Hunting Reaches Perfection

Gurgle!

Feng Chen drank the porridge Lin Qing'er had cooked.

The coarse grain porridge was thicker than yesterday's, carrying the hearty fragrance of food cooked over a wood-fired stove.

He raised the bowl and gulped it down. The warmth slid into his stomach, finally easing much of the hunger that had plagued him for most of the night.

Setting down the bowl, he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and let out a satisfied breath.

"Husband, was that enough?" Lin Qing'er asked.

"Enough!" Feng Chen nodded.

The two of them then tidied up together, gathering the bowls and chopsticks onto the kitchen stove, blowing out the oil lamp, and going to rest.

The night passed without incident.

Early the next morning, when only a sliver of fish-belly white had appeared over the eastern hills, Feng Chen got up.

He pushed open the wooden door, and a cold wind rushed toward him, carrying the scent of dew and fresh grass.

He took a deep breath of the crisp air and instantly became fully awake.

Lin Qing'er rose as well.

Today, she had to turn over the soil in the fields before the sun came out.

Otherwise, the seeds would not grow well after they were planted.

The two washed up simply, then made do with breakfast.

Seeing the faint redness at the tip of Lin Qing'er's nose, Feng Chen said, "Qing'er, I need to go up the mountain to hunt today."

Lin Qing'er looked up at him. She opened her mouth, hesitated for a moment, then said, "Husband, why don't you rest for another two days before going? Your injuries..."

Feng Chen smiled, stood up, and swung his arms around twice for her to see. "I'm completely healed. It's nothing. Look, there's nothing wrong with me at all."

That was no lie.

Last night, his Basic Fist Technique had reached Perfection, strengthening his body. The lingering pain from his bruises had vanished completely, leaving him feeling indescribably light and nimble.

Moreover, he had to go hunting. Hunting would get him more meat to nourish his body. If he caught enough, he could also take it to town to sell for money and exchange it for better necessities.

He could also see whether he could buy a couple of martial arts manuals.

Lin Qing'er carefully examined his complexion. He truly looked much rosier than he had in the past few days, and his eyes were bright as well. He did not seem to be forcing himself.

So she said nothing more, merely giving a soft hum before lowering her head and continuing to tidy up.

Feng Chen began preparing his hunting gear.

He took the old wooden bow down from the wall and ran his hand over the bowstring, making sure the animal sinew was neither frayed nor broken.

He had pulled all the arrows back last night. He inspected them one by one, checking whether the arrowheads were loose and whether the shafts were cracked. He set several unsteady ones aside and tied the good ones back into a bundle.

He also took a firewood-chopping knife.

Its blade was a long strip of polished iron, its edge sharpened to a gleaming brightness. The handle was wrapped in old cloth, making it easy enough to grip.

Finally, he found two burlap sacks, folded them up, and tucked them into his belt.

Once he had everything with him, he pushed open the door and headed out.

He followed the small path by the village. The yellow earth beneath his feet had been packed firm by countless footsteps, while wild grass on either side hung heavy with dew. Within only a few steps, a ring around his trouser legs had grown damp.

As he walked, he looked toward the village nestled in the mountain hollow.

Green Mountain Village—dozens of earthen houses lay scattered through the hollow, looking from afar like a careless handful of grayish-yellow pebbles tossed there.

Their roofs were covered with thatch and straw, held down by several stones against the wind.

Smoke had already begun rising from a few chimneys. Thin wisps of cooking smoke rose straight through the windless air before slowly dispersing halfway up.

The village had roughly a hundred households. Remote and impoverished, they barely scraped by on a few meager fields and whatever they could hunt in the mountains.

Drawing back his gaze, Feng Chen turned and walked toward a mountain not far away.

This was the back mountain of Green Mountain Village, and the only large mountain nearby where one could catch worthwhile prey.

The mountains rolled on endlessly. From the village entrance, one could see their layered dark-green outlines, shifting from pale green to deep indigo, while the farthest peaks remained shrouded in mist all year round.

