After bidding farewell to the two uncles, everyone lost the inclination to ride and returned directly to the manor.

Upon returning, Murong Guang immediately ordered the horses to be led back to the pasture for feeding, then ushered Wang Guan and Yu Feibai into the living room to discuss the hunting expedition.

“It was really just a game.”

Murong Guang chuckled. “Several of my friends and I have a deep fondness for the ancient lifestyle of bows, horses, riding, and archery. In our modern city, opportunities like that are nonexistent.

But we still craved that experience. However, there are too many protected wild animals in the Northwest to hunt them casually.

So, we put our heads together and decided to simply establish our own private hunting ground.”

“A hunting ground?” Wang Guan exchanged a glance with Yu Feibai, a flicker of understanding dawning between them.

“Precisely, a hunting ground,” Murong Guang said with a warm smile. “We leased several mountains, stocked them with pheasants, wild rabbits, and antelopes, and then hunt for sport.

Autumn is here, the perfect season for a harvest. We are planning to hold a hunting competition to see who is the most skilled.”

“Fascinating.”

Yu Feibai clapped his hands upon hearing this, laughing loudly. “Why didn’t you mention something like this sooner? I would definitely participate.”

“You weren’t here at the right time before, so I naturally didn’t tell you,” Murong Guang replied with a smile. He then reminded them, “However, as I mentioned, only ancient bows and arrows are allowed for the hunt; no modern equipment whatsoever.

After all, the purpose of creating this ground is pure enjoyment, not truly hunting for the sake of hunting.”

“I understand that,” Yu Feibai agreed, grinning. “If it were truly about hunting, a single shot from modern firearms would instantly drop even the fiercest prey.

But with ancient bows and arrows, that’s not a guarantee. Even if the target stood perfectly still, we might still miss.”

“That’s exactly the point,” Murong Guang chuckled. “The difficulty increases the sense of accomplishment when you actually manage to shoot and take down your target. It completely changes the mood.”

“No need to say more, we absolutely have to join.”

As he spoke, Yu Feibai’s brow suddenly furrowed. “But the bows and arrows themselves are a big issue. Big Brother-in-law, do you know where one can buy ancient archery equipment?”

“Haha, you don’t need to buy what you need—I have it right here,” Murong Guang laughed lightly and beckoned them. “Come with me; I’ll show you my collection of ancient bows.”

Led by Murong Guang, the two entered a spacious room.

Wang Guan’s expression shifted to one of slight surprise.

Although he had expected Murong Guang to have quite a few bows.

He had not anticipated this sheer quantity.

Four or five racks filled the room, and on three of the walls hung longbows, each differing in shape and design.

Every bow possessed a unique contour and bizarre styling; it was an overwhelming spectacle that dazzled the eyes.

“So many bows,” Yu Feibai exclaimed in astonishment. “Big Brother-in-law, I had no idea you were an archery collector.”

“Collector? Not really, I just dabble casually,” Murong Guang laughed. “And don’t let these bows look impressive. Many of them are merely showpieces.”

“What do you mean?” Wang Guan and Yu Feibai were puzzled. To them, these bows seemed excellently crafted and of high quality. How could they be considered mere window dressing by Murong Guang?

“Most of these bows are newly made,” Murong Guang explained. “New bows naturally look good on the surface. But to a truly experienced archer, a new bow signifies unstable performance. It requires slow adjustment and familiarization…”

“Oh,” Yu Feibai realized suddenly. “Is that why, even with all these bows, you insisted on buying Uncle Bagan’s ox-horn bow?”

“Precisely, that’s the reason,” Murong Guang admitted with a nod. “The horn bow is decades old, and Uncle Bagan uses it constantly, so its string performance is extremely stable and unlikely to change. That allows for immediate familiarity and mastery.”

“But you two don’t need to worry. While most here are new, I do have a few older bows…” As he spoke, Murong Guang casually selected a few longbows and handed them to Wang Guan and Yu Feibai for inspection.

“I wouldn’t claim these are the absolute best among my collection, but they are definitely the most comfortable to use,” Murong Guang introduced. “Take this bow, for instance. It’s the work of Mr. Yang, the tenth-generation successor of the Juyuan Hao, a national-level intangible cultural heritage item.”

“Juyuan Hao?” Wang Guan was curious. “What’s its background?”

“Think of it as an ancient arsenal,” Murong Guang chuckled. “During the Qing Dynasty, Juyuan Hao was a royal workshop, but by the time of the Republic, firearms became mainstream, and Juyuan Hao was relegated to a civilian workshop.”

“After the founding of the nation, this craft almost vanished. It wasn't until '98 that Mr. Yang inherited the family trade and took control of Juyuan Hao again, becoming the sole inheritor of traditional Chinese archery today.”

