Because there were too many people taking the exam, the archery competition wasn't held separately. Two hundred targets were lined up on one side of the training ground, and the candidates, in groups of two hundred, took turns showcasing their archery skills.
Archery actually assessed three things: horsemanship, archery, and naturally, a combination of both.
However, this year's Martial Arts Academy exam was somewhat special. Dean Zhou had taken it upon himself to remove the horsemanship component. In his words, even with the entire nation's resources, the Sui Dynasty only had two pure cavalry units. The horsemanship competition was essentially useless for these candidates, because the commanders of those two cavalry units were personally selected and appointed by the Emperor. Even if the Martial Arts Academy candidates performed exceptionally well, they would only have the opportunity to enter the army for training after three years, and the probability of joining those two cavalry units was almost zero.
Without the horsemanship competition, the latter two were conducted directly:
Archery and archery on horseback.
Two hundred people shot arrows simultaneously each time, ten arrows per person. Five fixed-target shots and five moving-target shots.
Fang Jie was in the third batch of examinees. While others were shooting, he stood quietly to the side, watching intently, seemingly trying to memorize every detail. Soldiers drawn from the Right Guard were recording the examinees' scores at the targets. Professor Qiu Yu of the Martial Arts Academy, who was in charge of supervising the exams, stood behind the targets. She seemed completely unconcerned about being accidentally injured by a missed arrow, strolling back and forth behind the targets with her hands behind her back.
As his turn was approaching, Fang Jie squatted down and adjusted his boots. He tied the boot tops to his calves with straw rope he had found, tucked the hem of his robe into his belt, and then tied the sleeves with straw rope as well. Just as he was ready, he heard the invigilator's call.
"Next batch!"
Fang Jie took a few slow breaths and looked at the bow and the ten arrows in his quiver. On the target side, the Right Guard soldiers responsible for recording scores removed the arrows from the targets and collected them, then retreated back behind cover. With the sound of a gong, Fang Jie and his group of two hundred examinees stood in a straight line at the marked white lines.
The fixed-point shooting was divided into five parts. The examinees first walked to the first white line, seventy paces from the target, fired one arrow, then quickly retreated, firing another arrow while retreating. They then retreated to a position eighty paces from the target, stood still, fired one arrow, and then quickly retreated again, firing another arrow. This process continued. There were five white lines in total, with four retreats and nine arrows fired. The final arrow required the examinees to quickly switch positions at a distance of one hundred and twenty paces from the target, firing the tenth arrow while running.
The time taken to complete the archery competition, the direction of the running steps, and accuracy were all considered in the overall score.
The rules sounded simple, but shooting those ten arrows well was no easy feat. The bows they used were exquisitely crafted by the Sui Dynasty's weapon workshops, easily propelling arrows two hundred paces. However, even at a distance exceeding seventy paces, the trajectory of the arrow's flight and its landing point had to be calculated. Retreating to one hundred and ten paces, the arrow's flight distance was so great that even a slight breeze could alter its trajectory.
Furthermore, achieving accurate shooting while running made the task incredibly difficult.
Fang Jie strapped the quiver to his back, adjusting it so he could easily draw the arrows. He first practiced drawing the bowstring a few times to get used to the bow's feel. Before starting, he bent down, found a small pebble, held it between his fingers, and fired it with the bow, watching its trajectory until it landed, memorizing the feel of the shot.
The moment the gong sounded for the second time, Fang Jie immediately drew his first arrow from the quiver on his back. Without any aiming, he drew the bow and fired in one fluid motion. The first arrow was seventy paces from the target, a distance from which fixed shooting was not difficult for Fang Jie.
After firing the first arrow, Fang Jie didn't even check if it hit the target. Unlike others who would turn and run a distance before aiming, he simply pushed off the ground, his body gliding backward like a kite caught in the wind. Alternating between his left and right feet, he leaped backward repeatedly, drawing the arrow from the quiver as he landed. The bowstring was fully drawn as he landed, and he leaped again, the arrow shooting out.
