Chapter 442: We Will Be Drained Dry

Fortunately the bridal sedan shattered, but the seat I sat cross-legged on remained, with a thick straw mat underneath cushioning the impact.

At this moment, I am no longer entirely myself.

The source of this tremendous power is the little guy in my belly.

He is the true master god, the key to this formation array.

What I need to do now is to have no thoughts of my own, not try to force participation, surrender control of my body, and let the little guy act.

I thought that way, and I acted accordingly.

I watched my palm turn outward as I struck, fingertips pointing upward before my chest, while obscure scriptures streamed incessantly from my mouth.

The only thing missing from my hand was a string of Buddhist beads.

As the scriptures poured out, centered on my body, strings of golden scriptural characters spread outward in rings.

The scripture ring lay above, while beneath my feet a strong earth qi surged from all directions into my body, then out through the scripture ring, forming a cycle.

Feng Xianqiu's massive black wings flapped incessantly, shattering one scripture ring after another; the scattered scriptures vanished or drifted beside him, bobbing with the air currents.

After lasting two or three minutes like this, I felt the scriptures I chanted suddenly change.

A black feather fell to the ground.

The scripture ring vanished abruptly; Feng Xianqiu clenched his hands, his usually scholarly eyes now blood‑red, brimming with bloodthirsty killing intent.

He raised both hands, formed a seal, and a cluster of black flame condensed at his fingertips—then he stopped.

Because he noticed that, as he moved, the scattered scriptural characters floating around him also stirred.

They flickered and contracted, like a golden bell cover enveloping his entire body.

Feng Xianqiu instinctively stepped forward two paces, and the golden bell cover tightened suddenly.

Feng Xianqiu panicked for no reason, wanting to spread his wings, but the golden bell cover left no room for them to unfold.

More black feathers rained down with a rustle; in places where too many had fallen, flesh was exposed.

The speed of my chanting increased, and the golden bell cover grew tighter and tighter.

Feng Xianqiu finally came to his senses, sat cross‑legged on the ground, and began forming seals.

His mastery of witchcraft was high; had he not underestimated the enemy at the outset, he could have countered with witchcraft when the scripture ring first appeared and avoided being trapped by the golden bell cover.

Only now did he try to unleash his signature skill, but under the golden bell cover's pressure his seal‑forming repeatedly failed.

Even sound could not escape the golden bell cover, blocking the chance to summon a bird formation.

At this moment, Feng Xianqiu was like a trapped beast, the more he struggled the deeper he sank.

I felt inexplicably exhilarated.

If today we could kill Feng Xianqiu here, it would be immensely satisfying.

But just then, a deeper, more resonant chanting surged from all directions with irresistible force, booming— the golden bell cover exploded, and I felt a powerful qi rebound against me.

My palm swiftly turned and I struck out against that qi.

The two qi streams collided, shaking heaven and earth.

My body swayed, a faint pain in my lower abdomen faded, and looking ahead, Feng Xianqiu had vanished.

He had been rescued.

Around me in the four directions, four people lay collapsed, each with a pool of blood before them.

I rose to my feet, scanned the surroundings, and found no trace of anyone.

That person came and left without a trace.

No, he might not have come at all; perhaps he merely sensed Feng Xianqiu's plea for help and, from afar, interrupted the little guy's spell with a chant.

Li Qingying and Tang Tang rushed out, helped everyone up, and returned to the Dang Pu.

My condition turned out to be the best among the five of us.

I said guiltily, "Perhaps the little guy's ability is insufficient, and my cultivation isn't enough to support him against the foe, dragging you all down."

"No, he hasn't dragged us down; he's strong," Hu Sanmei said. "He is the master god, a true Buddha, and the four directional Buddhas beside him should also be true Buddhas, whereas we four… are merely animal immortals."

"This formation array should have been a joint effort of the master god and the four directional Buddhas, but the evil monk created us, using our four cultivations as a sacrifice to the master god. In other words, if today it weren't the little guy but Second Master Liu occupying the master god's seat, our fate would have been only one outcome."

Hui Moqiong immediately interjected, "At that moment I strongly felt we would be drained dry!"

"Right," Hu Sanmei said, "but the little guy didn't choose to drain our cultivation without limit; instead he drew on his own strength to pull earth qi from Wufu Town to sustain his practice. Ultimately, we still held him back."

That's how it was.

Bái Sōnglán's face was awful: "It's him……"

Everyone's gaze turned to Bái Sōnglán, and Hui Moqiong pressed, "Who?"

"Back when the evil monk met his misfortune, it was thanks to this chant; I wouldn't mistake it." Bái Sōnglán looked at Hui Moqiong. "Haven't you noticed?"

Hui Moqiong shook his head hesitantly: "Back then, at the critical moment I felt possessed, my mind was foggy, and I can't clearly recall how I ended up trapped on that hill of the Dou family ancestral tomb."

Hu Sanmei said, "He must be Di Luan, right?"

No one dared to say so with certainty.

Because that chant arrived too suddenly and vanished just as fast, we never saw its source.

I have met Di Luan and even crossed hands with him, but my deepest impression of him is actually the Heaven‑Earth Mandarin Duck Hook.

I looked anxiously at the four of them and asked, "Are you all alright?"

Obviously they were not doing well.

Especially Huang Fan, the youngest with the lowest cultivation, who could only sit cross‑legged in the corner meditating; given his state, it would be best for him to enter seclusion.

Such a formation array seems to have reached its limit with this use; it cannot be lightly employed again.

It's a pity we couldn't kill Feng Xianqiu.

Bái Sōnglán grabbed my wrist, felt my pulse, his expression shifted instantly, then he pressed my abdomen and asked, "Xiao Jiu, do you feel any discomfort?"

"No," I replied, "What's wrong?"

She probed again carefully, this time she should have felt the pulse, obviously relieved: "Maybe it's too much depletion, the child is curled up in the egg sac resting, the pulse beats one jump after another."

But I was even more worried in my heart.

Bái Sōnglán's pulse-feeling technique is superb; previously, such a slightly weak pulse would not have been detectable, and this can only indicate one thing: her depletion is also great.

I really wanted to send them all back into seclusion, but given the current situation, nobody can leave.

All we can do is assign each of them a side room and let them go back to rest.

Just as I finished arranging that, Tang Tang ran over to find me, anxiously saying, "Xiao Jiu, go check on Sister Yu Nian……"