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Fu Shiwu had a virtue: seriousness. Fu Shiwu had a flaw: seriousness!
In short, he was someone who easily believed in others' words, a simple-minded boy.
Tang Xuhai, as his mentor, had taught him various knowledge, all of which were taken by the rigid Fu Shiwu as dogma, nailed into his mind.
Tang Xuhai's shooting lessons lasted an entire afternoon. After dinner, with Tang Xuhai idling around, he took over watching over Wen Zhaoming. Fu Shiwu sat beside Wen Zhaoming's wheelchair, diligently practicing disassembling and reloading the magazine, tirelessly rehearsing it hundreds of times.
Then, he incessantly practiced releasing the safety, engaging the safety, loading, unloading...
Repeat.
Even Tang Xuhai, puffing on his cigarette, couldn't help but glance sideways. He found the noise and movements grating. Could Fu Shiwu really be so engrossed (he wasn’t!)?
Fu Shiwu pursed his lips, eyes cast downward, his expression serene. Never before had he been so focused while learning anything in his entire life.
Though uncertain of possessing this innate talent, he believed in the virtue of diligent practice.
Anything feared diligence, and effort always bore fruit.
Tang Xuhai sighed. Even during his military service, he hadn’t witnessed anyone as diligently practicing magazine loading and safety handling as Fu Shiwu!
That night, Tang Xuhai had a nightmare about battle, sleeping so deeply that he woke up feeling exhausted. He glanced resentfully at Fu Shiwu, who returned a puzzled look.
Watching Fu Shiwu's blurry sight without glasses, Tang Xuhai silently turned away. How could he complain? It was because Fu Shiwu had been tinkering with the gun all night that Tang Xuhai had dreams of overseas combat, a rarity.
If the previous night had shown Tang Xuhai Fu Shiwu's seriousness, the morning's actions made him understand that he needed to think twice before speaking with Fu Shiwu in the future!
Fu Shiwu stood in the center of the air-raid shelter, hands gripping the gun, unmoving, aiming at the target Tang Xuhai had affixed to the wall using band-aids.
The target was rudimentary, just a piece of torn paper from a water bucket's label, with two band-aids haphazardly forming a cross at the center.
Yet, Fu Shiwu managed to aim precisely at that cross for a whole hour without the slightest movement.
If Tang Xuhai hadn't been sure that Fu Shiwu's eyes were blinking and he was breathing, he might have mistaken him for a wax statue.
Fu Shiwu's finger applied some pressure to the trigger, but during this time, that finger didn't budge a bit, neither pulling nor relaxing.
Tang Xuhai, holding his arms, observed from the side. He went from chuckling at the start to solemn later on, ultimately ending up admiring Fu Shiwu.
Fu Shiwu possessed an incredible level of concentration. With such focus, there was no reason for him to fail at anything.
Tang Xuhai knew Fu Shiwu's marksmanship wouldn’t be lacking in the future.
After a while, with Fu Shiwu still not pulling the trigger, Tang Xuhai started worrying. Was he going to aim until he lost consciousness?! This wasn't something a novice should practice.
Fu Shiwu had just started practicing marksmanship. Achieving this level was incredibly difficult, and it imposed a tremendous physical and mental burden.
However, seeing Fu Shiwu put in such effort, Tang Xuhai wouldn’t interrupt him no matter what.
Fu Shiwu didn't know the massive toll this would take on his body and mind, but he knew aiming until consciousness disappeared, leaving only the target, would be extremely challenging.
He didn't recklessly attempt this. He had experienced this inexplicable state not long ago!
That incredible sensation, where he vanished, leaving only focus on the target, he had felt it within the community, under the threat of aliens.
Fu Shiwu didn't know how he had achieved it then, but recalling that mental state, he seemed to touch upon its edge.
Forgetting everything around, abandoning other senses of the body, just focusing on hearing.
Now he was doing the same, forgetting the air-raid shelter, Tang Xuhai, and Wen Zhaoming, abandoning hearing, touch, smell, leaving only sight and the target in front of him.
Fu Shiwu didn't know how intense his expression was now or how sharp his gaze had become. He simply extended his arm, his eyes fixed through the sights on that small band-aid cross.
Slowly, apart from the band-aid cross, he couldn’t see anything else. Furthermore, he couldn't feel his sore and heavy arms, stiff neck, or the aching legs. All these sensations vanished until eventually, even his vision disappeared completely.
But that band-aid cross remained vivid in his perception, a sense beyond the five senses.
At that moment, he pulled the trigger.
"Click!!"
A quiet sound echoed suddenly in the silent air-raid shelter, though Tang Xuhai seemed to hear a deafening roar.
In a short span of time, an unparalleled pressure emanated from Fu Shiwu. Unconsciously, Tang Xuhai tensed up, his muscles trembling, entering a combat-ready state. When Fu Shiwu pulled the trigger, even though it was an empty gun, Tang Xuhai felt an unstoppable force that could shatter everything in that shot.