After several more alternating footsteps, Fang Jie retreated to the second white line, eighty paces from the target. Drawing the arrow, firing, retreating rapidly, drawing the arrow, firing—his movements were fluid and graceful.
When Fang Jie retreated to the third white line, ninety paces from the target, few candidates remained at his distance. Zhang Kuang, about ten meters away, despite his previous injuries, displayed remarkable skill in this purely military test. As Fang Jie shot his third arrow and retreated, he glanced to his sides. He discovered that Zhang Kuang was slightly faster, about half a pace ahead.
On the other side, Yu Xiao, son of General Yu Manlou of the Left Guard, was almost parallel to Fang Jie. Clearly, General Yu Manlou was extremely strict with his son. Yu Xiao's archery technique and running form were impeccable; even the instructors training new recruits couldn't surpass him.
Unlike Fang Jie's seemingly simple jump, Yu Xiao's archery skills appeared even more solid. He fired while running, glancing back as he went, aiming only briefly with each arrow before releasing it.
Several others at a greater distance possessed exceptional skill and were nearly as fast as Fang Jie. Six or seven out of the ten examinees were from military backgrounds.
In this competition, the advantages of soldiers were on full display.
From shooting the first arrow to retreating to the fifth white line, 110 paces from the target, Fang Jie shot nine arrows in no more than two minutes. Only one or two were faster than him, six or seven reached the same distance, and four or five were slightly slower.
But then, a problem arose.
Zhang Kuang, who had arrived a moment earlier than Fang Jie, and another soldier hesitated, seemingly unsure how to shoot the tenth arrow.
…
…
When Fang Jie reached his position, he finally understood why Zhang Kuang, who had arrived a moment earlier, had hesitated. The tenth arrow required the examinees to switch positions, but if those who were ahead moved to the positions of the examinees next to them to shoot, their view would be blocked by those who hadn't yet returned. In other words, those who were slower became obstacles to their shooting the tenth arrow. But if they waited until the other candidates retreated before firing their tenth arrow, the advantage they had gained would be completely lost.
As Fang Jie realized this, he noticed Zhang Kuang looking in his direction. He instantly understood Zhang Kuang's meaning, but immediately shook his head. There were over ten meters between them, with at least six other candidates in between. If they switched places, the distance they would have to run was too great, and the retreating candidates would still be an obstacle. The hard-won lead in time couldn't be squandered.
Without time to hesitate, Fang Jie immediately jumped to the side. As he landed, he crouched down as low as possible, gathering all his strength in his legs. In an instant, he could feel the muscles in his legs tensing rapidly. This feeling of expansion was wonderful, boosting his confidence once again.
After crouching down, his feet immediately displayed explosive power. With a stomp of his feet on the ground, Fang Jie's body suddenly shot up. As he leaped, Fang Jie drew his last arrow from behind and, without hesitation, fired it at the distant target.
Just then, the examinee facing that target happened to be less than a meter in front of Fang Jie. Fang Jie's tenth arrow grazed his scalp, startling the examinee who screamed and instinctively ducked forward.
Fang Jie smiled apologetically at him, his tense muscles slowly relaxing. He turned and walked away, untying the quiver strapped to his back as he went. The Right Guard soldier in charge of supervision ran over and took the bow and quiver from his hands.
Fang Jie found a rock to sit on, plucked a blade of grass, and watched those who hadn't finished the exam running and shooting with all their might. The feeling of being a detached observer was quite strange.
Zhang Kuang returned the bow and quiver to the soldiers of the Right Guard, sat down next to Fang Jie, and smiled, saying, "I thought this was the only test I could beat you in, but in the end, my hesitation allowed you to overtake me. Sigh… if I had known there would be someone like you among this year's military candidates, I probably wouldn't have come."
Fang Jie smiled: "Actually, you could have been faster."
Zhang Kuang paused, gave a wry smile, and shook his head, saying, "I've reached my limit."
"How many times did you look at me while you were shooting arrows?" Fang Jie asked.
"Four times," Zhang Kuang answered truthfully. "You're too eager to beat me."
