The golden cicada monk caressed the silver scales on the neck of the jade dragon colt, and suddenly saw the Lankavatara Sutra in his arms spontaneously burning without wind. The blue smoke condensed into a ghost-faced boatman, and the paddle in his hand was actually made of flat peach wood.
"Sir, be careful!" Reverend Xin Yuan's fire eyes surged, and Ruyi's iron soldiers were already at the boatman's throat. But the monster turned to the silent curtain general: "Do you still remember, Mr. Xing? When Kui Su fell two hundred years ago, not only the Milky Way was dyed red by the quicksand?"
Mu Mu Yuanjun's nine-tooth nail rake suddenly screamed, and the true fire of Taiyin flickered between the teeth. The epiphyllum flowers under everyone's feet were withering one after another, and each petal reflected the heavenly prison rack - what was locked on it was the immortal body of the twenty-eight constellations!
