So in the end, the fool turned out to be myself!
“How was it?”
“How did it look?”
After launching all eight skipping stones in one breath, Chen Jue hurriedly turned around and ran over to Wu Fang to check the drone footage. Yet Wu Fang’s cheeks were slightly flushed, for her attention had been utterly captivated by the butterfly-shaped flower that bloomed across the water, and she’d forgotten to start the recording.
“I didn’t capture it clearly… Could we try again?” Wu Fang murmured softly, like a schoolgirl admitting a mistake.
“Of course!”
“We’ve got plenty of time this morning, let’s try a few more times. We’ll shoot some stunning footage to amaze everyone!”
Chen Jue smiled faintly at her words. Now that his “Hidden Weapon Throwing” skill had reached perfection, his technique was unmatched in history. The move he’d just performed—eight stones skipping in unison—was effortless for him. And since adorable Teacher Wu had asked, he was more than happy to oblige.
…
Several more attempts followed—not just athletic feats, but pure artistry on the water! Once again, butterfly petals unfolded across the lake’s surface, rivaling the finest flat art. Wu Fang stared spellbound at the camera, quietly tapping the screenshot button a few times.
“What’s next?” Wu Fang asked, curious.
She felt that this stone-skipping trick was already a form of art—worthy of its own feature video. Yet Chen Jue regarded this skipping-stone blossom as just a small segment in his current short video.
“We’re still skipping stones, but this time, let’s break a world record!” Chen Jue replied with a smile, guiding Wu Fang to use the drone’s auto-tracking and distance-measuring functions, then handed the gimbal to her.
“Stone-skipping world record?”
Wu Fang blinked in surprise. Before she could react, Chen Jue was already gripping an unpolished stone shard in his right hand and launching it with full force.
The stone skimmed across the lake, drifting farther and farther, while the distance meter on screen kept updating. When the stone finally sank, a bold number flashed—136.5 meters.
Seeing this, Wu Fang was momentarily stunned, then looked up at Chen Jue, masked and calm, for help. “Did we really break the world record?”
“Yes! The current distance record for stone skipping is held overseas, at 121.8 meters.”
“I just bumped it up a bit—nothing remarkable.” Chen Jue glanced at the drone’s measurement, then gestured with two fingers.
“That’s not just a bit—it’s a ton!” Wu Fang laughed out loud at Chen Jue’s antics. The distance between his fingers seemed to contain a miniature universe to her.
It was an extraordinary feat, yet Chen Jue acted as if it were nothing, urging her onward with the shoot.
“A serious man… is actually pretty handsome,” Wu Fang thought to herself.
His calm tone, that effortless mastery of his craft—Chen Jue was tugging ever more at Wu Fang’s heartstrings.
But filming continued, and Wu Fang didn’t let her feelings show. Not until they finished recording the playing-card fire-lighting and leaf-slicing sausage tricks did Wu Fang become numb with astonishment.
She couldn’t fathom how Chen Jue devised so many ingenious hidden weapon stunts. The techniques appeared simple, but in practice, they were incredibly difficult!
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She, an amateur who’d practiced rope-darts for over a decade, tried several times but never succeeded once. Especially the trick where he flew several leaves across meters of distance to slice an unwrapped sausage evenly—this surreal scene shattered Wu Fang’s imagination.
Autumn leaves are so fragile and light; most people would destroy them just by picking them up, let alone use them as hidden weapons!
What kind of delicate technique and powerful force did it take to achieve such wonders?
“Skill, skill—when craft approaches art, perhaps it’s precisely his situation!” Wu Fang couldn’t understand it, and after shooting these segments, she gazed at Chen Jue with pure admiration.
To her, Chen Jue’s hidden weapon skills were nothing short of an art form. Yet for ordinary people, this art was incomprehensibly abstract.
…
With the video finished, the two sat on the lakeside lawn, discussing editing.
Since it was Wu Fang’s first time mixing clips, she had little experience. Luckily, today’s apps are highly intuitive, requiring only basic operations.
Collaborating with Chen Jue, they spent over an hour piecing four segments together, adding a martial-arts-style soundtrack. The new skill video was ready.
