"A bow?"
Xu Bin had been planning to go home for dinner.
He didn't live with his father, but in a military settlement near the garrison, where his wife waited for him.
"Follow me," he said, frowning with clear displeasure.
The two went to the armory of the garrison. After Xu Bin explained things to the guard on duty, they stepped into the section where the bows and arrows were stored.
"You're planning to use it for hunting, right?" Xu Bin asked. "Normally, soldiers aren't allowed to carry weapons before their official assignments are confirmed. But since I don't use a bow myself, there happens to be an unused Flag Officer's quota—you can take one for now."
He paused, then added, "Also, I'm very busy. Unless it's something truly important, go through your immediate superior next time instead of coming to me."
The message was obvious—he'd help this once, but don't come bothering him again.
"Understood. Sanshi will remember Flag Officer Xu's help."
Chen Sanshi wasn't the type to trouble others easily. He just needed the bow to improve himself, so he had to swallow his pride this once.
The clerk unlocked the warehouse door and pushed it open.
Xu Bin left after giving a few quick instructions, leaving Chen Sanshi to choose his weapon.
Rows of bows hung neatly along the wooden wall inside the storage room.
The standard bows used in the Great Sheng Dynasty army came in two main types—small-siyah bows and large-siyah bows. The large-siyah bows were also known as Kaiyuan Bows.
Their draw weights ranged from four-strength to two-stone.
The clerk in charge explained, "You can take whichever draw weight you can handle. You'll also be issued twenty arrows and a quiver."
He pointed to the racks. "But the heaviest standard bow we have here is the two-stone bow. Anything heavier is for officers only—you'd have to custom-order it from the military forge. Not that most people could ever use it."
He was just finishing when he saw Chen Sanshi reaching for the large bow hanging in the far corner.
"Hey, hey, what are you doing? That's the heaviest—two-stone!"
"That's the one I want," Chen Sanshi said calmly.
His status panel said he could easily draw a one-stone bow, but that didn't mean he only could.
If he could draw one easily, that meant his strength exceeded that benchmark.
He figured he could probably manage a two-stone bow—though it'd be tough. But since his strength would keep growing as he trained, it was better to start heavy now than to outgrow his bow too quickly.
"Two-stone?" The clerk eyed him up and down. The young man's clothes clearly didn't mark him as an officer.
"Don't mess around," he warned. "You'll have to prove you can hit a target from sixty paces before you're allowed to take it."
"No problem."
Chen Sanshi didn't waste words. He carried the bow straight to the practice range outside.
He held the weapon in both hands, examining the craftsmanship, feeling its weight and balance.
It was the heaviest Kaiyuan Bow—its core made from premium purple bamboo, the siyahs carved from elmwood, with the limbs reinforced by ox horn and dense hardwood. Compared to a recurve bow, its construction was far more complex.
Drawing it for the first time, he realized that after two days of stance training, his strength had grown noticeably.
'So martial cultivation really does show results instantly? No wonder it burns through energy so fast.'
A two-stone bow—roughly three hundred jin of draw weight.
Chen Sanshi gritted his teeth, his back and arm muscles straining together. Veins bulged on his forehead as he hooked the arrow in place and pulled the bowstring back slowly.
"Hum—"
A deep, thunderous vibration rang through the air.
The bow roared like thunder; the arrow split the air like lightning.
"Bang!"
Almost instantly, the arrow slammed into the target, letting out a resounding crack. It punched a wide hole straight through a board more than two inches thick before burying itself into the dirt beyond.
"Dead center?!"
The clerk rushed into the range, staring wide-eyed at the target. "Seventy paces… a two-stone bow… right in the bullseye?!"
Even Chen Sanshi was taken aback by the sheer power of it—the force of the shot reverberated through his arms and chest.
If he used this on a man, even standard armor probably wouldn't stop it.
"You're new here, right? Just started martial training?" the clerk asked, running back to retrieve the arrow. "You mean to tell me you haven't even begun tempering blood yet, and you can already draw a two-stone bow? Xu Bin's hometown really produces monsters!"
