Chapter 15: Can I Join You on the Hunt Tomorrow?
At this moment, Chen Fan stood firmly over fifty meters away from the target. His right hand reached back, pulling an arrow from the quiver on his back and nocking it on the bowstring.
What? Chen Guodong thought, eyes widening. Could he really hit the target from this distance? Before he could process further, a sharp whoosh split the air. A glint flashed across the dark arrowhead before vanishing instantly. In the distance, the target shuddered violently as an arrow struck dead center. A dull thud echoed, reaching every onlooker’s ears.
…!
For a heartbeat, Chen Guodong’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. A bullseye at fifty meters? Am I dreaming? The woman beside him gaped in disbelief.
Chen Fan, however, acted as if nothing had happened. Calmly, he drew a second arrow from the quiver and nocked it.
Whoosh!
The arrow’s flight pierced the quiet night.
Thud!
The second arrow struck the bullseye, snug against the first.
Chen Guodong’s jaw hung slack.
One shot might be luck—but two? And he’s not stopping?
Chen Fan remained silent, his expression unreadable. He drew a third arrow, pulled the bowstring taut, and released it in one fluid motion.
Thud!
Three bullseyes.
Then a fourth. A fifth.
Unconsciously, sweat beaded on Chen Guodong and his wife’s foreheads. Their initial disbelief had morphed into stunned silence, then numb acceptance.
At some point, Wang Ping and others arrived, frozen in shock. They’d expected skill—but not this. Was he even human?
The limping man twitched his lips. So the kid brought his family to show off. Damn, he nailed it.
Finally, Chen Fan turned, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Dad, can I join the hunt tomorrow?”
Silence gripped the clearing. Even the limping man stared, wide-eyed.
Chen Guodong forced a wry smile. What could he say? Chen Fan’s skill, while slightly below the Wei brothers’, was staggering for three days of practice. The woman beside him opened her mouth but found no words.
“This needs careful thought,” the limping man cut in, brow furrowed. “The wild isn’t target practice. Beasts move. Hone your skills longer.”
“Yes, exactly!” the woman chimed, grasping at the objection.
Chen Guodong’s flickering gaze betrayed his agreement.
Chen Fan shook his head. “Uncle Zhang, doesn’t the wilderness sharpen archery best?”
The limping man stiffened. He had no rebuttal—every hunter knew truth in those words.
“Danger’s everywhere,” Chen Fan pressed, locking eyes with his father. You’ve no excuse now.
“Alright.” Chen Guodong’s voice carried grim resolve. “You join us tomorrow.”
“Guodong!” his wife cried.
He silenced her with a look. “Rest early. We leave at dawn.”
Chen Fan nodded, smile widening.
On their walk back, the woman hissed, “How could you agree? He’s still a child! What if—”
“He must learn,” Chen Guodong sighed. “You saw him. Even one kill would ease the village’s burden.”
She fell silent before whispering, “Keep him safe.”
“With my life,” he vowed.
Yet doubt lingered. As Zhang Ren said—wild beasts weren’t targets. They fled faster than men could chase. Or worse, stood their ground.
Can he hit a sprinting beast? Chen Guodong wondered. But his presence will lift the others… even if he misses.
In the training ground, the limping man scowled. “Why didn’t you consult me first?”
Chen Fan scratched his head. “It was sudden. I only discussed it with Dad at dinner.”
“Impulsive,” the man grumbled. “More practice would’ve served you better.”
“Time’s short, Uncle Zhang.”
The man’s eyes darkened. The unspoken truth of the village’s plight hung heavy.
Chen Fan lightened the mood. “I’ll need your training guidance.”
“A small thing,” the man muttered, limping away. He knew evasion when he heard it—but against their struggles, what else could he do?
Four hours later, exhaustion weighed on everyone, even the limping man. Yet none complained as they rotated assisting Chen Fan’s drills. Some longed to join the hunt but lacked the nerve.
Thud.
Warmth flooded Chen Fan’s veins. [Basic Archery: Level 4 (0%)
Traits: Strong Body (4), Arm Strength (4), Precision Aim (4), Moving Targets (2)]
He exhaled in relief. Level 2 Moving Targets—60% accuracy on fast prey. That’ll help tomorrow.
But Precision Aim’s 120% puzzled him. Beyond 100%? Does it mean…
His brow furrowed. Maybe the stats are theoretical. Real prey isn’t a stationary target.