No need for elaborate post-production; Chen Jue simply titled it “Skill: The Art of Hidden Weapons” and posted it on several video platforms.
“I bet this skill video will make all the hidden weapon and dart enthusiasts across the internet bow to you!” Wu Fang said, smiling, her expectations for the video’s performance rising.
“It’s not that exaggerated! With eight billion people on Earth, surely someone’s better than me.” Chen Jue waved off her praise.
Truthfully, his perfected “Hidden Weapon Throwing” skill hadn’t been pushed to its limit—his hand strength and nearsighted vision still restricted him. With a bit more strength, or if he shed his glasses, he believed he’d create even more dazzling videos.
Yet since his previous videos had all showcased hidden weapon tricks, viewers might grow tired of the theme. So Chen Jue planned to offer them something different next time.
That’s why he edited four segments into this video—to avoid monotony. In this fast-paced era of viral content, a creator’s rise and fall can be swift.
To maximize his side income from video-making, Chen Jue knew he’d have to put in extra effort and build up his attributes.
…
Wu Fang had lesson preparations to do, so after helping Chen Jue with the video, she got busy with her own tasks.
Chen Jue didn’t insist on lingering; before eleven, he packed up and left the park.
As for the accumulated earnings from their video accounts, Chen Jue had already decided: even if Wu Fang declined her share, he’d find a way to buy her gifts or treat her to a meal.
He couldn’t let her labor go unrewarded; as a man, he had to show some initiative.
…
Returning home, Chen Jue brought his filming gear inside to charge, then rested on his bed with eyes closed.
When lunchtime arrived and his stomach began to rumble, he hopped the wall to Jiang University’s cafeteria for a meal.
By then, it had been over an hour since he’d uploaded the skill video.
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During lunch, he planned to scroll for some digital “pickles” to spice up his meal. But when he checked the short-video dashboard, it was an explosion!
Views, comments, likes, saves, shares, and coins—all were skyrocketing!
His inbox and direct messages were maxed out at 999+, and every refresh sent his follower count up by hundreds—far outpacing even his previous appearance on the daily trending list.
“What the—what’s going on?”
“How is the traffic this massive?”
Chen Jue quickly opened the comment section of his new skill video. Netizens were putting their lunchtime creativity to full use, crowding the comments with eye-catching quips.
“Skill Master was right—this hidden weapon craft is straight-up art!”
“It’s become art! And as for how high that art is, it’s at least three or four stories tall (kung fu).”
“Are you sure these are hidden weapons, not torture devices? (laugh-cry)”
“I came in a curious onlooker, left utterly baffled, and offer Skill Master my daily wow and coin (kneeling).”
“I’m great at stone-skipping (smile)—my efforts often vanish like water splashes (clown).”
“Some people make videos to grab attention; Skill Master makes videos just to break world records (with a link to the stone-skipping record).”
“I want to know what happens if that card hits someone (dazed).”
“Seeing leaves slice sausage, I—a girl—actually felt phantom chills (dirty dirty).”
“I’ve decided: Skill Master is the new King of Digital Pickles!”
“@Central Plains Sword @Stone-Skipper Shen @FP Energy Guy, come out and battle digital crickets!”
“……”
Besides the comments, fans were tagging all their favorite hidden weapon and dart video creators.
A few actually responded in the comment section.
“@Central Plains Sword: Your skills are superior—I bow in admiration!”
“@FP Energy Guy: Bro! I call you brother! How do you light a match with the back of a playing card without sandpaper? Add me on WeChat!”
Even the infamous @Stone-Skipper Shen, who’d mocked Chen Jue in the first “Skill: Stone Skipping” video and told him to keep trying, posted: “Congratulations Skill Master on breaking the world record (salute and respect)”
He also hurriedly deleted his previous condescending comment to avoid being called out by netizens.
He had no choice!
He had to admit defeat!
Because Shen’s maximum stone-skipping distance was just over 100 meters—and that was with custom petal-shaped stones. Compared to Chen Jue’s new record, his own skill looked downright clownish.
Third update~
Off to bed. No injections tomorrow, so I’ll keep updating for everyone.
(End of chapter)
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