Song qingxiao watched with interest as Zhang shouyi's face shriveled up. His skin and flesh had rotted, and his beard had lost its luster. The battle robe that had rotted beyond repair hung on his empty body, showing his status as a great general in the past.
His skin quickly rotted and turned black. In an instant, he turned from a living being into a walking corpse.
His eyes were like dried grapes, losing their luster, but they carried a terrifying and dense Yin Qi.
The bow and arrow in his hand also rotted and aged, but compared to its new appearance before, song qingxiao finally felt a trace of killing intent.
This was the Zhang shouyi of a hundred years later!
He was still trapped in the dream. Even if he was strong and had a sharp weapon in his hand, he could not shoot song qingxiao from a hundred years ago because he was in the same situation.
