The first arrow had landed.
Not perfect.
But clean enough.
A ripple of approval passed through the crowd, low but steady, acknowledging the precision required under such restriction. Jin Yue lowered the bow slowly, letting the motion settle through his arms, his breathing controlled as he absorbed the feedback from his own body.
Pain remained.
A sharp, persistent line along his right wrist.
Manageable.
For now.
He did not linger on it.
Could not afford to.
Because the next target was already rising.
The second target rose farther out, smaller and partially obscured by a rotating wooden frame.
He nocked the arrow again.
One breath.
Draw.
The weighted cuff pulled against the sore joint, and for one dangerous instant his hand trembled...not visibly, not enough for the audience, but enough for him to feel the instability in the tendons. The memory of silk binding his wrists the night before flashed across his mind with unwelcome clarity. Tight. Smooth. Unyielding.
