Mingkong's Wonderful Enlightenment in a Snap of Fingers

Afternoon.

Outside the restaurant, Su Cheng and Sister Qin lingered after their meal.

The sun had lost its scorching intensity, casting a gentle glow over the brick-paved ground, creating an atmosphere of serene tranquility.

"By the way," Sister Qin suddenly remembered something, pulling a cigarette from her pocket. She lit it, took a slow drag, and exhaled the smoke leisurely before asking, "Any plans for the afternoon?"

Though Su Cheng disliked secondhand smoke, he showed no outward sign of displeasure, nor did he wave it away. He simply replied calmly, "I was thinking of visiting an archery range."

"What did you say?" Sister Qin, standing five meters away, frowned in exasperation. She stubbed out her cigarette and moved closer. "Repeat that?"

"I said I wanted to check out the archery range nearby."

Su Cheng repeated himself.

"Hah, archery range?"

Hearing his answer, Sister Qin pointed casually across the street. "See? There’s one right there."

"Really?"

"Look—Archery Club."

"Then I’ll go take a look."

Just as Su Cheng was about to head over, Sister Qin stopped him.

"It’s just… I’m a little worried about your frail physique." She gave him a once-over, shaking her head with a hint of disdain. "You’ve got the constitution of a delicate flower—one stumble and you’d probably break a bone. Can you even handle such a demanding sport?"

"How do you know I’m weak—"

Su Cheng nearly retorted but then realized Sister Qin wasn’t entirely wrong. He was physically weak—frail since childhood, breaking into a sweat and aching all over from even light exercise. And now, he was still recovering from a recent illness.

"Hey, don’t look so down." Noticing his expression, Sister Qin clapped a hand on his shoulder with hearty encouragement. "I happen to have a membership card. How about I take you for a trial session? Then you can decide if it suits you."

"You practice archery too?"

"It’s a national sport—suitable for everyone, men and women alike."

Hearing this, Su Cheng’s eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly. "Then I’ll trouble you, Sister Qin."

She waved it off. "I’ve got nothing else to do anyway."

Soon, Su Cheng found himself in Sister Qin’s taxi, en route to the archery club where she held a membership.

Having grown closer over their meal, Su Cheng sat in the front passenger seat beside her.

"Why the sudden interest in archery?" Sister Qin paused, her gaze flickering with sudden curiosity. "Don’t tell me there’s some dramatic backstory behind it?"

"Huh?"

Su Cheng hesitated but quickly shook his head. "No, just pure interest."

Cornelia hadn’t mentioned anything about the future to this person, so there was no need to complicate things.

"Interest, huh?"

Sister Qin arched an eyebrow, her lips curling into a knowing smile before she fell silent.

She knew Su Cheng’s fiancée was an archery champion. Perhaps he was trying to bridge the gap between them.

Was he chasing after her footsteps?

Striving to stand as her equal?

Hoping to appear worthy in the eyes of others?

Though cliché in dramas, such a storyline in real life was nothing short of riveting.

As the car rolled down the road, Su Cheng gazed out the window, lost in thought.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a sizable archery range.

Limping slightly, Su Cheng followed Sister Qin inside. Sunlight streamed through the expansive glass windows, illuminating the spacious interior adorned with historical displays and portraits of archery through the ages.

The ambiance was solemn and dignified, as if transporting visitors back to ancient times.

"Welcome to our archery club," a graceful attendant greeted them with a smile. "Are you here for an archery experience?"

"Here. I brought a friend to try it out."

Sister Qin handed over her membership card. "Fetch your best instructor. I’d like to discuss the details."

"Of course."

The attendant scanned the card, then glanced at Su Cheng. "Sir, first, we’ll need you to fill out a participation waiver. This ensures you understand and agree to the safety regulations and liabilities. After that, you may choose to rent our equipment or bring your own. If renting, we offer various types of bows and arrows tailored to your physique and experience level."

"Understood." Su Cheng nodded, moving to a seat to complete the form while the attendant served them drinks before heading to the front desk.

