A bamboo arrow flew through the air. It did not let out a soul-chasing howl; instead, because it was slender and lacked a cold arrowhead, it seemed strangely quiet.
It merged with the whistling spring wind over the wasteland.
Hua Mantian's divine sense had locked onto Wang Xian atop the mountain, and naturally, it had also locked onto the bamboo arrow that had left the bowstring.
In her eyes, even if a bamboo arrow without a sharp arrowhead caught up with the old monk on the wasteland, what kind of harm could it possibly inflict?
She even complained inwardly, How stingy can you be? You clearly have iron arrows, yet you refuse to use them and insist on using such a thin bamboo arrow.
Could it be that you intend to kill someone without a sound?
Or are you warning me to abandon my thoughts of avenging that dead man?
That instant was too fast—so fast that her mind had no time to return to that moment long ago in Hundred Flowers Tower...
The spring wind howling across the wasteland had already reached behind the old monk.
The old monk was gravely wounded, and his freshly changed gray robe had already become tattered beyond recognition. Blood flowed from wounds all over his body, yet he did not hesitate in the slightest.
He allowed the countless wounds on his body to bleed freely.
The old monk's expression remained calm and resolute.
In his view, as long as he darted another thousand zhang, he would be far away from Sumeru Stone Mountain.
Even if the youth had a divine bow in his hands, so what?
Could it be that your arrow can cross distance itself?
Watching the old monk charging wildly through the wind, Wang Xian put away his divine bow. He