With a small hilltop as the core, sand and dust are like dragons, covering the sky and blocking the sun, swirling round and round towards the sky, as if the most terrifying sandstorm is coming.

  In the swirling whirlwind of crazy sandstorm, there were faintly some dark shadows, they twisted and turned, shapeless and formless, with a heavy yin energy, their cries were mournful and shrill, constantly rushing towards the summit.

  This is exactly the "Evil Spirit Demands Life" of the "Eighteen Strikes of Vengeful Souls" fueled by Old Man Cries' Crazy Sand Divine Skill!

  At the foot of the mountain, the lush green oasis withered rapidly in the flying sand and walking stones, the ground was desolate and yellow, as if all the water had been drained away. The cattle and sheep herders stood frozen in place, their skin and muscles shrinking inch by inch, and a dark shadow seemed to fly out of their bodies, towards the "evil spirits" on the mountain peak.

  This terrible scene did not stop at the small mountain and nearby oasis, but spread out in all directions for hundreds of miles, draining the souls of all living things and withering the entire earth.

  Outside of Liusha, in the midst of wind and sand, the relatively normal dry and cracked soil extends from the small mountain direction all the way to the inside of the village, and further extends to the back area.

  People one by one stopped moving, their movements slow, skin dry and shriveled, with dark shadows struggling to crawl out from inside their bodies.

  The wind and sand hit the outside of "the first house in the vast ocean", making a dense popping sound, causing this seemingly old inn to shake and creak, making a squeaking sound, as if it would soon lose its moisture, turn into powder, and collapse to the ground.

  And inside the inn, those guests at each table were like the herdsmen outside, becoming increasingly stunned and on the verge of losing their souls.

  Jiu Niang suddenly stood up, her eyebrows inverted, and shouted loudly: "You old thing, be careful of heavenly punishment! Having a son without an anus! Did my inn provoke you?"

  As she let out a cold and stern scolding, the inn seemed to be swept by a chill wind. The guests who were eating and lodging there all shivered with fear, woke up with a start, looked at each other in dismay, and were filled with dread. Meanwhile, the wooden boards on the outer wall of the inn still showed no signs of drying out, but continued to creak and groan under the wind and sand.

  "The master-level exchange is too terrifying..." muttered Sha Ke, whose eyes were like blue gemstones. This place was dozens of miles away from the site of the exchange, and yet they had almost been sucked dry of their souls. If it weren't for the mysterious Qu Jiu Niang being here, they probably wouldn't have escaped this calamity.

  The leader of the Sha guests, who was carrying a curved knife on his waist, said with fear: "Normally, when masters fight, they will converge their range to concentrate their power, but Kui Lao Ren is an exception. The more souls he absorbs, the more powerful his eighteen slaps are! To encounter such a thing, it's really damn unlucky!"

  They are the horse bandits of the vast desert, subordinates to "Vast Ocean Evil Blade" Zhen Luo, and have some understanding of the eighteen slaps of the wronged soul.

  "Big brother, shouldn't we believe in Buddha and resolve our sins so that we won't always encounter such unlucky events?"

  "Damn it!"

  ……

  Just as Meng Qi walked to the center of Liusha Village, his skin turned dark gold and locked up his body and soul, resembling a Buddhist arhat. However, the dark golden glow was growing dimmer and dimmer, like a candle flame in strong winds that could be extinguished at any moment.

  He gritted his teeth and persevered, exhausting himself to calm down. Only today did he realize the terror of the peak's grandeur, which was as frightening as a natural disaster!

  On the small mountain peak, Xuán Bēi held a dark golden rosary, reciting scriptures in a low voice. Layer upon layer of crystal light emanated from his hands, illuminating nearly half of the peak, making it resemble a Buddhist pure land.

  As the old man's palm slapped down, those vengeful spirits surged forward, like a surging black tide, occasionally letting out mournful cries above the glaze of light, only to dissipate into nothingness, and occasionally tearing at the glaze of light until it was fragmented and broken.

  Xuan Bei was neither happy nor angry, nor flustered or busy. He simply looked at the crying old man, his voice seemingly echoing in his heart:

  "Do you know why I gave up on the complete Divine Fist legacy and chose the incomplete but crucial scripture of 'Moko Fuma Ken'?"