Sister Qin sipped her beverage, watching him scribble away with quiet amusement.

"How should I fill in the draw weight?"

Su Cheng hit a snag—he knew next to nothing about archery.

"Try the resistance band over there." Sister Qin pointed to the equipment area.

Following her advice, Su Cheng picked up the band while Sister Qin trailed behind, observing his struggle to decide on the appropriate resistance.

"Start with 15 kilograms. If you can hold it steady for 10 seconds, you can attempt it. If you last 90 seconds without shaking, that’s your ideal draw weight."

She added, "Of course, that’s just my suggestion. Feel free to explore other options."

Nodding, Su Cheng began pulling the band. He managed to stretch it, but as the seconds ticked by, his arms trembled under the strain, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Release."

"Okay."

After a short break, he tried again.

Seeing this, Sister Qin set down her drink and stepped in to correct his posture. "Push forward, pull back, engage your back muscles, raise your wrists…"

Under her guidance, Su Cheng persisted.

Finally, after immense effort, he managed to hold the band taut for over ten seconds!

"Pant… pant…"

Gasping for breath, Su Cheng collapsed onto a chair, drenched in sweat, his face flushed.

"Honestly, your physique isn’t quite suited for this," Sister Qin sighed, taken aback by how poorly his body had fared in that brief minute.

She softened her tone. "I’d strongly recommend building up your strength before picking up a bow."

"Is it really that bad?" Su Cheng muttered, disheartened. Even if he had talent, it seemed useless if he couldn’t even draw the bowstring.

Just then, an attendant approached with a woman even slighter in build than Su Cheng, leading her to the resistance bands.

The woman effortlessly pulled the bowstring for dozens of seconds.

Watching this, Su Cheng suddenly fell silent, then returned to his seat and honestly filled in "10 kilograms" on the form.

Sister Qin massaged her temples in frustration. Unless something unexpected happened, she’d soon be accompanying Su Cheng to the children’s training area—his physical condition was so poor that even kids would shake their heads at it.

"Seriously, is this bow something you absolutely have to try?"

Sister Qin was worried. She’d rather Su Cheng work on his fitness first, especially since he was already injured. If he worsened his condition, she couldn’t take responsibility.

"Yes."

Su Cheng responded softly, his expression resolute.

"Fine." Sister Qin sighed, realizing she couldn’t stop him.

"Understood. We’ll arrange an excellent coach for you right away. She’ll provide dedicated and attentive guidance. Please wait a moment."

After submitting the form and paying the fee at the front desk, the receptionist responded politely, though her tone was somewhat perfunctory.

However, when she glanced down and saw the draw weight Su Cheng had written, she couldn’t help but shoot him a surprised look before radioing for the so-called "coach."

Soon, a young woman in professional attire, her hair tied in a ponytail, walked out. She looked about eighteen, exuding an energetic and spirited aura with her crisp, athletic demeanor.

"Hello, you two. Where’s the child?"

The coach’s opening line delivered a silent blow, instantly making Su Cheng freeze in awkwardness.

"Ahem… Well…"

Sister Qin cleared her throat. "It’s actually this gentleman here. He has some… physical limitations, so…"

"Oh! I’m so sorry!" The coach immediately bowed in apology, her face flushing with embarrassment. "Please forgive my thoughtlessness. I’m usually assigned to the children’s section."

Her explanation only made the situation more awkward. Even the receptionist couldn’t bear it anymore. "Ahem… Han Coach, perhaps we should head to the shooting range first."

"Ah—right. My name is Han Ya."

The somewhat scatterbrained coach nodded, then guided Su Cheng and Sister Qin toward the shooting area.

The three of them walked in silence for several minutes, no one daring to break the tension.

Only when they reached the range did Han Ya notice Su Cheng staring intently at a longbow displayed prominently on the wall. Seizing the chance to ease the mood, she spoke up:

"That’s our archery hall’s prized bow."

"Right. I’ve heard every dojo has one," Sister Qin chimed in before turning to Han Ya. "Coach Han, what’s the story behind this one?"

