replied.

“Hmph.” Old Tiger Lei sneered.

Afa entered, announcing, “Let’s begin the drawing of lots. Those who draw ‘one’ are in the first group, and so on.”

The crowd surged forward, jostling to draw, while Li Dazhuang stood rooted, dazed.

“So this counts as challenging the Xu family’s young master?”

“Tsk, not the best luck,” Wu Yi muttered under his breath.

He had drawn a ‘one’, meaning he’d be in the first group by the rules.

That meant he wouldn’t be able to observe his opponents’ strengths before his turn.

“Still, maybe it’s for the best. With my skill, once my score is announced, I might scare off a few of the weaker ones.”

The moment he stepped onto the archery platform, the pressure truly settled on him.

“That target’s so far away!” Wu Yi whispered, eyeing the tiny, grasshopper-sized mark in the distance. “Hitting it won’t be easy.”

Glancing at the other competitors, he saw the same uncertainty in their faces—they weren’t confident about the distance either.

Just then, Afa, standing to one side, seemed to remember something. “Oh, I nearly forgot to explain the scoring.”

The archers all scowled, cursing Afa silently for not mentioning it sooner—no wonder they’d been so tense.

“The scoring must be easier, right?” they thought. “No one can be very accurate from this far.”

Afa cleared his throat. “As you can see, the target is marked with several rings, with a red bullseye at the center.”

“Hitting the outermost ring scores one point, the next ring two, and so on. The bullseye scores ten. At the end, the four highest scorers advance to the finals. That’s it—you may begin.”

The ten archers on the platform were stunned.

Hitting the bullseye? Most of them could barely see the rings, let alone aim for the center!

While the others hesitated, Wu Yi picked up an arrow, nocked it, and drew his bow with practiced ease.

When faced with a difficult target, he had only one approach: Shoot!

That’s how he’d gotten through life all these years.

As a boy, he’d gone hunting in the mountains with his father, encountered a leopard, and watched as his father’s leg was torn by the beast. Wu Yi drew his bow and killed the leopard himself.

His father’s wound festered, and he eventually died. When bullies came to harass his widowed mother, Wu Yi didn’t hesitate—he drew his bow and shot.

Once an arrow leaves the string, it never returns. That was Wu Yi’s creed.

For the sake of winning those five strings of cash, he was willing to marry into the Niu family and move to Luhe Valley. Shoot first, aim later—there’s no turning back once the bow is drawn. That was his way. After the contest, he’d settle down with the Niu girl, no matter how dark or plain her looks.

Swish!

The arrow struck the target, but not the bullseye; from this distance, it was impossible to tell what score he’d made.

Wu Yi didn’t hesitate, rapidly loosing arrow after arrow.

No matter the points, so long as he hit the target!

Outside the range, a woman was shouting, “Wu Yi! Give it your all! If you win the five strings, we’ll finally turn things around! Don’t let me down!”

Someone whispered, “Who’s that woman?”

“Must be the Niu family’s daughter-in-law. She married Wu Yi for that prize money.”

Everyone understood—no wonder she’d go to such lengths for five strings of cash; she was certainly a character.

Swish, swish, swish!

The sound of arrows leaving the string echoed as the archers unleashed their shots.

When the twang of bowstrings finally faded, Afa spoke up:

“Now for the scoring. Platform one: three points!”

The crowd erupted.

What did three points mean? Out of ten arrows, only three had even hit the target.

Everyone glanced at the man on platform one—a veteran hunter whose face now cycled through a rainbow of embarrassment.

In truth, he’d only hit the target once, scoring three points.

He was shocked by his own result. At over fifty, his eyes weren’t as sharp as they used to be; he could still shoot game at close range, but the distant target was beyond him.

“Platform two: eight points!”

A bit better, but still unimpressive.

“Platform three: fourteen points!”

“Platform four: eleven points!”

…

Wu Yi was nervous.

He was confident his score would be better than the previous ones—he’d landed seven arrows, and one seemed quite close to the bullseye.

“Platform eight: forty points!”

At that, the crowd gasped in astonishment.

Spectators inside the range craned their necks to see who was on platform eight. Spectators outside clung to the fence, eager for a glimpse.

“It’s Wu Yi! Wu Yi! My God, our Wu Yi! He scored forty!” The Niu family’s woman shrieked, fainting dead away. When people rushed to help her, she revived and screamed again.

Wu Yi breathed a sigh of relief—this score would surely put him in the finals.

The next highest score was twenty; his was forty, double the second place.

Still, Wu Yi frowned, remaining silent. The contest was tougher than he had expected. He knew he’d have to adapt quickly to the rules to win the finals.

“First group, return to the rest area and do not wander. Second group, prepare!”

“Go get ’em, Fortune!” In the VIP seats, Guo Xin stood up and pumped his fist; his son, Guo Decai, was in the second group.

Guo Decai glanced back at his father, then hung his head, wearing a rather odd expression.

“I really shouldn’t have tried to show off—how am I supposed to compete in such a difficult contest?”