Chapter 42: To Be Friends, To Be Brothers

Hu Shan gulped with difficulty, his large, ox-like eyes staring blankly at Gu Zhenhua. He simply could not fathom how this refined-looking man could possess such immense strength.

Gritting his teeth and steeling his resolve, he stepped up to the stone lock. Mimicking Gu Zhenhua, he set his stance and gripped the lock with his right hand.

"Up!"

The stone lock left the ground, hoisted up by sheer force. The surrounding soldiers couldn't help but cheer. However, Yue Polu, standing to the side, curled his lip in disdain. While Hu Shan had managed to lift the lock, his pace was clearly much faster than Gu Zhenhua’s; in other words, he was still relying on a burst of brute strength, falling far short of Gu Zhenhua’s effortless, weightless grace.

Hu Shan lifted the lock to his chest, then, steeling himself once more, began to lower his arm. Everyone present couldn't help but hold their breath, eyes wide as they watched him.

Success on the first attempt was the easy part; the real challenge lay in whether he could lift it again. As Hu Shan slowly lowered the lock, the muscles in his arm began to tremble uncontrollably.

As the lock touched the ground, Hu Shan exerted force to lift it again, but his arm muscles shook more violently, and his hand began to go numb.

"Ah!"

With a fierce roar, he failed to lift the lock again; instead, it slammed into the ground. Hu Shan staggered back, landing hard on his backside. He gasped for air, his right arm feeling as if it had been severed, completely devoid of strength.

"Hu Shan, you’ve lost this contest. Will you take the beating, or accept the penalty?"

"Lord Gu, I am defeated and convinced. I will do whatever you command!" Though a ruffian, Hu Shan dared not cheat in front of so many men, so he could only grit his teeth and reply.

"Haha, I have always been a generous man. If you choose the beating, according to military law, for showing contempt for your superior and disrupting discipline, that would be one thousand lashes!"

One thousand!

Upon hearing this number, the soldiers nearly collapsed. If carried out with full force, a hundred lashes could kill a man; a thousand would turn him into a pulp of mincemeat.

Hu Shan was terrified and hurriedly shouted, "I choose the penalty!"

"Very well. You will carry a wooden log and run fifty laps around the training field."

"That’s all?" Hu Shan had expected a brutal lesson to serve as a warning to others; he hadn't expected such a lenient punishment. "Heh, Lord Gu, how about a hundred? I grew up in the mountains; running is a piece of cake for me."

"Enough nonsense. I will have Yue Polu watch you. If you take longer than a quarter of an hour, I will add another fifty laps."

Underestimating the difficulty, Hu Shan scrambled up, shouldered a sixty-pound log, and took off running without hesitation. Gu Zhenhua watched him with a cold, inward smile. He would know the meaning of suffering soon enough!

"Is there anyone else who wants to challenge me? I’d be happy to play a little more with my brothers."

***

The soldiers’ spirits were ignited. A tall, thin man stepped forward, distinguished by his long, ape-like arms and eyes of noticeably different sizes. He spoke loudly, "Lord Gu, I would like to challenge you in archery. Do you dare?"

"My Lord," Yue Polu whispered a warning, "his name is Hou Sanhuai. His archery is formidable; many Manchus have died by his hand."

Gu Zhenhua nodded with a smile. "Very well, I shall accept your challenge!"

"Lord Gu, shall we settle this with three arrows?"

"Agreed."

Gu Zhenhua accepted without hesitation. The crowd swarmed around them toward the archery range, where three targets were set up one hundred and twenty paces away. Gu Zhenhua had not brought his own bow, so for the sake of fairness, the soldiers provided new bows for both men.

"My Lord, I shall fire the first arrow. If there are any flaws, please offer your guidance!"

Hou Sanhuai was polite, but as he gripped the bow, an intense confidence radiated from him. He had spent years on the battlefield, and his archery was his life.

Tightening his grip, he nocked the arrow and pulled the bowstring into a perfect crescent. Without seemingly taking aim, he released the string. The arrow streaked through the air and struck the bullseye of the target one hundred and twenty paces away. A roar of cheers erupted from the crowd.

Gu Zhenhua nodded to himself. Hou Sanhuai was indeed a master of the Guanning Army; his archery was sharper and more ruthless than that of his elder brother, Sun Cheng. Only such skill could survive a bloody confrontation with the Manchus.

