Heaven's Gifts Surpass Human Art

This went on for over ten seconds—

"Phew..."

Su Cheng turned around to find Li Guanqi had already vanished. Finally catching his breath, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and hastily climbed out of the pool.

"Damn, do you even know what the blue liquid is?" Wang Guancong walked over, tossing him a towel, his tone laced with curiosity. "The pool has chemicals that turn blue when they react with certain liquids."

"Huh? What liquid?"

Su Cheng feigned ignorance.

"It's pee, obviously!"

"No way, really?" Su Cheng glanced around the pool, confirming Li Guanqi was indeed gone, then played dumb. "I had no idea. I thought it was some water-purifying solution."

"No wonder." Wang Guancong urged, "Let’s go rinse off."

The three of them quickly showered and changed. By the time they settled back into their chairs, it was nearly three o'clock—time for club activities. Su Cheng bid them farewell, straightened his clothes, and dashed toward the dojo.

Archery Club.

The moment Su Cheng stepped into the Archery Club that day, he could immediately sense the unusually tense and heavy atmosphere.

Everyone was engrossed in training. Sensing Su Cheng’s gaze, one of the female archers suddenly looked up at him, her expression puzzled.

"Su Cheng, is something wrong?" Li Shishi asked gently. She wasn’t particularly close to him; her only memory of him was from when she’d escorted him to find the club president some time ago. Beyond that, they’d had no interaction.

Moreover, Su Cheng usually headed straight for the president’s area without lingering. This time, however, he’d stopped voluntarily and even seemed deeply concerned, which struck her as odd.

"Um..." Su Cheng smiled sheepishly. "Senior, if you don’t mind me asking, why is the mood so serious today?"

As soon as he asked, every member in the club paused and turned to stare at him. The male members’ gazes were especially curious, bewildered, and tinged with an indescribable mix of envy and resentment.

Though Su Cheng was technically a member of the Archery Club, to them, he felt more like the club president’s personal disciple. His status and privileges far surpassed those of an ordinary member, leaving them both intrigued and jealous.

They could barely even approach the president, let alone speak to her casually—let alone receive such favor!

"Oh, you mean this." Li Shishi reached into her pocket and handed Su Cheng a list. "The annual archery competition is coming up. Here’s the registration form. You can take a look too."

"Archery competition?!" Su Cheng’s heart skipped a beat. "When?"

"In three weeks." Li Shishi paused. "If you’re interested in participating, you’ll need to submit your information a week in advance."

"Thanks."

Su Cheng nodded and carefully examined the form. It detailed various events for the competition.

As he focused on reading, a club member suddenly interjected, "Su Cheng, correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve only been practicing archery for a short while. You’re not seriously thinking of joining a professional competition, are you?"

Su Cheng looked up to see a male student from his grade, with everyone else also watching him, awaiting his response.

After a brief moment of thought, he turned to Li Shishi. "If I wanted to sign up for the individual event, what’s the process?"

The moment he spoke, whispers erupted around him. Many members’ expressions grew complicated, filled with doubt and skepticism.

"Su Cheng, are you serious? This isn’t a joke. Every competitor here is skilled, especially in the individual events."

"Yeah, you’ve barely been in the club."

"Do you realize every participant goes through rigorous selection? This competition isn’t just about individuals—it represents the club and our school’s honor. We don’t even have enough spots as it is, so think carefully."

The members bombarded him with well-meaning advice, but their underlying message was clear: they had little faith in him and didn’t want him wasting a precious spot.

Who could compete professionally after just half a month of training?

Even with the club president’s personal guidance, this seemed absurd. To them, it was an insult to their years of dedication.

They agonized over whether they were ready to compete, yet Su Cheng treated it so lightly?

How could they accept that?

Su Cheng fell silent, frowning as he stared at the registration form, lost in thought.

"Su Cheng, I get that you might be impulsive, but please consider the club."

One male member stepped forward, his tone stern. "Archery is our shared dream. It’s not some game you can just jump into for fun!"

