After Zhang Jing'an thought it through, he did not blame Ma Zhilong. Instead, he felt that this teacher was at least open and upright, a true scholar.
As they approached the drill ground, Fang Yun and Ma Zhilong maintained their steady strides, but Zhang Jing'an's steps grew uneven, his little face full of worry.
Zhang Jing'an knew that the Six Arts were rites, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics, and that archery included the "Five Shots."
Had this been ten years ago, Zhang Jing'an would have believed his father had the better chance of winning. But Zhang Longxiang had spent ten years in prison. However profound his learning, his archery would have grown rusty. He had indeed used arrows during his recent stay in the military camp, but he had only practiced for a month.
As the head of Zhurong Academy, Ma Zhilong surely practiced the Six Arts diligently.
With Zhang Jing'an fretting, Fang Yun and Headmaster Ma reached the drill ground and entered a room beside it together to choose bows and arrows.
Each carried a bow and arrows, with a quiver on his back, as they entered the archery grounds.
Ma Zhilong stopped behind a line and looked ahead. "The targets ahead are thirty zhang from here. We shall each take the target directly opposite us and compete in the Five Shots. Any objections?"
Zhang Jing'an and the children who had followed them clicked their tongues in amazement. Ordinary archery contests were generally held at a distance of ten zhang. Thirty zhang tested far too many things-not only arm strength and accuracy, but also experience and the ability to calculate. After all, thirty zhang was so far that an ordinary person would need more than ten breaths even to run that distance.
"No objections," Fang Yun said. "But