Chapter 126: The Contest of Archery on Horseback

"What? He wants to sweep both the civil and military top honors? That’s impossible," a bystander remarked skeptically.

"Less talk, everyone. Just watch quietly; anything is possible until the exam is over," another said in a leisurely tone.

"The martial arts test consists of three components. The combined score of these three will form the martial arts grade, which, when added to the score from the military strategy exam, will determine the final ranking. We will now proceed with the first test—mounted archery.

"The mounted archery course is laid out from seventy paces to one hundred and sixty paces, with a target placed every ten paces. You must fire ten arrows while galloping and will be scored based on the rings hit," a Ministry of War official announced.

Immediately, hundreds of soldiers distributed longbows and quivers to each candidate. The bows were standard-issue army longbows with a draw weight of one hundred and fifty jin, and each quiver was uniformly stocked with ten standard iron-tipped arrows.

There were five archery lanes, allowing five candidates to test simultaneously; otherwise, the more than three hundred and eighty candidates would have been testing until nightfall.

Fang Xian gave his longbow a light pull, finding that it required little effort to reach a full draw. He then tested the weight of the iron arrows, and a plan immediately formed in his mind.

At this moment, the first group of five candidates spurred their horses toward the field. Once they reached the starting line, they did not slow down, continuing to gallop along the designated path while drawing their bows and nocking arrows. The air was filled with the constant whistling of arrows in flight.

Seventy paces was roughly fifty meters, while one hundred paces was about seventy-five meters. The furthest target, at one hundred and sixty paces, reached nearly one hundred and twenty meters.

If shooting from a stationary position, most well-trained soldiers could hit the target from over a hundred meters away. However, shooting while in motion increased the difficulty several times over.

Especially beyond one hundred meters, accuracy relied not only on strength, eyesight, and perception but also on external environmental factors like wind direction and speed. Thus, while the first five or six arrows were manageable for most, the final few were the true challenge.

"Wang Dongzhu, ten arrows on target, total score eighty-two rings."

"Zhao Yaozhong, ten arrows on target, total score eighty rings."

"Liu Dongsheng, ten arrows on target, total score eighty-two rings."

"Tang Yuyong, ten arrows on target, total score eighty-two rings."

"Han Jiahong, ten arrows on target, total score eighty-one rings."

"Gong Guoqiang, ten arrows on target, total score eighty-three rings."

"Tong Zhaopeng, ten arrows on target, total score eighty rings."

For most candidates, hitting the target with all ten arrows was no easy feat, especially the last two or three. A moment of carelessness meant missing entirely. Only those who hit all ten targets had a junior officer ride up to the command platform to report their results.

Fang Xian knew that to hit all ten targets with a score above eighty meant one could truly be called a master archer. From the names he heard, he realized that the favorites to win were almost all expert marksmen.

"Guo Shunsheng, ten arrows on target, total score seventy-eight rings."

Though arrogant, Guo Shunsheng had the skill to back it up. Not only did he hit all ten targets, but he scored seventy-eight—just two rings shy of being ranked a master archer. Even so, his score was enough to place him in the top ten.

"Xia Zhenghong, ten arrows on target, total score seventy-two rings."

Xia Zhenghong’s results were in: he too had hit all ten targets, but his last two were slightly off-center, resulting in a total of seventy-two rings—six fewer than Guo Shunsheng.

"Brother Fang, good luck!" Seeing Fang Xian riding toward the field as his turn approached, Xia Zhenghong shouted out, though he had no idea what Fang Xian’s actual archery level was.

"Xia Zhenghong, I underestimated you. I never expected you to hit all ten. Still, you’re a bit behind me," Guo Shunsheng said, walking over with a haughty air.

"You’re just like me—you haven’t reached the level of a master archer yet, so what is there to be proud of?" Xia Zhenghong ignored him, his eyes fixed on Fang Xian in the distance.

"Watching him is a waste of time. That kid looks like a silver-plated spear—shiny on the outside but useless. I’ll bet he doesn’t even hit five targets, let alone ten," Guo Shunsheng sneered, noticing Xia’s focus.

"Fine, let’s make a wager. If Brother Fang hits fewer than five targets, I lose one thousand taels of silver. If he hits five or more, you lose one thousand taels. How about it? Do you dare?" Xia Zhenghong gritted his teeth.

"Hahaha, free money? Why wouldn't I take it? But one thousand is too little. Let’s make it three thousand taels for seven targets. Do you dare?" Guo Shunsheng paused, his eyes darting as he spoke.

He was afraid of losing the bet on five targets, so he raised the stakes to seven. Since Fang Xian had made it to the palace examination, he clearly had some ability; the "five target" remark was just mockery. He wouldn't risk a bet on such a low number.

Xia Zhenghong knew the man was playing dirty, but out of trust in Fang Xian, he hesitated for a moment before gritting his teeth and agreeing. "Three thousand it is. But for every target Brother Fang hits above seven, you add one thousand taels, and for every target below, I add one thousand. Do you dare?"

"It's a deal. Three thousand taels on Fang Xian hitting seven targets. If he misses, you pay me one thousand for every target short. If he hits more, I pay you one thousand for every extra target," Guo Shunsheng agreed readily.

He had seen Xia Zhenghong’s hesitation. What was once a gamble now felt like a sure win, and if Fang Xian performed poorly, he stood to gain even more.

The surrounding candidates had overheard the wager, and everyone now paid close attention to Fang Xian. Word had spread during the lunch break that he was the top scholar in the civil service exam, and everyone was curious to see how he would fare in the martial arts test.

*Clatter, clatter...*

Soon, the five men in Fang Xian's group began their test. The Fire King, his horse, moved like a crimson tornado, flashing across the field at twice the speed of an ordinary warhorse.

Fang Xian sat motionless in the saddle. In an instant, three iron arrows appeared between his fingers, all nocked onto the longbow at once. A split second later, a continuous, rhythmic whistling filled the air, followed by the sound of arrows striking home.

Truly, his horse flew like the legendary Lu, and his bowstring twanged like a thunderclap. Fang Xian finished the test at double the speed of his peers. By the time the others had finished their ten shots, Fang Xian had already ridden the Fire King back to the foot of the command platform.

"My god, that was fast! Was he even able to fire all ten arrows?" the spectators on the platform wondered aloud. They had only seen the Fire King blur across the field and return, never seeing Fang Xian draw his bow.