"I’m sorry for being rash," Su Cheng apologized sincerely, but then added firmly, "But archery is my dream too. I know I haven’t trained as long as you all, but I don’t want to miss this chance. Please let me register."

His words were earnest, devoid of any insincerity, softening some of the members’ hearts. Even those who’d opposed him earlier began hesitating.

"Then how would you rate your archery skills?"

Li Shishi sighed inwardly, her expression softening as she asked.

"Well... I don’t have a clear benchmark. But with two weeks left before the competition, I’ll do my best to improve."

Su Cheng hesitated before adding, "Of course, I’d really appreciate everyone’s help."

"Hah, you’re at least humble."

Li Shishi shook her head, then smiled. "Have you done archery before?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Uh..."

Su Cheng looked conflicted.

Finally, he reluctantly held up two fingers.

"Two years of experience?!"

The members gasped, their expressions turning strange.

Su Cheng awkwardly shook his head.

"Two months? Not bad."

They exhaled in relief, nodding approvingly. Two months of foundational training was decent.

"You should’ve said so earlier!"

"Right, with two months under your belt and the president’s coaching, competing shouldn’t be a problem."

"Exactly."

As the chatter continued, Su Cheng grew increasingly awkward, unsure whether to correct them or let it slide. But he never lied—he always told the truth. So he shook his head again.

"Two weeks?"

Su Cheng shook his head once more.

"What? It can't be two days, right?"

"Ah, just two days?!" The crowd was stunned when Su Cheng shook his head again. What kind of joke was this?

"No, no, you’ve misunderstood."

Su Cheng hurriedly explained, "That’s not it."

"I knew it… There’s no way…"

One of the club members let out a relieved sigh and shook his head, but then his expression froze instantly as he pressed further, "Are those two fingers supposed to mean twenty years?"

"No, I’ve only shot two arrows in my life."

Su Cheng answered with complete seriousness.

"Cough…"

More than one person choked on their breath, and some even felt their cerebellums shrivel up on the spot.

Immediately, someone glared at Su Cheng in outrage, "Are you messing with us?!"

"How can you even say something like that with a straight face?"

"You might as well have said nothing!"

"Seniors, please don’t be angry."

Su Cheng flusteredly tried to explain, "I really have only shot two arrows, but that still counts as experience, right?"

"Please believe me." He paused before continuing, "But I have a natural talent for this. I’ll definitely meet the competition standards within half a month."

Hearing this, everyone fell silent. They couldn’t deny the existence of talent—after all, if he didn’t have any, how could the club president have taken him in as a personal disciple?

But—

Su Cheng needed to prove it with actions!

And they all wanted to know exactly what made him so special that the president would break the rules and accept him as the club’s only personal disciple.

"Since you’ve decided to compete, we won’t stop you. But you’ll have to show us some actual proof of this so-called talent of yours. That way, everyone will be convinced. Fair, right?"

"Right, exactly."

"Makes sense."

The others quickly agreed.

"Oh? How should I prove it?" Su Cheng looked slightly troubled, thinking to himself: Seems like I have no choice but to show off a little.

"There are bows and arrows over there—"

But before the words could even fully leave the speaker’s mouth, it was as if a spell had been cast. The voice cut off abruptly, and the air seemed to freeze solid.

The person’s body stiffened, as if frozen in fear, not even daring to breathe.

The others’ faces instantly turned pale, like startled birds, and they hastily lowered their heads, as if the heated argument from moments ago had never happened.

"Then I’ll embarrass myself. If I make any mistakes, please feel free to point them out, seniors. Thank you!" After saying this, Su Cheng’s gaze followed the direction of the pointing finger and landed on the pile of bows and arrows in the corner.

His attention was immediately drawn to the arrows, completely oblivious to the sudden shift in the club’s atmosphere—he just really wanted to touch a bow again and relive that feeling from before.

But just as he was about to take a step forward, he suddenly felt a pair of hands clamp down on his shoulders, holding him firmly in place, rendering him completely immobile.