This mountain range was called the Black Mountain Range. According to the village elders, formidable wild beasts—and even Demonic Beasts—appeared deep within. Hunters never dared cross the boundary that had been passed down for generations.

Feng Chen, too, only moved about the outer edges of the range and never ventured deeper in.

The moment he entered the forest, the trees abruptly grew taller. Their branches and leaves intertwined into a green canopy, filtering the sunlight into countless scattered flecks that fell across the ground.

The air became damp and heavy, carrying the smell of rotting leaves and moss.

Feng Chen slowed his pace and carefully tracked prey by relying on the hunting memories in his mind.

He crouched down, brushed aside fallen leaves to inspect claw prints in the soil, identified tender shoots gnawed beside tree roots, observed the direction in which shrub branches had snapped, and leaned close to smell the lingering scents on the ground.

Ding dong, Hunting skill proficiency increased by one.

Ding dong, Hunting skill proficiency increased by one.

The notification chimes rang continuously in his mind. Each time one sounded, his understanding of hunting deepened another layer.

Those vague fragments of experience were sorted into a clear chain of knowledge!

Wild rabbits liked to burrow on sunny gentle slopes. Pheasant droppings usually fell at the roots of low shrubs. Fresh claw marks had sharp edges, while those soaked by dew were blurred.

These details surfaced one after another, as though they had always been branded into his mind and were only now being recalled one by one.

Half an hour later.

Ding dong, Hunting skill has reached the Minor Mastery Realm. Please check it, Host.

Host detected diligently honing Hunting skill. Talent trait, A Thousand Miles a Day, has activated.

Feng Chen only felt his understanding of hunting suddenly become crystal clear.

Traces that had previously required him to crouch down and identify with care could now be judged seven or eight times out of ten with a single glance!

Whether the claw prints on the ground belonged to a rabbit or a badger, whether the bite marks on the shrubs were new or old, and from which direction the faint animal scent in the air drifted—all this information surfaced automatically without any need for deliberate thought.

Another hour later.

Ding dong, Hunting skill has reached the Major Mastery Realm. Please take note, Host.

At this point, Feng Chen had discovered a clear set of wild rabbit tracks at the boundary between a pine forest and a patch of shrubs.

The claw marks were fresh, their edges neat and intact, untouched by wind or dew.

Several fallen young leaves still bore the juice squeezed out by gnawing, giving off a faint, green scent.

He carefully crept closer, his footsteps as light as though he were stepping on cotton. Every step landed on dry moss or exposed roots; he stepped on no dead branches and brushed against no shrubs.

After circling around a crooked old pine tree that had fallen over, he indeed spotted a wild rabbit.

It weighed around two pounds. Its grayish-brown fur nearly blended into the fallen leaves beneath the tree shadows. It was crouched amid a patch of wild clover, intent on chewing, while its two long ears twitched and turned.

Feng Chen raised his hand, silently drawing the bowstring to its fullest between his fingers.

His Perfection-level archery meant he did not need to deliberately aim. Between bow, arrow, eyes, and rabbit, there seemed to be an invisible thread.

The moment his fingers loosened, the arrow tore through the air with a short, fierce whistle, pinning the wild rabbit to the ground in the next instant.

The rabbit hopped twice before going still, bright red blood slowly spreading across the withered yellow leaves.

He strode over, lifted it, and weighed it in his hand. It was a little over two pounds, with thick fur—a fat one.

A smile appeared on his face. He tossed the rabbit into a burlap sack, tied the opening tight, and continued searching.

The mountain forest looked entirely different in his eyes now.

Scuff marks on leaves, shallow pits in the soil, droppings at the roots of shrubs, shadows that should not have appeared at that angle of sunlight!

Every detail revealed the prey's direction to him.

He moved through the forest by following these traces, his ears attentive to the slightest sounds around him and his nose distinguishing every scent carried by the wind.

With hunting at the Major Mastery Realm, the entire forest had changed from a silent backdrop into a map covered in information.

Another hour later.

Ding dong, Hunting skill has entered the Perfect Mastery Realm. Please take note, Host.