The Yang Residence man hurriedly replied, "Just one."
Senior Sister Cen's eyes widened slightly as she muttered, "That's not right. How could there only be one?"
After Sikong Jing was struck by one arrow, Pei Yuzheng had followed up with a second. There should have been two arrows. The arrow they had dug up ought to have been the follow-up arrow, since it had no blood on it.
Logically, with Pei Yuzheng firing at such close range, the second arrow should have gone deeper than the first.
Yet they had found the second arrow, but neither the first arrow nor Sikong Jing's corpse. Something seemed to be wrong.
Just as a chill suddenly ran through Senior Sister Cen's heart, a mild voice sounded. "Are you looking for the second arrow? It's with me."
The voice came utterly without warning...
In an instant, the hair on the hundred people, including Senior Sister Cen, stood on end. They abruptly turned toward the source of the voice.
Then they saw a young man in black sitting in a tree beside the small pool, casually toying with a golden arrow in his hand. If it wasn't Sikong Jing, who else could it be?
Thud, thud, thud...
At that instant, Senior Sister Cen instinctively staggered backward again and again.
The others also gaped, nearly all pointing at Sikong Jing as they cried out strangely, "Y-you, you..."
None of them could speak properly anymore. They had been scared stiff.
Because Sikong Jing did not have the slightest wound on his body, nor even the faintest trace of mud.
He looked as though he was in better condition than ever.
But how was that possible?
That had been Pei Yuzheng's incomparably terrifying arrow. They had clearly seen Sikong Jing pierced through by it and smashed into the