Gu Zhenhua exhaled, took up his bow, and drew it. He squinted, aimed at the center, and released. His arrow followed a graceful arc and struck the bullseye.

This shot also won cheers, though Hou Sanhuai curled his lip. He had clearly spotted Gu Zhenhua’s weakness: this noble had never fought on a real battlefield, and his technique was not as seasoned as his own.

Hou Sanhuai did not pause. He drew a second arrow and fired it in an instant—another bullseye. Gu Zhenhua had to match his rhythm, but he was slightly slower, and his second shot was marginally off-center.

Hou Sanhuai wore a look of triumph; victory was within his grasp. He fired his third arrow without hesitation, drawing thunderous applause. He cast a provocative glance at Gu Zhenhua.

By now, Gu Zhenhua had nocked his third arrow. But as he touched it, he immediately felt something was wrong. This arrow was significantly heavier than the first two; by his estimate, it shouldn't even reach the target.

Just as Gu Zhenhua hesitated, a wave of mocking laughter rippled through the crowd. This stirred his fighting spirit. He exerted force through his arms and pulled the bow taut, adjusting his angle upward.

Gu Zhenhua poured all his strength into his arms; the sturdy composite bow creaked and groaned. With a sudden release, the heavy arrow tore through the air toward the target.

The moment he released, the bow shattered into two pieces, held together only by the outer silk wrapping.

The bow had broken!

What kind of force was that? The crowd stared in disbelief. Even more shocking was that the arrow had struck the target, but instead of piercing it, it had smashed the target to splinters.

***

That was a hardwood target!

Even a sword might not have been able to cleave it in two, yet it had been shattered by an arrow. One couldn't even imagine the force behind the shot—what would it do to a human body? The soldiers looked at Gu Zhenhua as if he were a monster.

Hou Sanhuai was the most shocked of all. Unable to believe his eyes, he ran to the target and searched through the debris. He found the arrow and clutched it, his face turning deathly pale.

"Lord Gu, I am ignorant. Please, punish me severely!"

Hou Sanhuai knelt before Gu Zhenhua, holding the arrow high above his head with both hands. The soldiers turned their eyes toward the arrow and were equally stunned.

It was a heavy armor-piercing arrow, not a standard feathered arrow. The Manchu archers often used such bolts; within sixty paces, they were lethal.

In the memory of the Guanning soldiers, no one had ever fired such an arrow over one hundred and twenty paces, let alone shattered a target with it. When they looked closer, they saw the arrowhead was deformed, and they stood there with their mouths agape.

After a long while, someone finally regained their senses and shouted, "Who was it? Step forward! Who gave Lord Gu this arrow? Are you trying to ruin the reputation of the Guanning Army?"

"Yes, who was it? Show yourself! Losing is no shame, but we despise those who cheat!"

As the soldiers clamored, a young soldier named Zou Tong tremblingly stepped out, knelt before Gu Zhenhua, and wept, "My Lord, it was me. I put this arrow in your quiver. Please, punish me!"

Gu Zhenhua looked at the young soldier, then at Hou Sanhuai. An opportunity had presented itself—should he use this to make an example of them?

The thought crossed his mind, but Gu Zhenhua shook it off. The Guanning Army did not belong to him, and his cooperation with Wu Sangui was destined to be brief. Building friendships with these soldiers was far better than positioning himself as a harsh disciplinarian. After all, he had less than a month; how could he possibly replace Wu Sangui?

"Hahaha, Zou Tong, your cleverness has backfired. Hou Sanhuai’s archery is truly better than mine. How about this? Since he was implicated by your trick, you both shall carry the logs and run fifty laps. What do you say?"

"Thank you, My Lord, for your great mercy!"

"Thank you, My Lord!"

To compete with a superior was an act of insubordination, and cheating was even worse—both deserved a flogging. They hadn't expected such leniency. The surrounding soldiers couldn't help but give a thumbs-up.

The two men, feeling incredibly lucky, shouldered the logs and took off running, faster than rabbits.

Gu Zhenhua smiled and said, "Brothers, on the battlefield, we are comrades-in-arms, brothers who can trust each other with our lives. You don't need to be so formal with me. Is there anyone else who wants to challenge me?"

"I do!" Four burly men charged forward. The leader, speaking in a muffled voice, said, "Lord Gu, the four of us are Mongols. We know how to wrestle!"

Gu Zhenhua laughed heartily. "Very well, come at me all at once!"