Chapter 15
Berlin, fearing Li Guangmin would ask another tricky question he couldn’t answer, calmly pointed at Wu Hengyao, who was preparing to draw his bow: “Teacher Li, it’s about to begin.”
Li Guangmin, a career-focused individual, immediately turned his attention to the field, no longer dwelling on bladder-related academic discussions.
Given Huayan’s one-shot success, Wu Hengyao had to fail to be logical.
After Berlin went to the sidelines, Wu Hengyao was discouraged; he had planned to just go through the motions, not really caring about shining on the show.
Releasing one hundred and eight Pacific Oceans or one hundred and nine, essentially made no difference.
But Berlin interrupted his conversation with Li Guangmin, immediately refocusing his attention on the field when Wu Hengyao drew his bow.
Wu Hengyao maintained his stance, his eyes darting around, confirming.
—He’s—looking—at—me.
If Wu Hengyao’s mind could show bullet comments, it would be full of “Woohoo.”
Resurrected, his drooping wolf ears seemed to perk up; Wu Hengyao’s expression was cold, his arms tense, revealing well-defined muscles, his aggressive hormones overflowing.
In the shot, Wu Hengyao momentarily overlapped in the viewers’ eyes with the legendary handsome archer king Apollo.
Compared to the statue of the sun god in the Vatican Museum, Wu Hengyao had a dynamic fierceness, his handsome figure possessing a wild, combative element.
He drew the bow fully but didn’t release the arrow immediately.
He was considering how to lose spectacularly, without losing face.
Li Guangmin couldn’t help but comment: “He’s more composed than I expected.”
In his opinion, overexerting a taut bow would cause it to break. Wu Hengyao’s calmness surprised him; he didn’t rush but gave himself time to regain his composure.
Berlin nodded in agreement, but sensed the reality was different from what Li Guangmin thought.
Under everyone’s gaze, Wu Hengyao shot.
Unlike Huayan’s clean and precise shot, Wu Hengyao’s arrow was like a meteor burning fiercely as it tore through the atmosphere, colliding with the air, with visible sparks.
The arrow, unstoppable, violently charged towards… the rack of spare compound bows.
Yes, the arrow completely missed, not aiming for the coin hole but directly at the rack.
While Wu Hengyao hesitated to release the arrow, Berlin and the others, at Li Guangmin’s suggestion, moved to a closer, safer location, leaving the area around the rack empty.
In a domino effect, the arrow struck the bow limbs and pulleys, causing them to crash down one after another.
Wu Hengyao’s shot was devastatingly destructive to the props, impacting the prop master on a cosmic level.
Jiang Shu’ran: “…”
Han Yuze: “…”
…What does it mean to overturn someone else’s bowl when you can’t get your own food?
Han Yuze looked at Wu Hengyao from afar.
His dark eyes clearly said two words: Shameless.
Wu Hengyao remained unmoved: Thank you for the compliment. We are all dark creatures; life advice is not to pretend to be an angel, after all, we both know angels aren’t good things either.
The prop master stumbled, tremblingly covering his face: Oh dear, the bows are borrowed, and have to be returned!
Fortunately, before he could lament, Wu Hengyao, apologetic, said in a low voice: “Sorry, it was a mistake. I’ll cover all the losses.”
The prop master’s heart immediately settled. He quickly waved his hands: “It’s okay, it’s an accident.”
Wu Hengyao’s arm strength was indeed amazing. The accuracy, however, was questionable.
The staff quickly checked; the spare bows were damaged in the crucial limbs and pulleys, almost fatally.
The spare bows were down to only the one Wu Hengyao was currently holding.
Jiang Shu’ran and Han Yuze could continue using the remaining bow, but the original plan was for each person to try first, then allow everyone half a day to practice to see how many could complete the challenge.
Now there weren’t enough props. What to do?
Unpredictable accidents frequently happen in variety shows; the key is how to resolve them.
The director quickly reacted, instructing staff to contact a nearby sporting goods store for emergency procurement.
Fortunately, they were told it would arrive within an hour, not affecting the overall recording.
Overhearing this, Wu Hengyao felt slightly regretful; he had planned to leave only one bow for Berlin. With only one bow, Jiang Shu’ran and Han Yuze would definitely not use it, leaving the opportunity for him.
This way, everyone would be on the same level, with no one having an advantage, fair.
The director remained calm.
The situation wasn’t as serious as it seemed. The originally invited guest was the actor Nan Yu, meaning the challenge was planned for one person; Skye’s appearance was an accident. Even if not everyone could participate, it wasn’t a big problem.
Moreover – they were essentially a variety show for entertainment! This scene in the preview would definitely boost ratings.
Composing himself, the director used the loudspeaker: “New compound bows will arrive in an hour; recording will continue normally.”
Wu Hengyao’s dramatic move completely eliminated Jiang Shu’ran and Han Yuze’s chance to shine; they showed their skills appropriately, excelling but ultimately failing.
The director asked the guests: “Before the new bows arrive, who will continue?”
Before Berlin could speak, his teammates answered without hesitation, their voices overlapping.
Han Yuze, slow and deliberate: “Berlin—”
Huayan, propping his chin: “Of course, Berlin.”
