Blood spurted out of the wound, and beads of sweat seeped out of the coachman's forehead. He gritted his teeth and let out a muffled groan. Then, he pulled out the sleeve arrow.
The coachman glared at Master Wen Jiang with an overbearing and furious expression as he felt the excruciating pain. At this moment, he rushed forward at the fastest speed possible. The long sword in his hand was about to land on Master Wen Jiang's body.
Master Wen Jiang sneered as he watched the scene. He then stepped back and immediately put some distance between him and the coachman.
Without giving the coachman any time to react, the sneer on Master Wen Jiang's lips grew even more pronounced. He raised his hand and a large amount of medicinal powder fell on the coachman's face.
The coachman's expression quickly twisted. Then, as if he had been provoked, his body trembled and he suddenly sneezed a few times. "What is this smell? What kind of despicable means did you use?"
