After firing six shots in a row, Song Xiang scored an eight-ring shot, but still only missed one.
Although Lin Cong felt strange, he took a look at Song Xiang and found that her face was flushed with joy. She was really surprised.
Some people are really lucky and he didn't think much about it.
To be on the safe side, he didn't hide the next two shots and directly shot an eighth-ring score.
Song Xiang opened two seven-rings, and the battle situation was suddenly three-rings behind.
"I'm going to lose."
Song Xiang sighed and looked a little unhappy.
Lin Cong breathed a sigh of relief, looked happy, and pretended to be a gentleman to comfort Song Xiang.
"You've fought well."
Song Xiang pouted, a little squeamish, and dropped the gun.
He turned around and shouted to Yan Han: "Mr. Yan, help me."
As soon as she shouted, Mr. Li and Mr. Du next to her burst out laughing, convinced of her relationship with Yan Han.
Nian Anxi had a sullen face and was extremely disgusted by this behavior.
In the field, Lin Cong did not expect Song Xiang to suddenly change his mind.
"What? Are you cheating?"
Song Xiang crossed her arms across her chest and stamped her feet on the spot, "Then you give it to me. Let Mr. Yan take the last two shots for me. Anyway, you are three rings ahead, and Mr. Yan can't win."
Lin Cong paused.
He originally wanted to test whether Yan Han was injured or not, but it was troublesome for Yan Han not to leave the game.
Song Xiang took the initiative to speak, which was also an opportunity.
"That's okay..."
His answer was as expected by Song Xiang.
From the beginning, Song Xiang had no intention of finishing the ten blows by herself. Even if she won, Lin Cong still had the chance to find Yan Han again. Yan Han's arm would definitely be destroyed if he was shot ten times in a row.
But if you only have the last two shots left, you should be able to hold on.
She finished thinking in her mind, raised her head, and smiled at Yan Han.
On the stage, Mr. Li urged Yan Han.
"Mr. Yan, hurry up and save the beauty."
Yan Han pursed his thin lips tightly, slightly curved the corners of his mouth, unbuttoned his cufflinks in a dignified manner, and entered the venue with one hand in his pocket.
He approached from afar, and that face alone was enough to overwhelm Lin Cong.
Lin Cong was unhappy and felt angry.
Song Xiang stood nearby, pointed the muzzle of the gun down, and handed it to Yan Han.
Yan Han did not wear a protective mask, nor did he respond to her movements, but walked behind her.
"Play your own game."
Song Xiang was stunned.
Before she could react, Yan Han had already wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and raised her wrist.
There was a burst of exclamation in the headset, mixed with the banter between Li and Du.
Lin Cong was beside him, his eyes turning green.
He made up his mind to severely humiliate Han Han, so he preemptively fired the gun with a loud bang.
Eight rings.
Song Xiang breathed a sigh of relief and felt the chest behind him.
According to the current situation, Yan Han needs ten rings to be safe.
"Pay attention." A man's voice came to my ears.
She curled her lips and stood up straight.
Her wrist was held by the man, and one hand was held tightly by him. She had no room to use any force, she was just held by him.
This kind of ambiguity is the best cover for conspiracy.
Lin Cong would never have imagined that the first eight shots were all traps set by Song Xiang.
Bang!
Ten rings!
Everyone cheered, and Lin Cong's face darkened.
Song Xiang leaned in Yan Han's arms and subconsciously looked at Yan Han's arms.
It was his right arm that exerted force, and he injured his left arm.
In order to deceive others, his left hand was not hanging in the air when he fired, but was always held up.
The impact just now might have caused the wound to burst.