Jiang Shu’ran, softly: “Berlin.”
Wu Hengyao, gruffly: “Berlin.”
Berlin, almost not recognizing his name due to the sudden repetition: “…”
Berlin didn’t engage in unnecessary push-and-pull, silently standing up after a few seconds, sighing with a smile: “Okay, I’ll go!”
The staff couldn’t help but laugh.
Compared to his teammates’ remarkable performances, Berlin’s wasn’t as impressive.
He had strong body coordination and was significantly faster than ordinary people, but after the dazzling performances, he seemed unremarkable.
Initially, the staff marveled at Huayan’s skill and Wu Hengyao’s strength. Berlin’s practice was simply repetitive archery; watching it for a long time became tedious.
During his practice, there wasn’t much for the staff to do; they focused on Berlin’s hairstyle, outfit, and shoulder lines, not his practice.
After Berlin practiced for forty minutes, the staff whispered, worried and regretful that he wouldn’t succeed.
Berlin heard it, but didn’t mind.
He stretched when tired, using the time to ask Li Guangmin about his technique.
When the new bows arrived, everyone practiced simultaneously; Jiang Shu’ran and Han Yuze quickly succeeded, taking less than half an hour.
When the three members started the second challenge, Berlin was still stuck on the first.
After his teammates moved on to the third, Berlin remained on the first.
Li Guangmin didn’t become the control group against his gifted teammates; instead, within Skye, Berlin was the last.
From morning to 4 PM, except for Berlin, all Skye members completed the three challenges.
The challenge’s principle wasn’t complicated; completing the first stage, grasping the pattern, accumulating experience and feel, the rest was probability.
As twilight fell, the setting sun dyed the city’s horizon red; the dim sunlight cast a rosy glow on Berlin’s cheeks.
Berlin had been shooting arrows for over eight hours.
Initially, everyone’s eyes were on the others; their progress was rapid, their movements elegant and precise.
Watching them felt like witnessing rising stars, dazzling and exciting.
Later, however, everyone forgot the more skilled Huayan, Wu Hengyao, Jiang Shu’ran, and Han Yuze, only seeing Berlin.
He may not have realized it, but the chatter on the set had stopped; people’s gazes were fixed on him.
His grip on the bow, his focused eyes, unwavering.
No matter how many times he failed, he never thought of giving up.
Having experienced the trials of middle school and college entrance exams, the tempering of society, no one on set hadn’t encountered someone they couldn’t catch up to. Always top-ranking classmates, seniors constantly publishing in top journals, far-superior colleagues; there are always people more skilled.
So they saw themselves in Berlin.
But Berlin had their shadow yet was completely different.
In a group, if teammates perform exceptionally well, most feel overwhelmed, their light overshadowing them, like a heavy mountain. They feel ordinary and lose confidence.
Not Berlin.
He seemed to happily wave to the audience: Don’t be discouraged! I’m just like you, I don’t have that much talent!
In an era of self-deprecation and “lying flat,” Berlin readily accepted failure, happily continuing his efforts: Wow, I’m better than before, see!
Others would be frustrated, annoyed, disappointed, and tired, finding reasons to give up: I’m not suited for this, it’s meaningless, I’m wasting time.
Berlin failed: It’s okay! I can do it! I’m improving!
He had mentioned his few virtues in an interview: persistence and focus. He was unwilling to give up, confident in his ability to succeed even after failures.
He practiced all day, his arms eventually sore – Li Guangmin was touched. Not exactly awestruck, but sympathetic; he had trained the same way; he liked the cheers, but also didn’t want his hard work reduced to “talent.”
According to the average recording time of the past three seasons, it should have ended in the afternoon.
Ending didn’t mean the guests completed the challenge, but that they were exhausted and gave up. Giving up after effort wasn’t criticized.
Berlin hadn’t eaten; he was engrossed and once he stopped, his feel and experience would be lost.
The director finally understood why the assistant director liked Berlin.
His willpower was unexpectedly strong. Such people, even facing difficulties and numerous failures, remain calm and continue striving; they can succeed in anything.
So the production team cooperated, supporting him, extending the work.
Berlin closed his eyes.
He silently exhaled, focusing on the target, aiming for the countless time, drawing the bow.
This time, the arrow was like the first ray of sunlight piercing the polar night, soaring over the boundless horizon, breaking through endless darkness, dispelling the morning mist.
The light split the thick darkness, leaving no room for shadows.
Berlin watched the arrow pass through the coin hole, knocking down the middle die –
He was sweating profusely, his fluffy hair wet and sticking to his forehead, his clothes wrinkled.
He was tired, his arms aching, his fingers trembling, unable to hold the bow.
But the smile he showed after confirming his success could light up the night sky, making even the coldest stone flutter.
Author’s Note:
The whole world loves our Xiao Lin! (Some mother fan statements qwq)
Thank you to the little angels who voted for me or watered nutrient solution between 2022-11-20 00:17:162022-11-20 23:50:32 oh
Thank you for watering nutrient solution to the little angels: Yan Yan 40 bottles; Ting 20 bottles; Hua Ling 15 bottles; Changfeng, Oleander, July Xiaomiao 10 bottles; Orange 2 bottles; xixixixixixxxx, QI 1 bottle;
Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!