Common Tongue

Actually, spotting an expert is simple—just look at how many people are gathered around. A true master always draws plenty of attention.

Chen Shouyi wasn't in a hurry to practice. He watched one after another.

Then he stopped. A large crowd had gathered ahead, and even several nearby archery hall coaches kept glancing over.

It was a middle-aged man with a cold expression and a lean, wiry build. Under his casual short-sleeved athletic shirt, his exposed arm muscles were taut and dense, like twisted steel cables. Every time he loosed an arrow, it let out a sharp, piercing whistle.

His movements were rhythmic, carrying a certain cadence. Though his shooting pace was unhurried, it gave the impression of flowing water—smooth and unbroken.

Chen Shouyi stood quietly watching for a long while, then walked to the rest area, leaned back in a seat, and closed his eyes as if resting. He sat there for two full hours. When he opened his eyes, the middle-aged man was already gone.

But he didn't mind. He had already gotten what he needed.

"How can I help you?"

"I want a three-hundred-pound bow."

Chen Shouyi picked up a bow and three quivers, then walked to an empty stall.

He tested the bow's draw weight. For his current strength, it felt a bit light, but he didn't bother switching. A three-hundred-pound bow was already the standard for a male Martial Apprentice exam.

Generally, an ordinary adult could only draw a forty- to fifty-pound recurve bow. Anything over a hundred pounds crossed from hunting bow into War Bow territory. At three hundred pounds, its power in short to medium range rivaled that of a rifle.

Like swordsmanship, archery had its own standard techniques for power generation and movement. But compared to swordsmanship, it was much simpler—it relied more on eyesight, instinct, and prediction. There weren't many tricks to it. Aside from natural talent, it was all about practice—repeated, relentless practice.

For someone as skilled in swordsmanship as he was, getting started posed no difficulty at all.

He closed his eyes and recalled the middle-aged man's muscle memory from the Memory Space.

The next moment, he opened his eyes and drew the bow, loosing an arrow.

The motion was fluid, seamless, utterly flawless.

The arrow shot out with a sharp whoosh and vanished without a trace.

Chen Shouyi shook his head and fired again. This time, it hit the target—but only the outermost ring.

Third arrow: another miss.

Fourth arrow: three rings.

By the fifth arrow, he was consistently hitting the target.

He kept drawing and firing. With his formidable stamina and endless strength, the three-hundred-pound bow was almost effortless—he barely felt any drain.

Before long, all three quivers were empty.

He retrieved the arrows, adjusted the target distance, and resumed shooting without a break.

For safety, each shooting stall was separated by walls, so he could fetch arrows anytime.

His scores improved visibly. By the time the archery hall closed, his archery skill had risen from (Uninitiated) to Initiate (10).

At 9:30 PM, he tucked his briefcase under his arm and returned to the hotel.

Just as he was about to head upstairs, the front desk called out, "Handsome, your package arrived."

"Oh, thanks!" Chen Shouyi thanked them, took the package, and hurried back to his room.

He shut the door, sat on the bed, and tore open the package. Inside were three thick books:

Common Dialogue for Interacting with Barbarians

Otherworld Common Language Dictionary

Learn Barbarian Language Through Pictures

For some reason, within the regions currently explored by human nations, the language of the otherworld seemed to be universal. No matter how far apart two Barbarian Tribes were, whether they worshipped Deities or not, or even if they were entirely different intelligent beings from barbarians—their language was nearly identical.

It was an utterly incomprehensible phenomenon, defying human logic.

Countless scientists had conducted endless research on it. Only in recent years, with the rapid development of genetics, had a somewhat plausible explanation emerged. Studies found that the number of effective gene segments related to language in these beings was enormous—dozens of times greater than in humans. Yet their linguistic ability was no stronger than a human's.

In evolutionary terms, this was a severe waste, a massive redundancy.

Some scientists speculated a startling hypothesis: their genes might be capable of inheriting linguistic information.

But since its proposal, this hypothesis had remained highly controversial, because it led to an even more mind-boggling conclusion.

That all Otherworld Creatures shared a single origin.

Not an origin like Earth's—the first organic molecule born from the primordial oceanic soup.

The "origin" of otherworld life was at least an intelligent being capable of verbal communication. After "it" fell, "its" cells and genes began to spread. Countless lives then derived and evolved from that foundation.

And "its" language was inherited through genes.

But for Chen Shouyi, no matter how mysterious or bizarre the origin of otherworld life might be, at least he didn't have to worry that the Shell Girl's language was some obscure minority tongue that would leave him helpless.

Thinking of the Shell Girl, he quickly opened his newly bought briefcase.

He pulled out the bound Shell Girl.

He tore off the tape stuck to her mouth and cut the ropes binding her hands and feet.

The Shell Girl stretched her limbs, shot Chen Shouyi a resentful glare, then turned her head away with an angry expression. But the moment he handed her a colorful glass bead, her face lit up with joy.

She held it up to the light, watching the shifting, mesmerizing colors. The more she looked, the more she loved it. Sitting on the edge of the table, her feet began to swing back and forth.

These glass beads were the kind kids used for stringing necklaces—thirty yuan for a big box. Chen Shouyi bought one, which contained at least several hundred beads in all sorts of colors. He figured they'd last him a long time.

After feeding her honey, he set her down by the pillow, turned on the TV, and switched to a cartoon.

Then he left her alone.

She was now completely hooked on television, especially cartoons. Even though she couldn't understand the language, the visuals alone kept her utterly absorbed, her eyes fixed without blinking.

As for Chen Shouyi, he picked up the simplest book, Learn Barbarian Language Through Pictures, and began seriously studying the Otherworld language.

After a while, he suddenly said to the Shell Girl, "Bozhaluokebaduo!"

In the book, that phrase meant: "We are friends!"

But the Shell Girl acted as if she hadn't heard, her eyes glued to the cartoon, completely focused.

Chen Shouyi grabbed the remote, turned off the TV, and repeated himself.

The Shell Girl was furious. She stood up, hands on her hips, and shouted loudly, "Beiqi! Beiqi! Beiqi!"

She wasn't all that afraid of this giant anymore. As long as she found him enough golden sand, no matter how bold she got, he wouldn't interfere—except when she was tied up and locked away.

"Beiqi?" Chen Shouyi didn't mind her anger at all. He listened carefully to her tiny voice, silently repeating it in his mind, then quickly pulled out the dictionary and searched by pronunciation. But after a long time, he still couldn't figure out what it meant.

Had he misheard the pronunciation?

"Beiqi, Taiqi, Peiqi, Peiqi!"

"Peiqi!"

Just then, he suddenly remembered the cartoon she'd been watching. A flash of insight hit him: "Peppa Pig!"