Chapter 10: Meng Shiqiao’s Persistence:

For the next two days, Meng Shiqiao kept studying his bow and arrow. Nobody knew if he was possessed or what was wrong with him, but he was completely obsessed.

The family thought it was just a novelty for a day or two, but it had already been three days and he was still at it. Normally, he was the most eager to eat, but these past two days, even calling him to eat was useless.

Only when Meng Ling took out her secret weapon — a bamboo stick — did he obediently come to eat.

“Erwa (second child), why are you messing with this thing every day? Are you really trying to fight that bear to the death?” Shen Shi asked worriedly at the dinner table.

“It’s not about fighting it. You know the saying ‘You can’t have both fish and bear’s paw,’ right? I’m going to use its paw to stew fish,” Meng Shiqiao replied.

“What do you mean ‘can’t have both’? Where did you learn that?” His mother naturally didn’t understand what he meant.

“My sister taught me. It means you can only eat one of chicken leg or pork a day, can’t be too extravagant,” Meng Shiqiao said.

“When did I ever teach you that!” Meng Ling couldn’t stand it and thought, how did this kid understand it that way?

“I don’t care. Once I catch the bear, I’ll stew fish with its paw, then I can eat both chicken leg and meat,” Meng Shiqiao showed his top-notch reasoning ability, arguing.

“Sigh, then keep studying,” Meng Ling said helplessly.

She knew this stubborn fool would never listen once his temper was up. In his past life, he must have been an ox — no wonder he had two whorls on his head.

Meng Ling thought about using her secret weapon to teach him a lesson but decided to let him hit the wall first. Besides, he wasn’t doing anything bad.

“All right, I’ll go ask the old hunter if I can borrow his bow for a few days for you to play with,” Shen Shi said, still feeling sorry for the child and not wanting to see him messing around.

Meng Shiqiao was thrilled. “Really? That’s great! Mom, go quickly. I’ll help you with the sewing!”

“All right, I’ll go right after dinner. Just don’t ruin your sister’s clothes,” she warned.

Soon his mother came back, holding a small bow about half the size of the one used by the hunter Zhang Dashan.

“Uncle Zhang said you can borrow this for a few days, but don’t break it,” Shen Shi handed it to him.

Meng Shiqiao treasured the bow and arrow, looking and touching it carefully.

At that moment, Meng Ling came out of the house. “Oh, you got the bow back. It’s a short bow, quite suitable for you.”

“Sis, take a look,” Meng Shiqiao brought the bow in front of her.

The bow was made of wood and animal horn, probably cow horn, black in color, glued together with some resin, with bowstrings made from animal sinew.

Meng Ling looked for a while and only recognized these details.

She tried pulling the bowstring but could only pull a little before slowly letting go.

“Go ahead and play, but remember, never release the bowstring empty,” Meng Ling reminded.

“What’s releasing empty?” Meng Shiqiao asked.

Meng Ling pulled the bowstring slightly, then suddenly let go. The bowstring vibrated continuously.

“That’s releasing empty. If you do this when the bow is pulled tight, it may break the bow,” she explained.

“Okay, got it,” Meng Shiqiao nodded. Although he didn’t understand the principle, he decided to follow his sister’s advice; otherwise, he couldn’t afford to break it.

Meng Shiqiao took the bow and began to try. Holding the bow with his left hand and pulling the string with his right, he struggled but could only pull halfway, his face flushed red.

Seeing him unable to pull, Meng Ling said, “Feet parallel, shoulder-width apart, turn your head left, push your left hand forward, pull your right hand back.”

“Use your thumb with a thumb ring to hook the string, index finger above the thumb, pull the bowstring below the chin, then turn your head straight, stand straight, then look back to aim at the target, and relax the index finger.”

Her grandfather taught her archery when she was little, but she had too little strength to continue. She only remembered some basic techniques.

There are many ways to pull a bow; she only remembered this one.

“Sis, how do you know this?” Meng Shiqiao was puzzled and unsure if she was right.

“Last time I went to the city to sell honey, a man nearby taught me while he was free,” Meng Ling made up an excuse casually.

Meng Shiqiao thought it sounded reliable; otherwise, he thought his sister was lying.

He followed her instructions carefully. His movements were good, but the bow still wouldn’t pull wide — even narrower than before.

He tried several times but still couldn’t pull the bowstring, beginning to doubt himself and wonder if his method or technique was wrong.

Meng Ling knew it was normal for an eleven-year-old not to pull well; he hadn’t learned how to use strength properly yet.

