The Favored Heiress
Chapter 582: Get Used to Being Bullied by Her

Chapter 582: Chapter 582: Get Used to Being Bullied by Her

As the clay pigeon soared into the sky, Wei Lang raised his gun and fired almost immediately.

But Li Qiao was even faster, and after five shots rang out, all returned to calm.

Wei Lang fired, but he only hit pieces of the broken clay pigeon.

Aside from the sound of the wind passing by, no other noise could be heard at the scene.

Such a competition was seldom seen.

Miss Li alone, in the shortest amount of time, eliminated the nine most skilled marksmen from the Second Hall.

In fact, after the second round was completed, the outcome was pretty obvious.

Whether it was the number of hits on the clay pigeons or the speed, no one could match Li Qiao.

The final result, twenty-three clay pigeons, Li Qiao hit twelve.

With a ratio exceeding half, she was the undisputed victor.

As the head of the Second Hall, Wei Lang may have been defeated, but showed no sign of dejection on his face.

He was even excited, as if craving another chance to compete with Li Qiao.

At that moment, Li Qiao laid her gun on the table and rubbed her wrist, looking towards an excited Wei Lang, "Hall Master Wei, I appreciate the courtesy."

"Not at all, I sincerely admit my inferiority," Wei Lang said while having the Beretta 92F on the table replaced, catching Li Qiao rubbing her wrist. He probed, "Miss Li, do you want to take a rest?"

Li Qiao glanced at Shang Yu not far away. The man stood tall and resolute in the sunshine, his eyes warm and gentle. Before she could say much, the man had already walked over with long strides.

He came up to Li Qiao, took her wrist tenderly into his hands, and gently kneaded it. He then quickly massaged the base of her thumb, "Tired?"

Li Qiao stretched her fingers, offering a slight smile, "Not too bad."

It had been a long time since she had engaged in shooting, and while her skills hadn’t declined, the recoil from the Beretta still numbed her hand.

Li Qiao looked down at Shang Yu’s actions and inexplicably felt that she had become delicate.

In the past, when she joined battles carrying a submachine gun, even when her shoulders were rubbed raw and bleeding, she never felt anything was amiss.

Yet in front of him, she found herself quite satisfied with such care.

The onlookers who were watching the contest were forcibly fed a mouthful of dog food.

At this time, Zhui Feng, leaning against Wang Yue’s shoulder at a slant, had legs trembling like he was having a stroke, seeming somewhat unsteady.

He recalled how he once fearlessly ingratiated himself with Li Qiao. Thank goodness she wasn’t armed back then, or else the grass over his grave might be blooming by now!

...

Five minutes later, the fixed target assessment began.

This stage was much simpler, a one-time affair—ten people stood at their shooting positions, aiming and firing at targets, with the highest scorer emerging as the winner.

Wei Lang’s reputation for scoring a perfect hundred with ten shots originated from here.

Because he could nearly always hit the bullseye with each shot.

The Beretta 92F on the table had been replaced with a modified Desert Eagle with a ten-round magazine.

Li Qiao returned to the shooting range at an unhurried pace, with Wei Lang still at the position next to her while the other eight members had been replaced by another group of fixed target shooting experts.

Wei Lang checked his magazine, then observed Li Qiao holding the gun casually by her side. No matter how he looked at it, it seemed half-hearted.

His eyes glinted, "Miss Li, shall we begin?"

Li Qiao adjusted her stance and nodded in response, "Yes, let’s start."

At Wei Lang’s command, a deafening barrage of gunfire instantly filled the valley.

Everyone except Li Qiao aimed at the targets in front of them and continuously fired.

Indeed, Wei Lang’s ten shots resulting in a perfect score wasn’t just for show.

On the target twenty meters away, Wei Lang hit the ten-ring with every shot.

All had fired their ten shots, but Li Qiao hadn’t yet started.

After the gunfire ceased, everyone’s gaze naturally converged on her.

Under the gentle breeze and clear sky, Li Qiao looked calmly at the target ahead, no one knew what she was seeing or waiting for.

Wei Lang’s perfect score was already out.

This round might just fulfill what he had just said, if Li Qiao could also score a perfect hundred, then she would be the winner.

It seemed that the result was no longer in doubt.

Yet Li Qiao was slow to fire, inevitably causing people to wonder whether she had lost her confidence.

A minute went by, stretching the wait into an endless span.

Wei Lang was puzzled, his lips moving as he attempted to ask, "Miss Li..."

Before he finished speaking, the sound of a gunshot erupted.

Li Qiao stood sideways, holding the gun in one hand, her index finger repeatedly pulling the trigger, both quickly and accurately.

She finished firing ten bullets in scarcely less than ten seconds.

From start to finish, she didn’t even blink.

Soon after, the target was brought back.

Wei Lang scored a perfect hundred, as did three other members, and the scores of the others weren’t bad either, averaging over ninety-five.

Immediately, everyone’s gaze froze on Li Qiao’s target.

The best possible outcome was arguably a perfect hundred as well.

Then, someone posed the critical question, "I clearly saw Miss Li fire ten shots, so why is there only one bullet hole in the bullseye?"

"What do you mean? Did the other nine miss?"

"That shouldn’t be possible. Look closely, there really is only one, and... it’s larger than the holes made by Hall Master Wei and the others."

More and more people gathered around Li Qiao’s target to examine it carefully.

Wei Lang, with disbelief, pushed aside the members nearby and after staring intently for three seconds, his facial expression was indescribable.

"Li, Miss Li, did all ten of your shots... go through the same bullet hole?"

At that moment, Li Qiao, frowning, disdainfully tossed the modified Desert Eagle onto the table, thinking the faulty gun was hardly of any use.

Hearing Wei Lang’s words, she casually replied, "Possibly."

Wei Lang touched the bullet hole pierced through the target, looked back at Li Qiao, and silently gave her a thumbs up.

Shooting differed from other disciplines, as even the slightest external fluctuation could affect the result.

Such as light, the sound of the wind, or even a small moth, might cause a bullet to go off course.

Yet Li Qiao managed to disregard all external factors, firing ten bullets through the same trajectory with ultra-fast successive shots.

Even Wei Lang couldn’t guarantee to achieve such precision and accuracy.

Looking at the target, he swallowed hard, turned, and walked over to Shang Yu, nodding to report, "Hall Master, Miss Li has passed the first stage of the assessment."

And indeed, without any suspense.

Shang Yu’s face remained unchanged as he slightly curved his thin lips, passing by Wei Lang, he spoke indifferently, "The people of Second Hall really need some good training."

Wei Lang: "..."

Hall Master, aren’t you being a bit insincere with that comment?

The participants in the assessment were the top shooting contestants of Second Hall, capable of taking on ten opponents single-handedly.

Why don’t you consider just how abnormal Miss Li’s abilities are?

How old is she? So young, and yet her skills are so good, was she honed through trials and tribulations in a wolf’s den?

Wei Lang stood still, pondering life, when suddenly he felt a weight on his shoulder, and turning his head, he saw He Chen and quickly called out, "Brother Chen."

He Chen patted his shoulder and gestured towards Li Qiao’s direction with his lips, "Don’t worry, don’t lose heart, you’ll get used to being outclassed by her after a while."

Wei Lang: "???"

Thank you, I’m truly humbled.