∞ starting with Archery.
**Whoosh!**
A soft sound rang out, followed immediately by an arrow slicing through the air. It traced a graceful arc before striking a branch as thick as a thumb on a distant locust tree, snapping it clean off at the root.
**Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!**
As the branch began to fall, three more soft sounds followed. Three arrows shot out almost simultaneously, intercepting the falling branch midair and splitting it precisely into four pieces.
"At a distance of over seventy meters, this would rival an Olympic athlete in my previous life. What a pity…"
The one speaking was a boy dressed as a hunter. He appeared to be fifteen or sixteen years old, with dark skin and a lean, wiry frame. His thick eyebrows and large eyes gave him an honest, simple air, but a closer look into his eyes revealed a strange sense of dissonance.
The boy held an old horn bow that showed signs of age but was meticulously maintained, its body gleaming with oil. His right arm trembled uncontrollably—clearly, firing those four arrows had taken a significant toll on him.
"System."
The boy muttered silently to himself. In the next moment, a translucent panel appeared before his eyes:
Host: Zhong Lin
Skill: Archery (Max Level)
Skill Points: ∞
It was a rudimentary panel, consisting of just three lines. There were no divisions for "strength, speed, intelligence" or "realm" classifications. It was barebones and unadorned.
The boy's name was Zhong Lin, a transmigrator. In his previous life, he had ignored traffic rules, riding an electric scooter through a red light, only to be struck and crushed by a dump truck, dying on the spot. When he awoke, he found himself inhabiting the body of a young hunter also named Zhong Lin.
Through the fragmented memories of his predecessor, he learned that this world resembled the ancient China of his past life. The village he lived in was called Xiahe Village, under the jurisdiction of Heishan County. Beyond that, he knew little—after all, one couldn't expect a boy who had never left Xiahe Village to know much about the wider world.
From those memories, he also learned that the village had been struck by a drought. It hadn't rained in three months, the fields had withered, and food was scarce at home. Even the wild beasts in the nearby mountains had migrated deeper into the range due to the drought. Desperate, his predecessor had ventured further into the mountains to hunt, only to encounter a bear. In a panic, he fell down a slope—and that's when Zhong Lin from Earth took over his body.
Fortunately, Zhong Lin had awakened the golden finger every transmigrator dreams of. When he first saw the "∞" symbol on the system panel, he could hardly contain his excitement.
"∞" was a mathematical symbol he'd learned about in high school, representing "infinity."
The "infinity" symbol wasn't rare, nor were "skill points." What was rare was the combination of the two—meaning he had an infinite number of skill points.
What were skill points?
Anyone who had played games or read system-based novels knew: with enough skill points, one could soar to new heights with the press of a button.
In his excitement, Zhong Lin immediately maxed out the "archery" skill his predecessor possessed, leading to the earlier scene of shooting the branch.
At nearly a hundred meters, he snapped a thumb-thick branch with one shot, then fired three more arrows mid-fall to split it into four pieces.
Such archery was nothing short of miraculous—worthy of the legendary archer
But soon, Zhong Lin discovered a flaw in the system panel. Upgrading this skill only improved technique—it didn't hone the body.
A marksman capable of such divine archery shouldn't be so exhausted after firing just four arrows that his entire right arm nearly gave out.
Reality wasn't a game, where balance dictates that a character with a high-attack must have low-defense. In reality, every archer who was powerful with a bow was a formidable fighter up close—just think of
"I thought this was a 'Buy one, get one free. ' situation, but it turns out it's just adding experience," Zhong Lin sighed, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"I don't even know what kind of world this is. My predecessor was just a country bumpkin, his perspective limited to Xiahe Village. He didn't even know what dynasty this was, let alone anything else."
Sitting down to rest, Zhong Lin massaged his right arm to ease the fatigue. It took nearly half an hour before his arm regained enough strength to move properly.
He stood up and retrieved the four arrows. His quiver held only five in total—his predecessor's entire stock—and losing even one would've pained him dearly.
After resting for another half-day until his arm had mostly recovered, Zhong Lin slung his hunted game over his shoulder and began the trek back.
One wild pheasant, two rabbits, and a muntjac deer.
It was an impressive haul—something his predecessor could never have achieved. But with max-level archery, it was effortless.
He traveled without stopping, and even so, it was nearly sunset by the time he emerged from Heishan Mountain.
Xiahe Village was named for its proximity to a river. Upstream lay Shanghe Village, but the drought had dried up the entire waterway. People farmed in season and hunted in the mountains during idle times. But the drought had driven the game deeper into Heishan, making it harder and more dangerous to hunt. Had it not been for the dire lack of food at home, his predecessor wouldn't have risked going so deep, only to end up replaced by Zhong Lin.
Stepping into the village under the glow of the setting sun, Zhong Lin walked forward.
"Da… Dalinzi, you… you're not dead?"
"Uncle Zhang Er! The mountain gods protected me. I got lost chasing this beast, but I finally managed to take it down."
As he spoke, Zhong Lin deliberately shook the muntjac deer on his shoulder, forcing a proud smile onto his face.
"Whoa! That's a big muntjac—enough to eat for half a month! You're fine, that's what matters. You were gone in the mountains for three days with no sign—everyone thought you were dead. Hurry… hurry home and check in!"
Uncle Zhang Er's eyes darted evasively as he spoke. He opened his mouth as if to say something more but ultimately held back.
Zhong Lin's expression shifted. Without lingering, he strode toward his family's courtyard.
Even before he got close, he saw villagers coming and going from his home. At the entrance stood a bamboo pole with a white cloth banner hanging from it—a sign that someone in the household had died.
Zhong Lin's sudden arrival caused the villagers, who had been chatting and smiling, to freeze in place.
"Da… Dalinzi, you're not dead?"
"Dalinzi's back? How's that possible?"
"He stayed in Heishan Mountain for three days and still came back alive?"
First came shock, then awkwardness. The villagers' gazes shifted away, none daring to meet Zhong Lin's eyes.
Expressionless, Zhong Lin pushed through the crowd and stepped inside. His usually quiet courtyard was now filled with more than half the village. In the center, a large clay stove had been built, flames roaring beneath it. Above, a massive iron pot bubbled with a fragrant aroma.
Zhong Lin glanced at the beams under the eaves. The wooden hooks that should have held cured meat and grain were empty.