King of Yin took an arrow to his body and was unusually calm, standing in place with a gloomy expression. He reached out with his slender, fair finger like a woman's and ran it over a streak of his gray-white hair, speaking in a low voice, "You've cut my lifespan?"
"How about it? Do you still want this Bow of Years and Arrow of Years?" Yang Ji smiled, noticing the King of Yin's composure, and a flicker of surprise passed through his eyes.
An ordinary person, struck by an arrow, would certainly flee, yet the King of Yin stood firm on the spot, his aura growing increasingly intense, and his eyes growing even colder.
