The Marquis Mansion's Elite Class-Chapter 330
He Zheng gasped in a hushed tone, "There are actually wild boars here? Oh heavens, quick, quick—keep your voices down, brothers. If we startle it, it might attack us."
Shen Yibai exclaimed excitedly, "Come on, this time it's my turn to shoot the center! At this distance, I’ll definitely hit it!"
The group of young boys quickly coordinated their positions and took another shot together.
"Whoosh—"
"We hit it again!!" The boys cheered.
Servants rushed to retrieve the prey, shouting, "It's Young Master Shen's arrow!"
Shen Yibai immediately yelled, "That's mine! I hit it!"
Wei Xinglu whooped, "Our luck is really on fire today—bullseye after bullseye! Next is my turn, let me shoot a pretty little fox!"
"Whoosh—"
"Wow! You actually hit the fox!" Wei Xinglu was ecstatic.
The boys were overjoyed, each more thrilled than the last. While the servants gathered their spoils, they eagerly scouted for more prey. Unable to hit flying targets, they focused on ground game, and by the end of the day, their haul was impressive.
The boys returned triumphantly, their eight servants laden with game. Shen Yibai, in particular, made a comical sight—insisting on carrying the wild boar he’d shot, only to buckle under its weight and drop to his knees.
"Hahaha, Yibai, it’s not even New Year’s yet—why are you kneeling?" Wei Xinglu couldn’t help but laugh.
The little troublemaker teased, "I think he’s so awestruck by our sudden archery prowess that he’s kneeling to pledge allegiance."
He Zheng snorted, "Not a bad idea… Oh wait, no, no—Master Shen’s dignity must not be insulted!"
Shen Yibai tossed the boar aside and lunged at them. He Zheng narrowly escaped a beating thanks to his quick retraction, leaving Wei Xinglu, Shen Yibai, and another boy in a tussle.
He Zheng, relieved, sidled up to Zong Wenxiu and muttered, "Close call. Almost got pummeled."
Zong Wenxiu chuckled, "Let them fight a bit longer. I hear built-up muscles help—less hand pain from writing." ƒrēenovelkiss.com
He Zheng gasped, "That’s a thing? Wenxiu, wait for me—I’m joining them!"
Zong Wenxiu: "…"
The five boys roughhoused their way out of the woods and headed to the tallying area. The royal hunt offered prizes, with the top three hunters receiving rewards.
"House of the Guardian Duke, eldest son of the Luo family, Luo Ji—45 kills."
The boys froze at the number, gaping at the coldly aloof teenager, Luo Ji. The eldest son of Luo Jingfeng, he was renowned as a prodigy of the Martial Academy.
Beside Luo Ji lay his spoils—45 small game, mostly birds, pigeons, hedgehogs, and chicks.
Shen Yibai glanced at their own haul—all large game—and declared, "All his kills combined aren’t as big as my boar."
Zong Wenxiu suppressed a laugh. "It’s counted by quantity, not size. Young Master Luo’s archery is remarkable—small game is the hardest to hit. Look at us—we barely got any."
He Zheng groaned, "Then we’re doomed. No way we can beat him."
Zong Jincheng shrugged. "So what? We’re not Martial Academy students. No need to compete. We’re future scholars—just here to have fun."
Shen Yibai grinned. "True! Let’s tally up. After this, I’m taking my boar home—first meal braised, second stir-fried, third cold-tossed!"
The others: "…"
As their kills were counted, other young hunters returned, giving Luo Ji a wide berth and clustering near Zong Jincheng’s group, whispering.
"Typical of the Guardian Duke’s heir—blocking off paths so only he could hunt. Forty-five kills? Ha! If others had access, he’d barely hit thirty."
"Right? I tried taking that route and got stopped. They flashed the Luo family insignia—who’d dare challenge that?"
"Ah well, what can we do? That’s Luo Jingfeng—the General. Better keep quiet before Luo Ji hears."
"…"
The five boys exchanged wide-eyed glances, accidentally stumbling onto juicy gossip.
Zong Wenxiu blinked. "So that’s how he did it?"
Wei Xinglu added, "Turning the hunting grounds into his private shooting range? No wonder."
Shen Yibai scoffed. "No way my boar loses to cheats."
Zong Jincheng rolled his eyes. "Your boar would lose fair and square. Even with shortcuts, Luo Ji bagged forty-five small targets. The Martial Academy prodigy title isn’t for nothing."
Nearby, another boy sneered, "Prodigy? More like nepotism. With a powerful father paving the way, even I could hit forty-five—maybe even win next year’s martial exam."
"Exactly. Next year’s top scorer? Obviously Luo Ji. It’s rigged—everyone knows, no one dares outshine him."
As they spoke, Luo Ji strode over.
Tall and composed, his calm gaze sent the others scrambling back—leaving only the five boys standing.
The five: "…"
Great. Now it looks like we’re the ones badmouthing him.
(Even if they had chimed in a little…)
Zong Jincheng stepped forward boldly. "What do you want?"
Luo Ji ignored him, addressing the whisperers instead. "If you doubt my skills, let’s settle it in a match. Prove whether I need connections to win—or just my own ability."
The boys trembled. "Y-you misheard! We’d never imply that! Young Master Luo’s skill is unmatched—we’re in awe!"
"Right, right! Luo Ji’s reputation speaks for itself. We’d never dare challenge you—that’d be like ants fighting an elephant!"
Zong Jincheng perked up. If Luo Ji was a Martial Academy genius, his hearing was sharp—he’d caught every word.
This gossip just got spicy.
Luo Ji said coolly, "No need to fear. I am not my father. I don’t care who you are—let’s compete fairly. That way, you’ll stop slandering me behind my back."
