Chapter 264.1: Hello Chang'an
Chapter 264.1: That is His Highness’s Marksmanship
The arrows used by the competitors were identical, except for the fletching: one set remained the original white, while the other was dyed red for distinction.
The red arrows were Chang Suining’s choice—she picked them deliberately, hoping for a bit of luck on New Year’s Eve.
Everyone’s gaze followed the officer counting the arrows, scanning the row of fifty targets, trying to keep track. Soon, murmurs and exclamations of surprise rippled through the crowd.
“Hooray! Xiao Ah Li won!” Ah Dian raised both arms, cheering loudly.
A nearby instructor frowned: “They haven’t finished counting yet!”
—And here he was shouting nonsense!
He didn’t dare voice the latter part of his thought because of Ah Dian’s status. Even the first half, however, betrayed his agitation. If the outcome were obvious, he wouldn’t bother correcting a mentally unsteady child—let him shout all he wanted.
But since the targets made it difficult to discern a clear winner at a glance, the premature cheer unsettled and annoyed them.
On all fifty targets, two arrows were embedded—one white, one red—indicating that neither competitor had missed.
Looking closely, most arrows were tightly grouped; no target had arrows placed far apart.
And it was precisely in the rare cases where spacing differed that the winner could be determined…
After several checks, the officer overseeing the match announced loudly: “Instructor Fang hit the bullseye forty-seven times!”
Forty-seven!
The crowd buzzed with commentary.
The junior instructors who hadn’t managed to get to the front breathed a sigh of relief, speaking in tones of expectation: “I knew it—once Instructor Fang takes aim, he won’t miss!”
This match followed the strict standards used in senior instructor evaluations.
In ordinary shooting, Instructor Fang could reportedly hit all fifty targets. Even in mounted archery with obstacles, he rarely scored below forty-seven, missing no more than three.
Moreover, this was a nighttime match, which should have affected visibility—yet he hadn’t failed once. Truly formidable.
“Good,” Chang Kuo stroked his bristly beard, nodding appreciatively. “Observing the white arrows, nearly every shot pierced the bullseye. Instructor Fang’s arm strength is extraordinary.”
Hearing this praise, soldiers behind him whispered: “General Chang is indeed fair and generous…”
Though the victor was not his daughter, he did not hesitate to commend her opponent.
Fang, however, responded differently, bowing slightly: “General Chang overpraises me.”
Normally, such praise would be a coveted honor—but not this time.
He glanced at the targets once more. As the white arrows were removed, only the red arrows remained, now looking even more orderly and striking.
The instructors in front exchanged uneasy glances.
“Lady Chang hit all fifty targets!” the officer announced loudly.
—Fifty?
—Every single arrow hit the bullseye?!
The crowd erupted in astonishment.
“Truly?”
“How is that possible?!”
Soldiers pushed forward to get a better look.
At this point, victory or defeat didn’t matter; they wanted to see what fifty perfect bullseyes looked like!
Instructor Zhu’s face went pale—he couldn’t believe it either.
Fang had not missed, yet even so, he had still lost. The impossibility of the situation was staggering; no excuse could account for it.
“The first match, first round of mounted archery—Lady Chang wins!” the officer announced.
Fang’s face tightened, silent.
Under obstacle conditions and a strict time limit, missing was normal, let alone hitting every bullseye.
He had never before seen anyone strike fifty targets dead center.
This was a prodigy among prodigies, honed by diligent practice.
Losing to fifty arrows was not shameful.
But losing to a little girl…
“Xiao Ah Li won! We won! We won! Nyah nyah nyah…” Ah Dian made faces at the instructor who had scolded him earlier.
The instructor’s expression was priceless, his fists clenching.
Curiosity and skepticism stirred among the crowd. Under Chang Kuo’s direction, the officer had all fifty targets moved to an open area for everyone to view.
Many spectators hurried forward, while the next part of the match continued.
Soldiers brought forward weapon racks, holding two swords and two spears. The swords were the standard cross-blades of the Da Sheng army, and the spears were ordinary white-shafted, red-tasseled long spears.
Swords first, then spears.
The instructors composed themselves and watched intently.
Mounted archery was only one component of the first match. If Fang could win the sword and spear contests, he would not have lost the first match overall.
But that was yet to be determined.
While archery tested personal skill without interference, the following close-quarters events would magnify the differences in size and strength between the two. Fang’s advantage still lay ahead.
Both competitors picked up their weapons. Fang eyed the girl, still calm, and warned in a coarse voice: “Swords and spears have no mercy, Chang Suining. Be careful.”
Chang Suining saluted with her sword: “Understood.”
They faced each other, stepping back slightly.
The drumbeat sounded again.
Fang advanced with a commanding force, his sword striking with overwhelming power.
Chang Suining did not move or evade. She lifted her sword to block, and his force drove her backward five or six steps, kicking up sand and pebbles.
Using this as momentum, she sidestepped to redirect his attack.
Fang struck again; Chang Suining still did not retreat. This time she angled her blade to collide with his horizontally. A humming clang rang out as their swords clashed, firelight dancing across the blades, sparks flying—reflected in her eyes.
The crowd held its breath. Yuan Xiang, half-hidden behind Ah Dian, bit his lip nervously.
Even he had never felt this tense in battle!
Fang’s strikes were fierce; a single lapse could have resulted in disaster. Chang Suining, for the moment, seemed on the defensive.
It appeared that Fang controlled the offense while she blocked; the advantage seemed his.
Xiao Min noticed the situation and looked at Chang Kuo: “General Chang…”
But Chang Kuo, ever the father, reassured him: “No need to rush. It will be over soon.”
Xiao Min’s heart raced—what kind of “over” did he mean?
The atmosphere was taut.
When Chang Suining was last pushed back a few steps, she glanced at the nick in her blade, then at the relentless Fang advancing toward her. She said: “It’s my turn.”
Fang furrowed his brow. Before he could react, he attacked again.
This time, he lowered his sword, aiming at her midsection.
Like the wind, she moved, spinning to evade while simultaneously slicing from his side. The blade cut with a fierce precision, matching her sharp gaze.
This single move startled Fang. He raised his sword to block, but she did not engage in a forceful clash. Instead, she quickly redirected her strike toward another opening.
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