Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

Artist Fang jumped up from his chair, pointed at the screen, his mouth agape for a long time, then turned to host Cao: "Five shots—all five hit the bullseye??? 25 meters???"

The host, Cao, sat up straight, his script rolled into a tube, his expression somewhere between "I don't understand" and "Is this something that should appear on a variety show?"

"Did our production team give us the wrong script? Isn't this a dating reality show?"

Teacher Wei laughed out loud, adjusting her glasses as she did so: "Look closely at Zhuang Wenmin's expression—"

The camera cuts to Zhuang Wenmin.

She stood to the side and slightly behind the shooting position, arms crossed, originally intending to watch the spectacle.

When He Xu finished firing those five shots, her arm had already come down.

She glanced at the target paper, then at He Xu, her expression changing from "watching the show" to "looking at a monster."

Then it slowly transformed into something that was scrutinized and whose interest was rekindled.

"Are you here to show off?" she asked.

"Do you think I'm that shameless?" He Xu said. "I brought you here to have fun, you should like it."

Zhuang Wenmin stared at him for two seconds without refuting him, but simply turned her head back to look at the target paper: "You certainly know how to pick a spot."

The instructor walked over, took another gun from the counter, reloaded the magazine, and handed it to Zhuang Wenmin: "Come on, let me show you around."

Zhuang Wenmin took the gun, her grip much more proper than He Xu had expected.

With hands clasped, arms outstretched, and shoulders slightly shrugged, it was clear that the pose was taken according to a standard template after listening to the safety instructions.

The coach stood to her side and slightly behind, pointing to the operating procedure on the table: "Fire five dry shots first to get a feel for the trigger travel."

Zhuang Wenmin pulled the trigger five times.

Her movements were precise, with roughly equal intervals between each shot, but her entire shoulder would twitch slightly when she pulled the trigger.

The recoil from using your fingers to apply force will be transmitted to your shoulders, which is a common bad habit among beginners.

"Load," the coach said.

She pulled the slide very carefully, and after pulling it, she looked down at the ejection port to confirm that the bullet had indeed gone in.

"Aim at the target and fire automatically."

Zhuang Wenmin raised her gun, squinted at the sights for a moment, and then pulled the trigger.

boom.

The spent cartridge ejected, and the recoil caused her to lean back slightly, her shoulders visibly hunching.

The coach glanced at the target paper and said politely but truthfully, "Too high, you missed. When you pulled the trigger, you used your shoulder, and the muzzle rose half an inch."

Zhuang Wenmin frowned but didn't say anything.

The second shot.

boom.

"It's still too high."

The third shot.

boom.

"The Fifth Ring Road".

Zhuang Wenmin put the gun down, glanced at the bullet holes scattered along the edge of the target paper, her expression unchanged, but He Xu noticed that her fingers tightened their grip on the gun handle a little.

The coach patiently explained, "Don't rush, it's normal for a beginner to get this score on their first try. Try using the pad of your index finger to slowly press back when you pull the trigger, don't use your knuckles, and don't anticipate the recoil. Make the gun fire a little 'unexpected'."

Zhuang Wenmin nodded and raised her gun again.

The fourth shot.

boom.

"The Sixth Ring Road is a little better than before."

The fifth shot.

boom.

"Fifth Ring Road. My shoulders are still a bit tight."

Zhuang Wenmin put down the gun, exhaled, and glanced at He Xu.

He Xu leaned against the partition next to her, her arms crossed, and didn't say a word after she fired her third shot, just kept watching.

"What did you figure out?" Zhuang Wenmin asked.

He Xu tilted his head slightly, as if he was going through the images of those shots in his mind, then walked over and stood behind her.

"Your grip on the gun is fine," he said. "The problem is your center of gravity."

"Center of gravity?"

"Your feet are too close together, and your weight is constantly on your heels. When you fire, the recoil pushes you back, and the muzzle of the gun moves upwards."

Zhuang Wenmin looked down at her feet—they were indeed pressed together quite tightly.

He Xu stood beside her and tilted his head slightly: "Spread your feet a little apart, shoulder-width apart. Take a small half step forward with your left foot, bend your knee slightly, and shift your weight onto the ball of your foot."

Zhuang Wenmin did as instructed. But after she finished adjusting, He Xu still shook his head.

"You've shifted a little to the right. Your center of gravity should be here." He extended his right hand, placed his palm on her lower back, and gently pressed down. "Here, move a little this way."

Zhuang Wenmin's back tensed slightly.

He Xu placed his palm on her lower back, not with much force, but the position was too far in, as if pushing her center of gravity from the outside to the inside.

She didn't dodge or say anything; she simply shifted her hips half an inch to the right, following his force.

"Now you're steady." He Xu withdrew his hand, took half a step back, and said, "Let's try another shot."

Zhuang Wenmin raised her gun again.

This time when she pulled the trigger, the muzzle bounce was noticeably less than before.

boom.

The coach glanced to the side and said, "The eighth ring road...we're getting close to the ninth ring road."

Zhuang Wenmin's lips twitched slightly.

He Xu stood to the side, neither praising her nor saying "again," but simply glancing at her grip, then reaching out to lift her right hand up slightly.

"Don't tuck your thumb under the grip; just keep it close to the side. The way you were gripping it just now will cause your thumb to be jolted open when you fire, affecting your recovery rhythm for the next shot."

When his fingers touched the back of her hand, there was a dry, crisp force, as if he already knew which angle to adjust, without any unnecessary movements.

This time, Zhuang Wenmin scored nine rings.

In the observation room, Fang Yiren had completely abandoned her sitting posture, lying face down on the table with her hands cupping her face, as if she were watching something incredible.

"My God—those two moves He Xu just made, one against my lower back, the other pinching the back of my hand—what kind of textbook-level physical contact instruction is that?"

The host, Cao, laughed so hard he slapped his thigh: "And his expression didn't change at all throughout the whole thing. I don't even know if he did it on purpose."

Teacher Wei pushed up his glasses, his tone carrying a very serious analytical quality: "Did you notice a detail? When he helped Zhuang Wenmin adjust her posture, he only touched two places, her lower back and the back of her hand."

Both of these were "functional contacts," without anything extra. And because his touches were so natural, Zhuang Wenmin didn't flinch. If it were someone else who immediately put their arm around her shoulder or touched her wrist, she probably would have backed away long ago.

Fang Yi turned to look at Teacher Wei: "That's true, after all, they're not doing this for physical contact, but for teaching."

Wang Yiren, holding his coffee cup, slowly added, "But you see, shooting ranges can also promote physical contact."

Fang Yiren immediately chimed in, "Right, right, that's exactly what I was thinking—if anyone ever says that dates can only be done at coffee shops or to watch movies, I'll show them this. But then again, while shooting ranges can promote physical contact, you need to have the skills to teach others. If you put someone who can't shoot up there to teach, your date will probably just turn around and walk away."

The host, Cao, laughed and said, "So the key isn't the 'shooting range,' it's 'He Xu.'"