The young bandit barely finished his words he found that his partner who had been knocked by the wood stick was standing on the ground motionlessly, instead of being stimulated to fly up high. On his silent face, there wasn't a hint of agony, misery, or pain.
"Fly?" Qian Jin lifted his hand and tapped the thick timber piles with his forefinger softly, producing a string of dull sounds which resembled the clash of an iron stick knocking on the wood stick. "You long to fly so ardently?"
How come? The two young bandits changed their faces at the same time. How did this person escape from the impact force made by the tumbling timber piles? Judging from the knocking sound, he should have infused a lot of force.
But in case there was infused enough force, his fingers would easily be hurt. However…