At this point, Murong Guang sighed slightly. “Mr. Yang’s craftsmanship is impeccable; he made this bow by hand, so quality is guaranteed. Unfortunately, I only bought this three years ago, and its performance is only marginally stable, which is why I say it’s merely ‘comfortable.’”

“As for performance, I can completely ignore that,” Yu Feibai said with self-awareness. “I’m a novice anyway. As long as I can draw and shoot normally, stability and such are negligible.”

“That’s true…” Murong Guang smiled. “In that case, you should use this Juyuan Hao bow.”

“Deal,” Yu Feibai nodded, then grinned. “Wang Guan has more strength; choose a heavier bow for him. But if you have any of those iron or metal bows, just give him one of those.”

“Get lost,” Wang Guan retorted, recognizing the teasing intent in Yu Feibai’s voice. He rolled his eyes before turning back with a smile. “No iron bows. Give me a nimble bamboo and wood bow instead.”

“A nimble bamboo bow…” Murong Guang considered, then walked to a nearby rack and retrieved a longbow, smiling. “How about this one?”

Wang Guan took the longbow to examine it. The body was quite long, perhaps 130 centimeters, wrapped in leather, and coated in black lacquer. It looked ancient yet exuded refinement in every detail.

“I don’t have any pure bamboo bows here; this is a mulberry wood bow,” Murong Guang clarified. “But this bow is quite unique. An archery enthusiast designed it by referencing bow-making methods from around the world, synthesizing them with his own understanding, resulting in this composite piece.”

“Hmm?” Wang Guan and Yu Feibai exchanged glances, their expressions turning slightly odd.

“Hey, don’t assume this bow is inferior,” Murong Guang shook his head. “There’s a saying online: ‘Tech geeks change the world.’ It might be an exaggeration, but never underestimate the skill of self-taught masters. He might not have Mr. Yang’s master-level finesse, and the details aren't perfectly polished, but the quality of a bow he meticulously crafted is certainly not poor.”

“Oh,” Wang Guan and Yu Feibai nodded lightly, though their expressions remained noncommittal.

“Don’t think I’m just talking nonsense,” Murong Guang said earnestly. “This bow has immense penetration power. Within a hundred paces, it can easily pierce a two-inch-thick target.”

“Really?” Yu Feibai was skeptical. “Have you tested it yourself?”

“Uh, I can’t,” Murong Guang laughed awkwardly. “This bow’s draw weight is too immense; the string is so tight I can only pull it back a small fraction.”

Hearing this, Yu Feibai immediately took the bow from Wang Guan’s hand. Without immediately attempting to draw, he first examined the string closely. It appeared very tight, slightly thicker than a standard bowstring, and possessed a degree of translucency; the material was unclear.

“I’m not sure what the material is either,” Murong Guang shook his head. “It might be some kind of refined animal sinew mixed and processed. Whatever it is, it’s incredibly tough and difficult to draw.”

“Let me try…” At this moment, Yu Feibai took a deep breath, holding the bow in one hand and gripping the string with the other. He slowly exerted force, pulling the string back slightly. However, when he tried to draw further, his arm began to tremble. His fingertips turned completely white, and the string fibers seemed to cut into his skin, sinking into the flesh.

“Ah!” Moments later, Yu Feibai gave up, shaking his fingers while stubbornly protesting, “It’s not that I can’t draw it; the string is too tight and hurts my hand. If you gave me a thumb ring, I could draw it to a full moon.”

“You should have said so earlier,” Murong Guang chuckled softly, opening a nearby drawer and producing a tray. On the tray lay a neat arrangement of thumb rings.

The materials of these rings varied—gold, silver, bronze, iron, as well as bamboo, wood, ivory, and bone—yet every piece was exquisitely carved, displaying a warm patina on the surface.

Both Wang Guan and Yu Feibai, being experienced men, immediately recognized these rings as genuine antiques. More importantly, these were utilitarian items meant for protection, not mere ornaments. There was a clear distinction; for example, the yellow jade thumb ring depicting the ‘Hundred Steeds’ in Wang Guan’s collection was purely ornamental. Murong Guang’s collection, however, consisted of rings genuinely used for protecting the hand during shooting.

Generally, ornamental rings fetched higher prices, as they were worn by nobility, requiring superior materials and elaborate carvings of poetry or patterns on the exterior, thus commanding greater value. Practical rings were certainly not worthless, but their price was relatively lower. Therefore, seeing a tray of functional rings, Wang Guan and Yu Feibai felt only slight surprise, not shock.

“Here are the guards; pick one yourself,” Murong Guang, truly well-prepared, gestured and offered advice. “Based on my experience, rings made of ivory or horn are usually more comfortable to use. They aren't as hard as metal, nor as soft as bamboo or wood—just the right weight and texture…”

“Fine, I’ll pick a deer bone one,” Yu Feibai didn't stand on ceremony, immediately selecting a light brown ring marked with eye-like spots.

(To be continued…)