"He didn't hit the target."
Soon after, a white flag was raised behind the target, and the order soldier picked up the arrow and ran back from where it had fallen.
"Oh."
Sighs came from the grass field one after another.
Young men and women who come to participate in the event saw where it had landed and shed a tear of sympathy for him.
"This person doesn't have enough arm strength; he couldn't shoot far enough, it fell 20 meters short."
Lin Qingluo had strong perception and could see clearly in the dark; she shook her head slightly with regret.
"The first arrow failed, and the next one is unlikely to succeed."
Feng Yi gave a fair evaluation: "Unless he surpasses his limits with fierce unwillingness to give in."
"He is going to shoot the second arrow."
Wang Meng's eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the archer, simulating in his mind his own shooting posture.
His brothers also held their breaths, staring intently at the archer.
"Ahem."