Fang Jie sighed, stretched, and said calmly, "It's precisely because you're so eager to beat me that you're distracted. You keep checking to see if I've surpassed you. Although a glance takes a tiny amount of time, it still affects your movements. If you focused solely on archery, you'd be at least two steps faster than me. But in the end, you were only one step faster, and you wasted that step due to hesitation at the last moment."
Zhang Kuang nodded, remained silent for a moment, and then said, "I really want to beat you, very much."
He also plucked a blade of grass from the ground and put it in his mouth, chewing it as he imitated Fang Jie, saying, "I said before, this is the only test where I have a chance to beat you. After this one, I'm afraid there won't be another chance."
"Why are you so eager to beat me?" Fang Jie asked.
Zhang Kuang hesitated for a long time, then turned to Fang Jie and answered seriously, "Because of jealousy, I guess."
Fang Jie reached out and patted Zhang Kuang's shoulder without saying anything.
Zhang Kuang chuckled and said, "People are always like this; they're jealous of those stronger than themselves. Sorry, you treat me as a friend, but I see you as a rival."
Fang Jie slowly shook his head, saying softly, "If I didn't see everyone as a rival, how could I possibly beat most people?"
Zhang Kuang paused, then nodded thoughtfully.
Just then, a plump figure floated over from afar. As it drifted towards Fang Jie, it chuckled, "Little Fang Jie, haven't seen me in days! Did you miss me? I came to see if you did badly on your exams. If so, I'm planning to celebrate with something good today."
Fang Jie looked at the plump figure and smiled at first. But when he saw how dirty the guy was, Fang Jie's face darkened.
"What's wrong?"
When Xiang Qingniu reached his side, Fang Jie frowned, looking at the several ripped patches on Xiang Qingniu's Taoist robe. "I was just cleaning up your mess, and you didn't even do a proper job! You're covered in stench!"
Xiang Qingniu plopped down next to Fang Jie, panting, and said, "I found that day…who is this?"
He pointed at Zhang Kuang.
Zhang Kuang recognized Xiang Qingniu's Taoist robe and knew its significance. So he stood up, clasped his hands in a salute, and said, "Greetings, Master. My name is Zhang Kuang, a candidate for the Martial Arts Academy this year, and a military officer from the border region of Anyuan City."
Xiang Qingniu laughed heartily, "Little Fang Jie's comrade-in-arms, haha, a handsome young man…why don't you rest for a while? I have something to discuss with Little Fang Jie."
"Okay."
Zhang Kuang smiled and said, "You two chat, I'll go check on the other brothers over there."
After saying this, he turned and walked away. As he turned, the humble and sincere smile on his face vanished. It was unclear what he was thinking, but a fleeting look of sadness and sorrow crossed his eyes.
Zhang Kuang slowly approached the other examinees, his expression gradually turning cold.
Listening to Fang Jie chatting and laughing with the fat man in the black Taoist robe, Zhang Kuang's face grew increasingly grim.
"I actually had the audacity to think I could beat you... You're someone His Majesty values, you have connections with the Imperial Guards, you have connections with Marquis Wu Yidao, you have connections with the owner of Hongxiuzhao, you have connections with several Grand Secretaries in the court, you even have a good relationship with that beautiful female professor... Now, a real person has come out and chatted with you so familiarly, what do I have to compare with you?"
"Fang Jie... just who are you?"
"Zhang Kuang... just how stupid are you?" You're just a lowly brigadier with no future. You don't know anyone in the Imperial Guards, you don't know the Marquis of Sanjin, you don't know any Grand Secretaries, you've never been to the Red Sleeve Pavilion, you can't even speak to the professors at the Martial Arts Academy, no important figure from the Daoist sect will ever come to chat with you, and you'll never be appreciated by His Majesty… You're just a nobody among the Northern Barbarian tribes who, to survive and gain merit, had to marry the tribal chief's daughter and then personally kill her.
Zhang Kuang, the difference between you and Fang Jie is too great.
He walked away, a bitter smile on his face.
You two are from two different worlds.