He stretched out his arms, exhaled a breath, then took a deep one, the breath distorting the wind lines around, like a tightly drawn bowstring.
An arrow shot out swiftly.
Amidst the wild wind and great waves, the arrow was as small as a blade of grass, which seemed ridiculous to outsiders—it was said that the tenth under heaven drew the bow and strung an arrow, only for it to fly crookedly. Yet this seemingly childish arrow could travel against the wind, darting toward Chen Yi.
The arrow seemed half-alive, bouncing in the airflow. Chen Yi saw the trick and, without changing the momentum of his right hand sword, drew a knife with his left hand; he did not easily unleash a fierce and yang Wind-breaking and Rain-cutting strike, as aimed to shift weights using minimal effort.
