Chapter 7: Mud on the Bow

The ceremonial arrow had a ribbon longer than the shooting ground.

Shuqiao knew because an attendant was still carrying its end through the gate.

His uncle had arranged a demonstration of the general's accomplishments.

The guests had been promised dignity, precision, and refreshments under a canopy.

Yanzhi had promised nobody would shoot the canopy this year.

"A reassuring distinction," Shuqiao said.

The officer gave him the decorated arrow.

"The canopy wasn't full last time."

Shuqiao considered asking his uncle to sit beneath it.

He settled for carrying the arrow to the general.

Yunting stood beyond a patch of wet ground, speaking to two veterans.

Shuqiao looked for a clean route.

His uncle had selected white outer robes for him.

They made him appear suitably refined beside a military spouse.

They also made every available path an argument against leaving the house.

He took a careful step along the edge.

The ribbon caught on a stool.

An attendant lifted it free.

Shuqiao took another step.

The ribbon wound around his own ankle.

Yunting reached him before he attempted a third.

"Were you intending to shoot yourself here?"

"I'm presenting it," Shuqiao said.

He held out the arrow with the ribbon still tethered to his foot.

"There may be conditions."

The general knelt and unwound the silk.

Shuqiao wanted him to stand immediately.

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