But today I will show them what killing means like killing chickens and dogs."

After saying that, he asked the people behind him who knew how to use the bow.

Everyone looked around and pointed at the dark, lean man next to Zhang Chong.

This person is Zhang Hong's second uncle, named Zhang Ernan, the second eldest son. He has no children yet and only lives in the mountains.

The hunting bow Zhang Hong saw the other day belonged to him.

This is an honest man. Perhaps he has been in the mountains for a long time and appears to be taciturn.

Seeing that everyone was pushing him, he didn't refuse. He glanced at the bearded man and nodded.

"Win! There is still one pot thrower left. This requires dexterity."

He glanced at Zhang Chong and said, "It's up to you."

Zhang Chong opened his mouth, looked at everyone again, and had to agree.

"Okay, let's go!"

————————————————————

The first pot pitching match on yellow clay

At this time, two throwing pots and an arrow had been brought to the field.

Zhang Hong glanced at Zhang Chong, who was only wearing calf-nose pants, and smiled.

"Okay, it's Shi Zaizi. Then save time, one arrow will determine the outcome, and you won't be full. Don't freeze the baby."

After saying that, he drew the arrow, walked five steps back, turned around and threw the arrow away, and the arrow was accurately inserted into the mouth of the pot.

Old Man Zhang smiled slightly and then froze.

The arrow that was thrown in was so powerful that it bounced out, slipped on the mouth of the pot, and fell to the yellow mud ground.

When Zhang Hong was young, he could shoot a flying halberd with perfect accuracy, and even when he was an old man, he never failed to pull it down.

The wooden targets in Zhuangzi are covered with his practice halberds.

But because I was used to throwing the hand halberd, I used more force.

Although Old Man Zhang felt embarrassed, it didn't matter. After all, it was a dispensable competition.

Now, opportunities and pressure are given to Zhang Chong.

The original Zhang Chong must have never played pot throwing. This thing was used by the upper class for banquets and entertainment.

He, Zhang Chong, is just a farmer, so how can he have such skill?

But now Zhang Chong is familiar with this.

Because when he was in college, there were some vendors who set up this night stall to sell ring games, and they would give out whatever they got. The principles of the two were similar.

At that time, Zhang Chong was in love. In order to show off in front of his girlfriend, he spent a lot of money and gained some experience.

This set of rings focuses on the closing force.

If you control your strength well and point your head accurately, you will have a greater chance of winning.

Zhang Chong followed Old Man Zhang's example and drew an arrow and walked five steps.

I turned around, stood still, breathed, prayed in my heart, looked at the pot, and roughly calculated the parabola.

Concentrate, hold your breath, and shake your hands.

An arrow floated lightly, tracing a graceful curve, and hit the pot right in the middle.

"Hit! What a boy!"

Everyone who had been nervous before now jumped up.

Even my father, who often looked miserable, jumped so high.

"It's a hit, it's a hit, my baby is my baby. Haha!"

Even Zhang Heizi, who had been burying his face on the ground, struggled to get up, but was held back by the steps behind him.

Zhang Chong looked at these poor farmers, cheering for himself and feeling happy for himself. They were his family in this life.

A sense of belonging gradually arises in my heart.

Suddenly, Zhang Chong saw a distorted pop-up window appear in the void in the upper right corner.

"Defeat Zhang Hong, inherit his skill - halberd throwing, master it"
Chapter completed!