Chapter Thirty-Two: Let the Silver Needles Fly

At a dart-throwing booth, a lively crowd had gathered to watch. The booth owner held a brass gong, banging it loudly while shouting to draw in customers, creating a bustling scene.

Relying on his tall stature, Li Pingyang squeezed between two burly men, making his way to the frontmost spot.

"Hit... hit... let me hit it!" A man holding a dart squinted his left eye, staring intently at a swiftly spinning disc. Waiting for the perfect moment, he focused his energy and hurled the dart.

With a swift whistle, the feathered dart shot forward, and under the eager gaze of the crowd, it struck the disc, earning cheers and applause.

The booth owner struck the gong in congratulation, then halted the spinning disc to inspect the result. Unfortunately, though the dart landed on the disc, it was in the lowest ring.

From the prizes beside him, the owner handed the man a piece of pastry—a consolation prize for participating.

The man sighed, shaking his head as he accepted his prize and retreated into the crowd. He had spent three coins for that single throw, yet gained nothing worthwhile.

Finding it amusing, Li Pingyang handed over three coins to the owner, choosing what he believed to be a spot with excellent fortune. He began warming up on the spot.

He twisted his neck, stretched his legs, even performed a set of calisthenics, finishing with a comfortable stretch. The crowd watched, stunned by his antics.

Some impatient onlookers felt ready to storm up and teach him a lesson. One young man grumbled, "Are you going to throw or not? If not, move out of the way."

Li Pingyang ignored them. When everyone relaxed their guard, he casually hurled the dart.

As the dart flew toward the bullseye, Li Pingyang was already preparing his winner's speech in his mind.

Spectator A: "???"
Spectator B: "!!!"
Li Pingyang: "..."

But fate had other plans. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew, sending the dart off course—straight into the owner's thigh. With everyone staring at him, the owner looked down at his leg.

A beat late, he yelped in pain and was carried away by the crowd. Taking advantage of the distraction, Li Pingyang covered his face and slunk away, too embarrassed to show himself.

After a while, the owner returned, his leg wrapped in bandages, limping but declaring the game would continue.

One had to admit, he was determined to make money. If he encountered a few more oddballs like Li Pingyang, he might be forced to change professions.

"Let me try," Zhou Li said from the sidelines, suddenly interested. He borrowed three coins from Li Pingyang, intending to teach the owner a lesson.

Seeing Zhou Li's shabby attire, the owner didn't think much of it—another fool ready to lose money, why not?

The darts had been tampered with, as had the spinning disc. Zhou Li had seen through these tricks from the beginning, though he hadn't exposed them.

Li Pingyang's earlier throw had aimed for the bullseye, but the owner had hidden a large magnet on his thigh, interfering right as the dart approached. The dart itself held a magnet as well. The owner hadn’t expected the string securing the magnet to loosen, flipping it so that the magnets attracted rather than repelled, resulting in the earlier mishap. To avoid exposure, he didn’t let anyone inspect his leg, and the injury wasn’t too serious.

Zhou Li wanted to raise the stakes. He wagered all his money for a single shot at the bullseye. If he succeeded, he would claim the grand prize—a fat bass fish. If he failed, his money would go to the owner.

The rules needed changing, though. Zhou Li said the darts weren’t to his liking; for fairness, he wouldn’t use his own throwing knives either. Instead, he borrowed a slender needle from a young woman at the next booth.

To reassure the owner, Zhou Li moved to the very back of the crowd, twice the distance of the previous throwing spot.

No one believed he could hit the target.

The owner boasted that if Zhou Li could hit the bullseye, he would eat the spinning disc himself! The wind was still blowing, making the challenge even harder.

With both sides in agreement and the crowd as witnesses, Zhou Li began his performance. Gripping the needle in one hand, he calculated the distance, his eyes fixed on the bullseye.

He summoned internal energy, slowly enveloping the needle in an invisible stream of qi, stabilizing its flight.

Under everyone's gaze, Zhou Li relaxed his brow and released the needle. For reasons unknown, the owner’s eyelids twitched, sensing imminent trouble, yet he remained unconvinced.

With a sharp whistle, the silver needle impaled the very center of the bullseye, prompting a storm of cheers and applause. The owner's smile froze instantly.

Several spectators inspected the result, confirming the needle was dead center, not even slightly off. They nodded to the crowd in affirmation.

Zhou Li clasped his hands in gratitude, thanking everyone for their witness and support, then apologized to the owner, saying, "I'll take this fish, then!"

As he left, Zhou Li tried to retrieve his money pouch from the owner, but the owner clung tightly. After a brief struggle, he finally let go.

Watching the grand prize bass carried off, the owner felt his heart break, slapped his own face and cursed himself, lamenting he should never have let Zhou Li play.

But on second thought, his tricks remained—today was a loss, but tomorrow he could earn it back. Just as he pondered this, someone tapped his shoulder.

Turning around, he was seized by two plainclothes prison guards. One pinned him down while the other cut open his trouser leg, extracting the hidden magnet.

Caught red-handed, there was nothing left to deny. He sighed, resigned to his fate, as the two guards—who had been lurking in the crowd waiting for him to slip up—each took an arm and led him away.

The crowd erupted in applause and cheers. The first man who had thrown the dart finally realized he'd been duped, clapping louder than anyone.

As the owner passed by, he spat in his face, cursing, "You scoundrel, bah! Bah bah bah!"

By then, Li Pingyang and Zhou Li had already left the crowd behind.

Zhou Li carried the big bass in one hand and led a white horse with the other. Li Pingyang strolled leisurely, munching on a stick of candied haws.

They had barely walked past a street when a sudden commotion startled them. Glancing to their right, they saw a runaway horse charging toward them from a distance.

"Get out of the way!"
"Everyone, move!"

Directly ahead of them, a little girl stood in the middle of the street, clutching a stick of candied haws. Terrified, she sat on the ground, crying loudly as the horse barreled toward her.