Shen Yanchuan tilted his head slightly, a half-smile on his face.
"If you're trying to kill me, you might want to aim a little better."
The man's face instantly turned livid with rage.
He looked disheveled, but the wounds on his body were fake—nothing more than a couple of superficial cuts from a dagger to keep up appearances. They didn't affect him at all.
But just now, his arrow had actually missed!
Even a three-year-old could have made that shot from mere inches away!
The men beside him hadn't expected such an accident either, and they all turned to look.
With a grim expression, the man drew the crossbow string again!
"Don't be so arrogant! Just you wait—"
The man's voice suddenly faltered.
He had suddenly found that the crossbow felt much heavier, to the point where he could no longer hold it steady!
He panicked for a moment.
'How could this be happening?'
He grit his teeth and struggled to aim the crossbow, trying to draw the string—but found he couldn't pull it!
