"Who is it?"
Tang Wanhong's teeth were trembling slightly as he asked in a low voice.
At that moment, the shadow flicked its sleeve, scattering a cloud of medicinal powder onto Tang Wanhong's face.
A flash of fear crossed Tang Wanhong's mind. Feeling the powder stick to his face like powder applied suddenly, he attempted to hold his breath, but it was too late. The potency of the powder was obvious, and in an instant, his vision went black, and he lost consciousness.
Duan Rong looked in the darkness at Tang Wanhong, who was unconscious beside the pile of hay.
He concentrated his thoughts, and the range of his Divine Sense expanded to its maximum in an instant.
It was dark all around, and the patrolling heavy armored soldiers were holding lanterns as they moved to the other end.