Tang Xuhai's sweat trickled down, his body drenched in fine beads of sweat.
Unbelievable.
Tang Xuhai stared in astonishment at Fu Shiwu. Not even the sniper in their squad had exhibited the same momentum as Fu Shiwu just did. Confronting each other on the battlefield, just his momentum alone would overpower most soldiers.
After Fu Shiwu pulled the trigger, his vision cleared, but a wave of exhaustion surged. He gasped for breath, sweating profusely in just a moment, his hands sore and weak, unable to hold the gun properly.
Fu Shiwu staggered, collapsing weakly to the side.
Quick to react, Tang Xuhai swiftly stepped forward and supported him.
Dizzy, Fu Shiwu looked at him weakly, asking, "Why am I suddenly so weak?"
"You've exhausted yourself," Tang Xuhai said firmly.
"Why?" Fu Shiwu weakly struggled, floundering in Tang Xuhai's arms, "I was just practicing aiming."
"You've pushed yourself too hard!" Tang Xuhai’s reprimand finally found a chance to be spoken, "The intensity of that kind of aiming training consumes tremendous physical and mental energy. Can you handle this at your current level? Though I mentioned the pinnacle state of shooting, it’s achieved after countless real shots, not recklessly challenging high difficulty right from the start! Reckless!"
"Oh..." Fu Shiwu's expression changed, lowering his head and shoulders in disappointment, "I was wrong."
His swift admission of fault left Tang Xuhai, full of reprimand, unable to continue.
Licking his lips, clearing his throat, Tang Xuhai continued, "However, perhaps you're naturally talented, succeeding on your first try. This state is rare, but after the initial success, don't relax. Try to maintain this state regularly."
Fu Shiwu's eyes lit up, about to smile, but Tang Xuhai sternly added, "But! I don't suggest consecutive attempts. Wait until you feel fully recovered physically and mentally. Tomorrow or later, whenever you feel completely restored, only then attempt it again."
"I understand," Fu Shiwu nodded obediently.
"Can you stand?" Tang Xuhai finished advising and began to check on his current condition.
"No strength, can't exert force, and a bit dizzy," Fu Shiwu, supported by Tang Xuhai's arms and knees, tilted his head up, looking at Tang Xuhai above him.
At this moment, his expression was indifferent, eyes aloof. If not for understanding him over these days, Tang Xuhai wouldn't have detected the plea hidden within his words.
"Have some chocolate for energy," Tang Xuhai said and helped Fu Shiwu sit in a wheelchair.
After settling Fu Shiwu, he walked over to his backpack and opened the small box of chocolates.
The box, originally full, now had only two-thirds left.
Tang Xuhai was speechless.
He had seen Fu Shiwu bring this box home, and it had been just a week since they left! Fu Shiwu had already devoured a third of it. How much sweet tooth did he have?!
His dental capacity was truly commendable!
Fu Shiwu possessed another skill that left Tang Xuhai impressed, truly cause for celebration.
This brand of chocolate came in individual packs, small and only as long as a finger, with a total of 10 bars per box. Tang Xuhai opened a box and poured out half, then walked over and handed it to Fu Shiwu.
If it were him, even half of this half would make him too overwhelmed by sweetness.
The air in the shelter was cool, and the chocolate hadn't melted into a messy glob. Fu Shiwu held his favorite milk-filled chocolate, eating contentedly.
After gobbling down five bars, even Fu Shiwu felt overwhelmed by the sweetness, asking Tang Xuhai for water, which he drank in one go.
"Really..." Tang Xuhai rolled his eyes. How was it possible that the mature and stern professional he once knew was this childish?!
As Fu Shiwu was recovering physically, Tang Xuhai prepared lunch for them.
Fu Shiwu assumed Tang Xuhai would be clumsy, but in reality, Tang Xuhai's cooking skills surpassed Fu Shiwu's!
He usually ate dehydrated vegetables with sauce at home, while Tang Xuhai occasionally cooked a dish or made soup. You can't judge a book by its cover.
If he had oil, Tang Xuhai, with itchy hands for knife skills, could easily match the level of a chef with these dehydrated vegetables.
After lunch and a short nap, when he woke and saw Wen Zhaoming stable and feeling reasonably good himself, Fu Shiwu resumed his aiming practice.
However, he didn't engage in the ultimate training again, just ordinary exercises focusing on hand-eye coordination.
Lifting with one hand, aligning his right eye with the sight, aiming until he felt no issues, Fu Shiwu then pulled the trigger.
Watching him shoot every 2-3 minutes with such ease, Tang Xuhai was astonished.
A prodigy!
He finally understood the feeling his comrades had when they looked at him with envy and jealousy.
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