Chapter 43 A Bit Dirty

Chapter 43: A Bit Dirty

Cui Ji looked at the burning desire in his eyes and, for a moment, didn’t know how to respond.

Cheng Ge seemed to notice his hesitation, stepped closer to him, and spoke with unprecedented sincerity, “I’ll throw in a lingzhi mushroom, no more than that.”

He really liked this bow—it packed enough punch, and the material clearly wasn’t ordinary.

Cheng Ge pictured himself striding in with this bow, looking all badass—he’d be the baddest dude in the room.

Plus, it could scare off any malicious troublemakers. Who’d dare mess with his little flower? He’d shoot ’em dead right there!

“Can I?” Cheng Ge looked up at Cui Ji, his eyes full of hope.

Cui Ji didn’t know how to tell him this bow was a family heirloom and not for sale.

“No.”

Hearing that cold “no,” Cheng Ge’s face dropped.

He ran his thumb over the bow a few times, then carefully set it down, a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

But Cheng Ge wasn’t a jerk. A gentleman doesn’t take what others love. Besides, a guy like Cui Ji probably wasn’t hurting for cash, so it made sense he wouldn’t sell.

“Oh, no biggie. When I get rich, I’ll make myself a bigger one.”

Everyone: Dude, you’re asking for trouble.

“This bow was a gift from Emperor Taizu, so I can’t give it to you. But you can borrow it if you want.”

“Really?” Even if he couldn’t keep it, borrowing it for a few days was cool.

“Did you learn archery as a child?”

“No, I started learning a few years ago… in high school.”

Cui Ji, seeing his skill, figured he’d been at it since he was a kid. Hearing it was just a few years, he figured Cheng Ge was a natural.

He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret. If it were anyone else, he’d have drafted them into the army without a second thought.

But Cheng Ge’s foundation was still too weak, totally not cut out for the military.

Instead, he was more suited for… being kept hidden away like a treasure.

Cui Ji’s breath caught, startled by the sudden thought that popped into his head.

He didn’t know why that idea had popped into his head.

He instinctively glanced up at Cheng Ge, stared at his face for a good five seconds, then shrugged it off.

He thought, yeah, definitely not his own brain’s fault.

Cheng Ge had no clue what Cui Ji was daydreaming about. He picked up the bow and shot a few more arrows, quickly finding his rhythm.

“Your Highness, wanna have a contest?” Cheng Ge raised an eyebrow, a challenge in his eyes.

At that, the crowd went dead silent.

Sure, Cheng Ge’s two arrows earlier were jaw-dropping, but Cui Ji was the War God of Great Zhou!

Gods are meant to be worshipped, not challenged!

Cui Ji looked at Cheng Ge, momentarily dazed.

Back when his Cui brothers were still alive, daily training always meant sparring.

And his second brother, Cui Chen, used to make the same face as Cheng Ge when he came to get his ass kicked.

Maybe it was because they were both such cocky young guys.

As if possessed, Cui Ji nodded without a second thought.

“How do we compete?”

“Ten arrows each. Whoever hits the bullseye the most wins.” Cheng Ge grinned, tossing the bow in his hand.

Cui Ji wasn’t worried. He’d been handling bows since he was three; he could hit a regular target blindfolded.

“But the loser has to do whatever the winner says.”

Cui Ji didn’t know what he was up to, but he didn’t say no. “Fine.”

“You go first.” Cheng Ge tossed the bow to Cui Ji.

Cui Ji caught it smoothly, took his stance, nocked an arrow, and drew the string—his movements fluid and seamless.

“Swish, swish, swish!” Three arrows shot out like meteors, hitting the bullseye without a doubt.

The crowd gasped in awe. That archery was legendary.

Cheng Ge clapped his little hands, genuinely impressed by Cui Ji’s skill.

If this were his era, Cui Ji could probably snag a silver medal.

Cheng Ge: Don’t ask why silver—’cause gold’s mine, duh.

Cui Ji turned and handed the bow to Cheng Ge, who took it without hesitation and stepped up.

He nocked the arrow, drew the string, squinted—his movements smooth and fluid, his face radiating cocky pride.

“Swish, swish, swish!” Three arrows shot out, all hitting the bullseye.

“Damn…” The crowd gasped again, totally stunned.

They thought Cheng Ge’s earlier show was already over the top, but there was no limit—just more and more flashy.

Damn, those two were like walking plastic bags.

Everyone: The way you two are acting, it really makes us look like cannon fodder.

In the following rounds, they alternated shooting, each arrow hitting the bullseye with precision, making it impossible to tell who was ahead.

By the final round, the tension was palpable.

Cheng Ge found it a bit boring. At this rate, they’d run out of arrows without settling anything.

“Your Highness, let’s switch targets.”

Cui Ji understood what he meant and ordered to the side, “Set up the copper coin target.”

Another wave of gasps rippled through the crowd...

There were three grades of archery targets: cloth targets, leather targets, and copper coin targets.

Cloth targets were standard, set thirty paces away, usually used for ceremonial archery. Leather targets were covered in animal hide, set sixty paces away, mostly used for military training.

The copper coin target, however, tested one's eyesight. A square-holed coin was suspended at the bullseye a hundred paces away, with a red backing, and hitting it made a sharp clang.

Everyone knew the copper coin target was insanely hard—hitting that tiny square hole from a hundred paces was next to impossible.

Cheng Ge didn't seem too fazed, and Cui Ji was as unflappable as a mountain crumbling before him, clearly not finding it much of a challenge either.

"Your Highness, how about we change the game?" Cheng Ge suggested.

Cui Ji's expression was calm as he looked at Cheng Ge. "Change it to what?"

"For this last arrow, let's not use a fixed target. We'll have someone toss the copper coin into the air, and whoever shoots through the coin's square hole wins." Cheng Ge's lips curled up, his eyes brimming with excitement.

Cui Ji paused for a second, then quickly caught on. "Do what he says."

A soldier stepped forward as ordered and tossed a copper coin high into the air.

Sunlight glinted off the coin, shining through the hole in its center.

Cui Ji nocked an arrow and pulled back the bowstring, his eyes locked on the coin spinning in midair.

With a whoosh, the arrow shot out, slicing through the air toward the coin.

Everyone held their breath, their gazes fixed on the arrow's trajectory.

It looked like it was about to pass right through the coin.

But then! At that very moment!

An arrow shot out like a ghost from the side, its whirring sound piercing everyone's ears, carrying the force of a thousand troops.

In the blink of an eye, a crisp "crack" rang out—Cui Ji's arrow was split in two by this sudden strike, breaking into pieces.

And that arrow, undiminished in force, let out a sharp "clang" as it tore through the square hole of the coin, driving straight into the ground.

The scene went dead silent, as quiet as a night in Ulaanbaatar.

Cui Ji didn't know what expression to wear at that moment.

The feeling was about as pleasant as having someone sleep with your wife on your wedding night.

That move... was seriously dirty!