Blood spurted from Fan Chengze's palm.
A scream of terror escaped from Fan Chengze because although the iron arrow had come abruptly, he had reacted by the time it was about to hit him.
Yet in that instant, despite employing over a dozen methods, Fan Chengze still failed to evade the iron arrow.
This inescapable sensation filled the eldest son of the Fan Family with boundless fear.
What if the arrow had not struck his palm but a vital point like the Lingtai acupoint instead? What then?
Could his father, standing behind him, save him?
Fan Chengze no longer cared to pluck the two fruits from the tree, instead cradling his blood-soaked palm as he rapidly flew to his father, Fan Wuyi's side.
And the iron arrow that had injured him mysteriously vanished in the air.
Fan Wuyi suddenly narrowed his eyes.
He did not look at his injured son; as soon as the iron arrow appeared, his gaze locked onto the arrow.
That iron arrow seemed familiar.
