Chapter 5: Bitter? Not Bitter

"You mentioned how long he can keep this up?"

During a break, several young people gathered and spoke in hushed tones.

"It's been two days."

"Two days? I'd say one day is enough. Haven't you noticed that he can barely lift his right hand after less than an hour? Honestly, he'll probably give up by this afternoon."

"You're right. I remember when I practiced archery for a day; that night, I couldn't even hold a bowl, and my fingers were peeling."

"Hey, who hasn't experienced that? Comparatively, gun practice is easier. It would be even better if we had pistols."

"You've got a point. The prices of firearms have been driven up by those unscrupulous traders. One bullet of that size is equivalent to several catties of grain. It's outrageous!"

As they chatted, the topic shifted from Chen Fan to other matters.

Chen Fan was feeling overwhelmed at the moment. His physical condition wasn't up to par. Every time he drew the bowstring to its fullest, he had to exert all his strength. After a series of attempts, his entire right arm shook uncontrollably, feeling disconnected from his body.

But the advantage was the noticeable increase in proficiency.

[Basic Archery: LV0 (28%)]

He had come close to hitting the bull's-eye once, which had suddenly boosted his progress by 5%.

Chen Fan took a deep breath, lifted his numb right arm again, and pulled the bowstring. This time, however, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't fully draw the bowstring.

The arrow flew from his hand, landing three or four meters away in the ground.

"Kid, are you daft? Don't you know when to take a break when you're out of strength?" The lame man's voice rang out.

Chen Fan turned and gave him an embarrassed smile. "Uncle Zhang is right. I'll take a break."

He sighed, realizing that pushing too hard was counterproductive. Though he wanted to maximize his proficiency, his current physical condition wouldn't allow it.

"Come here. I'll massage your arm," the lame man offered.

This time, not only Chen Fan but also the young people nearby were surprised. Their expressions seemed to say, "Don't we get a massage when we practice archery?"

"Cut," the lame man scoffed. "You guys call this practicing archery? Weaklings. Those who know think you're practicing, those who don't think you're playing with cotton."

The young people blushed, recalling the times they'd tried their hand at archery and ended up with sore arms they couldn't lift.

"This..." Chen Fan said sheepishly, "Uncle Zhang, do you really have to do this?"

"If you don't want to lift your pants when you go to the bathroom later, then yes," the lame man replied, shrugging.

Chen Fan winced but reluctantly said, "Alright, Uncle Zhang, I'll trouble you."

The lame man muttered, "I wish I hadn't offered; there's too much to do."

Despite his gruff words, the concern in the lame man's actions was evident to anyone not entirely clueless. Chen Fan realized that his father had always worked hard to ensure the survival of the village's residents, regardless of age or gender.

"Boy, listen to Uncle Zhang's advice. Archery is no easy skill to master. Even if you can hit the bull's-eye every time now, hitting a moving target in the wilderness is a different challenge."

The lame man glanced at the longbow and spoke earnestly.

"Uncle Zhang, I understand. But if I give up now, won't I be quitting halfway?" Chen Fan looked into the lame man's eyes with determination. The progress bar for basic archery was close to 30%, and giving up now would mean starting from scratch. All the effort would be wasted.

The lame man nodded. "Indeed."

With that resolved, the lame man left, leaving Chen Fan to continue his practice.

The young people nearby, though initially skeptical, watched Chen Fan with newfound respect. His relentless determination was unmatched in the village.

Time passed slowly, and at noon, Chen Fan returned for lunch. The meal consisted of the same porridge as the previous night, though this time, the woman serving him added an extra spoonful.

"Xiaofan, if it's too hard, you can stop," she said, looking at his red, aching hands with concern.

Chen Fan smiled and shook his head. Bitter? It wasn't bitter at all; he was truly enjoying himself.

He drank the porridge quickly and returned to his archery practice, leaving behind a worried mother and a puzzled younger brother.

"Oh well, there's no choice. Time is running out, and we must make the most of it," Chen Fan sighed. The camp was already precarious, and another disaster could be catastrophic. His past experiences had taught him that fortune and misfortune often ebbed and flowed, and he needed to mature quickly.

He continued his practice, occasionally glancing at his attribute panel.

After a whole morning of practice, the proficiency in basic archery had reached 52%. Barring any setbacks, he would reach level 1 by nightfall.

By then, he anticipated significant changes!