"Can I take it now?" Chen Sanshi asked.
"Yes, yes," the clerk nodded repeatedly, almost like a pecking chicken. "Come over here, I'll give you twenty arrows. But let me make this clear—if you damage or lose any outside of wartime, you'll have to pay for them. Each arrow costs fifty bronze coins, so use them sparingly."
A heavy bow naturally required heavy arrows.
That also meant they were more expensive than standard ones.
When Chen Sanshi loosed his arrow earlier, he could already feel his proficiency increase.
[Skill: Archery (Mastery)]
[Progress: (230/500)]
[Effect: Born Archer; Easily Draws a One-Stone Bow; Within Seventy Steps, Three Shots per Flick—Every Arrow Hits True.]
Combined with the hunting he'd done the past few days, his proficiency was nearly halfway full. With a heavier bow now in hand, it wouldn't take long to advance to the next stage.
"So hungry!"
His body was completely drained after half a day of training. That one flatbread earlier hadn't been nearly enough. Slinging the bow and quiver over his back, he decided to head home.
The discipline in the garrison was loose. Since most soldiers lived in the nearby military villages, they could return home anytime after roll call.
And since Chen Sanshi hadn't even been officially assigned to a unit yet, no one bothered to stop him.
By the time he neared Swallow-Edge Village, his blue training armor and red hat had already caught the villagers' attention.
"So that's where you've been the past two days—joined the army, huh?"
"Well, I'll be damned, Little Shitou actually looks like a real soldier now."
"Yeah, looks all mighty and proper, but I bet it won't last long."
"Hey, Baldy, you're asking for a beating!"
"Hmph, you don't believe me? Just wait and see."
"…"
Hearing that, Chen Sanshi stopped walking and turned to face the man—a middle-aged villager with patchy bald spots and ringworm on his scalp.
"Uncle Baldy, what do you mean by that?"
Baldy glanced around nervously, then leaned in and lowered his voice. "I heard from Ergou and the others that Qin Xiong's younger brother is planning to kill you."
"Qin Feng?"
So they were finally coming after him.
Chen Sanshi wasn't surprised—and he wasn't afraid either.
He was a registered military household now. Without concrete evidence, Qin Feng couldn't touch him. Especially not during a time of war.
In peacetime, military households were just another social class. But during wartime, harming one was practically an act of rebellion against the Great Sheng Dynasty itself.
And Qin Feng wasn't anyone important. If he held power, his brother wouldn't have needed to scrape together silver every day just to fund his martial training. At most, he'd try something sneaky behind the scenes.
"Thanks for the warning, Uncle Baldy," Chen Sanshi said before walking on.
As soon as he stepped into the village, he caught sight of a few of Qin Xiong's old lackeys sprinting off down the road—clearly going to report.
…
"Second Brother!"
"Chen Sanshi's back in the village, but…"
Inside the Tianyuan Martial Hall, Qin Feng sheathed his longsword and shot a cold glance sideways. "But what?"
"He's wearing soldier's armor," the lackey said quickly. "I heard he joined the army these last two days. Dressed like that, we can't exactly just attack him in the open, can we?"
"…"
Qin Feng shut his eyes and drew a slow, deep breath, forcing down his irritation.
From everything he'd gathered, that hunter surnamed Chen was the only one strong enough—and suspicious enough—to have caused his brother's disappearance. His plan had been simple: capture him, cut off an arm, and force the truth out. But now…
"He actually joined the military household ranks," Qin Feng muttered.
The Great Sheng Dynasty was in constant war. He was just a martial hall disciple—attacking a soldier publicly would be suicide.
"No," he said suddenly, eyes narrowing in alarm. "He can't be allowed to train!"
His tone turned grave, almost desperate. "That guy used to be a bookish weakling, didn't even lift a finger for chores. Yet the moment he picked up a bow, he could feed himself. That means his body's naturally strong."
"If he becomes a martial soldier and keeps growing stronger, he'll be a real threat to me someday. I can't let that happen. Absolutely not."