The reason why Song Jinghuan looked down on this black iron bow was because she was too young and subconsciously disliked big weapons. Shen Yijia didn't expose her.
The matching arrows were made of black iron. There were a total of twelve of them.
After stringing the bow, Shen Yijia picked up an arrow. She pulled it back and shot it at the target outside the door.
Her aim was not accurate enough to hit the bull's eye, but the arrow was too fast. The huge force cut off the target and the entire arrowhead stabbed firmly into the opposite wall. The tail of the arrow trembled violently and buzzed.
Song Jinghuan's mouth fell open in shock. After a long time, she found her voice and stammered, "Yes, the bow does seem a little handsome."
If the black iron bow that was loaded with strings had finally regained its functionality, then Shen Yijia's move had injected its soul into it, allowing it to finally have its own mission.