Meng Shiqiao frowned and came to her. “Sis, what’s wrong? Using your method seems worse.”

Meng Ling stopped her needlework and asked him to try again. She quickly spotted the problem.

“You need to use your shoulders to exert force, not your arms.”

“Like this? I’ll try again.”

Meng Shiqiao immediately ran aside to test it. Things improved a lot.

Meng Ling stitched shoe insoles while occasionally watching her brother shoot arrows. Morning passed quickly.

“Erwa, time to eat!” Meng Ling called out after finishing the food.

“I’m coming!”

This time he rushed inside immediately, just waiting for his dad to start eating.

“Mm, these fried pork bits smell so good,” Meng Shiqiao said while eating.

Meng Ling tried a piece, salty, crispy, with a hint of lard fragrance. With a bowl of fragrant rice, it was simply delicious.

“Eat slowly!” Shen Shi reminded seeing him wolf down the food.

“Okay!”

Meng Shiqiao nodded while continuing to shovel rice.

After eating, Meng Shiqiao practiced shooting in the courtyard repeatedly without feeling tired.

After practicing most of the afternoon, he thought he needed arrows to practice properly.

He made arrows from several long, straight sticks, sharpened one end, carved a notch on the other, and plucked some feathers from the rooster’s wing to tie on the arrow tail.

Two more days passed, Meng Shiqiao kept practicing bow pulling but not all day like before. He exercised for half an hour every morning, gaining strength. His bow pulling looked proper, but he was still far from hunting.

In the courtyard, Meng Ling sat under the eaves sewing shoe insoles.

“Sis, wouldn’t it be great if this bow were mine?” Meng Shiqiao looked at the bow in his hand with a gaze like seeing his beloved, reluctant to let go.

“It’s borrowed; don’t think about not returning it!” Meng Ling warned.

Meng Shiqiao said, “I never said I wouldn’t return it. I don’t even know if it’s expensive or if Uncle Zhang will sell it.”

“Just ask him and you’ll know.”

“Right, I’ll go ask if he’ll sell it.” Saying that, he headed toward Zhang Dashan’s house.

Zhang Dashan was lying in the main room, door open, sleeping.

“Uncle Zhang, Uncle Zhang!” Meng Shiqiao called softly twice.

Zhang Dashan opened his eyes and saw Meng Shiqiao, annoyed, “What?”

“Uncle Zhang, will you sell this bow?”

Sell the bow?

Zhang Dashan lazily replied, “Sell, why not? But…”

“Do you have money?” He looked Meng Shiqiao up and down — where would a kid get money?

“I do! I brought all my New Year’s money.” He pulled out fifteen copper coins from his pocket, which was a lot to him.

“That little? Not even enough for a bowstring!” Zhang Dashan looked down on the coins.

His dad was an old hunter but too old to hunt now. He passed his skills to his two sons, but neither had much talent — they only learned three or four out of ten.

The bow was used by Zhang Dashan as a kid to practice. Though small, a fully drawn bow could shoot and kill within 30 meters.

“How much for your bow?” Meng Shiqiao asked.

“Two hundred and fifty wen (copper coins). You have that?” Zhang Dashan said.

The bow was useless at home now. They only had two daughters and wouldn’t teach any son to hunt, since it was dangerous and might lose a life.

“So expensive?” Meng Shiqiao’s mouth dropped, far exceeding his expectation.

Zhang Dashan said, “If you really want it, since we’re from the same village, I’ll sell it to you for 220 wen. If you want it, go get money from your dad.”

“I’ll go ask my dad,” Meng Shiqiao said, heading out.

“Come back. You’ve borrowed the bow for so many days, it’s time to return it. Don’t cause trouble if it breaks,” Zhang Dashan took the bow back.

“All right,” Meng Shiqiao muttered reluctantly.

Zhang Dashan saw he really liked the bow. If he sold it, great; if not, he could get the bow back to prevent it from never returning.

“Where’s the bow?” Meng Ling saw him return empty-handed and asked.

“He wants it back,” Meng Shiqiao said disappointed.

“How much did he ask?” Meng Ling asked.

“Two hundred and twenty wen,” he answered.

“That’s not cheap, but it’s worth that. Go ask Dad. The money is with him. If you persuade him well, maybe he’ll buy it for you,” Meng Ling encouraged.

This wasn’t a small amount — a farming family’s income was hard-earned.

“I’ll try,” Meng Shiqiao said, running off to find his dad in the fields.