Thud!
A feathered arrow grazed past Changping's hair and struck into the window wood of the elegant room, the arrow's tail trembling slightly.
"Ah!" Someone screamed first, unknown who it was.
Whizz, whizz!
Another series of feathered arrows came shooting over.
Wufu pressed the completely frozen Changping down, and before having a chance to say anything, several masked black-clad figures wielding knives leapt down, shouting, "Zhao Mingjun, meet your death!"
"Assassins, there are assassins!"
Wufu cursed in his heart: Damn, nothing good happens when encountering Zhao Mingjun, this is truly an undeserved calamity.
The black-clad figures moved swiftly, jumping over the beauty railing into the corridor, slashing indiscriminately at anyone blocking their path, blood splattering everywhere.
