When I opened my eyes, I was in the Qing Kingdom, my family was destitute, and I was forced to recruit soldiers from the imperial court - I was given a broken bow and thrown into the vanguard camp to be used as cannon fodder.
There are none of the standard systems, plug-ins, and grandfathers that come standard with time-travelers. The only golden finger is that my hands are ridiculously steady, and I can hit whatever I aim at.
While others are cultivating immortality, I practice archery, and while others are enlightened, I am quenching my true energy. One arrow pierced the armor, three arrows chased the soul. When everyone thought that the ninth-grade archer was the end, I shot through the unshakable palace gate with one backhand arrow.
The ninth grade is just the starting point. Qingguo is too small to accommodate my bow string - a grand master with a thousand years of foundation? Eight hundred miles away, kill the yellow dragon with one arrow!
