Chapter Twenty-Five: Da Zhuang Joins the Battle with His Bow, Audience Admitted by Ticket

As the first rays of sunlight broke through the dawn, the eagerly anticipated “First Archer of Deer-Crane Ravine Tournament” finally began in earnest.

That night, Li Dazhuang barely slept at all.

“Relax, Dazhuang. Treat it like any other hunt in the mountains—just with more people watching, that’s all. Take it easy…” Li Sixi murmured as he kneaded his son’s shoulders. It had been years since he spoke to his son with such warmth.

Li Dazhuang couldn’t respond, only gripping his bow tightly.

He’d barely eaten that morning. It wasn’t until they arrived at the archery field that he uttered his first words of the day:

“So… so many people!”

He’d known there would be crowds, but this was far more than he expected.

It wasn’t harvest season, so everyone with a bit of free time had come to watch: farmers with hoes slung over their shoulders, peasant women cradling infants, tenant farmers and day laborers from the local landowner’s estate, even the village elder—who hadn’t left his house in decades—had hobbled over with his cane.

The fault lay in Xu Wenshan’s brilliant publicity.

Deer-Crane Ravine was just a small place, where almost everyone was related in some way. Greetings rang out everywhere—“Hey! Second Uncle!” “Third Aunt, you’re here too?”—filling the field’s periphery with a lively clamor.

Among the crowd were archers with bows slung across their backs, exuding a fierce air. They stood silently, arms folded, and the villagers instinctively gave them a wide berth, leaving clear space all around them.

Li Dazhuang glanced at these archers; they all seemed to be seasoned hunters. He alone was so young, with his father still at his side cheering him on. Embarrassment crept over him.

Just as the crowd began to grumble about the delay in opening the field, Xu family’s servant, Ah Fa, hoisted a straw platform to the entrance, climbed atop it, and shouted, “Everyone, quiet, please!”

“Quiet! Quiet, please!”

Once the noise gradually died down, Ah Fa called out, “Attention, everyone! There are too many people here today—the field won’t hold so many. When arrows start flying, someone could get hurt, and that would be bad for everyone. So, we’ve decided to charge admission! One copper coin to enter the field!”

At this, the crowd nearly overturned the straw platform. Uproar filled the air, with everyone shouting their protests.

Ah Fa shouted for quiet until he was hoarse, and only then did the commotion subside a little.

“Listen up! It’s not that you can’t watch if you don’t pay! You still can, but you’ll have to watch from outside the field. In a moment, Xiaocui will lead you to a safe spot where you’ll have a clear view. Watch as much as you like! But only those who pay one coin can enter! And if you pay five coins, you can sit in the VIP section—with tea, a shaded pavilion, and pastries!”

At these words, the crowd erupted even more, hurling curses: “Five coins? What kind of tea is worth five coins?” “I wouldn’t pay a single coin, let alone five!”

Just then, a deep, booming voice called out, “Such a good deal? I’ll take a VIP seat—no, make that eight!”

Everyone turned to look, and the chatter abruptly ceased. Someone, caught up in the moment, started to curse, “Which idiot—” but was quickly silenced by a neighbor’s hand over his mouth.

The voice belonged to Xu Changshui!

Xu Changshui had brought his seven wives to watch the competition.

But the crowd soon understood—it was the Xu family’s field, their own kin, so of course they could watch as they liked.

What happened next, however, took everyone by surprise. Xu Changshui casually handed Ah Fa a string of coins and said, “Count them.”

Ah Fa counted quickly. “Eight people, five coins each, forty coins. It’s all here.” He slung the money over his arm and opened the gate for Xu Changshui.

Xu Changshui strode in grandly, followed by Xu Wenshan’s several stepmothers. The rest of the crowd exchanged glances—was he really charging his own father?

Forty coins—that was a whole bushel of white rice!

“Hahaha… How interesting! I’ll take eight VIP seats as well!”

Another voice rang out. It was Guo Xin, head of the Guo family.

The Xu family was the old aristocracy of Deer-Crane Ravine, while the Guo family was the rising star. No wonder they wanted VIP seats; how could they let the Xu family outshine them in any regard?

Once the Guo family entered, someone called out, “We’re here to compete—do we have to pay as well?”

Ah Fa hastily replied, “Of course not! Competitors, please follow the staff over there to the waiting area where you’ll prepare for the contest.”

These words—“competitor,” “staff”—were, of course, Xu Wenshan’s invention. He used them so often that everyone around him had picked them up unconsciously.

The archers nodded and followed another servant away. The rest of the crowd either paid to enter or followed Xiaocui to the viewing area outside.

This was just a minor episode—the true event of the day was about to begin.

…

At this moment, Guo Xin swaggered to the VIP section with his sons and sat down.

The Guo family had many sons; in recent years, their fortunes had flourished, and they’d acquired much land. Though they couldn’t rival the Xu family, they were a notable clan nonetheless.

The so-called VIP section was simply a makeshift pavilion beneath the only ancient tree in the field, furnished with small stools and a battered teapot on the table.

Guo Xin took a swig straight from the pot, then spat it out, exclaiming loudly, “Haven’t tasted such rough tea in over a decade—hard to swallow, I must say.”

No one else responded. When Guo Xin saw he was being ignored, he started searching for other topics—complaining about the scorching sun, then about the uneven ground.

Guo Xin grumbled on in the back row, while the Xu family sat in front, unmoved.

A while later, Xu Wenshan hurried in, bow and arrows in hand. Only then did Xu Changshui break into a smile and rise to greet him.

“Father.”

“Well,” said Xu Changshui, “haven’t seen you for a while—you’ve grown taller.”

After greeting his stepmothers, Xu Wenshan was hailed by Guo Xin. “Isn’t this my dear nephew Wenshan? You’ve grown, haven’t you?”

Xu Wenshan bowed, but before he could reply, Guo Xin continued:

“So you’re saying first prize is fifty strings of cash—can that be true?”

“Of course it’s true,” Xu Wenshan replied.

Guo Xin burst out laughing. “Come now, nephew, don’t tease your old uncle. I was a young master once myself—I know how these things work!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Xu Wenshan said.

Guo Xin winked. “You’re just having a laugh at these peasants’ expense, aren’t you? There’s no fifty strings of cash, is there?”

“There certainly is,” Xu Wenshan said firmly. “Whoever takes first place—no matter who—will receive fifty strings of cash.”

He paused, raising the bow in his hand. “See? I’m entering the contest myself for a chance at that prize.”