"Of course." Han Ya smiled and began explaining. "This bow is part of our hall master’s collection, with a long history. It was crafted by the renowned ancient artisan XX. The back is made of composite bamboo and wood, the string from multiple animal tendons, and the grip is wrapped in ivory."

Sister Qin nodded. "Sounds quite valuable. But I’ve heard every prized bow comes with a condition for claiming it. What’s this one’s?"

"Become a member of our hall… and then win a world championship."

Han Ya sighed regretfully. "Our late hall master once promised that any member who won a world title could take this bow home. Sadly, no champion has ever emerged."

"What’s the usual standard for a champion? How far is the target, and what draw weight is used?" Su Cheng suddenly interjected. Though he knew little about archery, he was keenly interested in the requirements for a champion.

"The current world championship standard is 120 meters, following the concept of 'hitting a willow leaf at a hundred paces.'"

Han Ya glanced at Su Cheng before adding, "The maximum draw weight allowed in competition is two stone."

Su Cheng quietly memorized the details before pressing further. "What abilities must a contender for the world championship possess?"

Her answer left both Su Cheng and Sister Qin stunned.

"Instinct." Han Ya’s expression turned unusually serious. "Everything else can be learned or trained—except for one thing: instinct."

The response caught them off guard. They hadn’t expected the young coach to speak with such gravity.

Seeing their confusion, Han Ya smiled and elaborated. "Instinct is something… mystical. It’s hard to put into words, but one thing’s certain: if you have it, you’re a one-in-ten-thousand prodigy."

"So, Coach Han… do you have this instinct?"

Sister Qin studied Han Ya closely. There was something about her—beyond her youthful appearance—that hinted at untold stories.

"Me? No. That’s why I can’t give a precise answer." Han Ya shrugged. "But you could also think of it as… innate talent."

"Then later, see if he has any talent."

Sister Qin gestured toward Su Cheng.

"I’ll… do my best." Han Ya nodded.

"Thank you, Coach Han."

"Don’t mention it." Han Ya waved it off. "Let’s head to the range."

Thanks to the membership, Su Cheng wasn’t relegated to the crowded one-hour group sessions for beginners. Instead, he was led to a private practice room with a single target and shooting lane, the environment quiet and undisturbed.

After donning protective gear, Su Cheng stepped up to the shooting line. The target was less than ten meters away, with a rectangular cabinet beside it holding a bow and a quiver of arrows.

Under Han Ya’s guidance, Su Cheng took his position while Sister Qin watched from the side—keeping an eye on him, given his frail condition.

"Please pick up the hall bow."

Han Ya stood nearby, instructing him.

"Mm." Su Cheng took a deep breath and looked down at the weapon before him—a tool of war that had endured millennia, never abandoned by humanity.

He slowly reached out and grasped it. The moment his fingers touched the bow, a strange yet familiar electric sensation surged through him, making him shudder.

Just as Han Ya moved to adjust his stance, Su Cheng suddenly acted—drawing the bow and nocking the arrow with seamless fluidity, as though he’d harmonized with the very forces of nature.

"Eh?!"

"Huh?!"

Both the coach and Sister Qin froze in place.

Then, instinctively, they took a few steps back, observing Su Cheng’s entire posture. He stood with solemn dignity, his fingers releasing the string—which responded with a sharp twang and a deep resonance, as though the bow itself was answering his touch.

For a moment, their faces filled with disbelief. The bow’s response had been too keen, too piercing, as if striking straight into their souls.

That sound alone seemed to shake them to their core.

But what truly stunned them was Su Cheng’s bearing—an ethereal presence, as though he’d merged with the heavens, transcending the mundane world. Even Sister Qin was awed.

Meanwhile, Han Ya suddenly locked eyes with Su Cheng’s calm, focused gaze.

"He’s got the instinct…"

The result was an instant intoxication, a melting of the heart and limbs as a wave of heat surged from the crown of the head down to every inch of the body. Overwhelmed, the body went limp, the face flushed crimson, the heartbeat racing wildly. Breath grew ragged, the head spun, and for a moment, consciousness nearly slipped away.