Long Baobao was pushed to the ground, and although he avoided the cold arrow, his hands and feet suffered multiple abrasions and cuts, sticky with blood.
But the pain in his body is nothing compared to the shock to his psyche.
His delicate little face showed a glint of bloody light in his eyes upon seeing the dead Little Lightning Minks.
Along with the cold arrow, two figures emerged nonchalantly from the dry reeds beside them.
It was now sunset, and the silhouettes of these two figures were elongated by the afterglow, clearly two adults.
One of them, witnessing the empty nest of the Lightning Minks, couldn't hide the flash of indignation in his eyes.
"You little mongrels, you ruined my plan!"
Hearing that voice, Long Baobao's small body suddenly straightened up.
That voice, he would never forget until death; it was his uncle, Long Sixuan's voice.
They had met again!