  The old man's eyes condensed, his right palm lifted and his left palm pushed, the wind and sand suddenly fell like a dragon, while those resentful spirits became more formless and intangible, as if walking between yin and yang, making it impossible for people to resist.

  Xuan Bei finished speaking, and one of the beads on his rosary changed from dark gold to jet black. Then, he threw a punch.

  This fist seemed to fill the entire universe, its transparent and pure, like crystal, without a speck of dust.

  He was surrounded by a halo of golden light, with illusory golden lotuses blooming on the peak behind him, and a hazy void appeared in the background.

  In the void, a group of ferocious and malevolent spirits and vengeful souls surrounded a golden lotus platform with serene expressions. On top of the platform sat a Bodhisattva, his face filled with compassion and pity for all living beings, holding in his palm the constantly circulating breath of life and death, resembling the black-and-white revolving wheel of treasure, containing the great secrets of heaven and the mysteries of life and death.

  This Bodhisattva's appearance changed indistinctly, finally reaching the pinnacle of Xuan Bei's fist intent, revealing an appearance identical to his, only with a melancholy and solemn dignity.

  The Bodhisattva's mouth opened wide, and suddenly a thunderous sound echoed through the empty space:

  "After this day, in the countless billions of kalpas to come, there will be worlds where all the hells and the three evil paths exist, and I vow to rescue and liberate from these suffering realms all sentient beings who are undergoing various kinds of torture. And when they have all become Buddhas, only then will I myself attain Buddhahood."

  "As long as hell is not empty, I will not become a Buddha; only when all sentient beings are saved will I attain Bodhi."

  The sound of Zen is heard everywhere, the Buddha's light shines brightly, and the evil spirits and resentful souls that came flooding in dissipated their ferocity and venom, their faces calm and peaceful, disappearing into thin air.

  The wind and sand stopped, and the foot of the mountain also had the sound of Buddha's name. A cluster of withered dry grass gradually turned green, the dark flow sounded, the cow and sheep skin of the herdsman who was like a dry corpse slowly became plump, the black soul that flew out returned to the body, and the breath of life was full.

  The cracked earth returned to its usual tranquility, and the travelers who had lost their souls on the shifting sands escaped from "hell", feeling both bewildered and relieved.

  Inside the inn, Qiū Jiǔ Niáng's face showed a hint of surprise, and she whispered to herself: "Really, someone has practiced 'Mó Kē Fú Mó Quán' to this extent?"

  Under the breath of life and the crystal Buddha light, Meng Qi, who was tossed about by the wind and rain, finally shook off the influence of "The Eighteen Slaps of the Wronged Soul", and the dark gold flowing on his skin no longer dimmed, becoming pure once again.

  Looking at the scene in front of him, which had walked a circle between life and death, Meng Qi couldn't help but think in shock: "This is probably already a divine technique!"

  Makafushigi no Ken, Pursuing the Cycle of Life and Death!

  The old man's cry was shattered by a single move, he threw his head back and let out a long wail, the sound piercing through the clouds, shattering his body and soul, like the ghost king suppressed in the depths of hell descending upon the world.

  Black air rose around him, as if the gates of hell had opened and the yin spirits were out of control.

  Then he slapped his palm and turned over from head to toe, "The Eighteen Slaps of a Wronged Soul" - the "Ghost Gate Opens"!

  Xuan Bei and Bei Hou Pusa still with a worried and compassionate expression, his fist seemed to grasp the seal again, striking out once more, the "Save All Living Beings" of the Moka Fumo Fist!

  …………

  Meng Qi looked back and saw that the small mountain was surrounded by a vast expanse of sand, with black air and Buddhist light competing in splendor, constantly intersecting, as if it was difficult to distinguish between victory and defeat for the time being.

  He knew that with his own strength, he couldn't even get close to the mountain peak without becoming a burden. But his younger brother was alone in the inn, clumsy and inexperienced, and if things weren't handled properly, it could lead to disaster. So, he temporarily gave up on escaping from Shaolin and prepared to return to the inn to reunite with his younger brother.

  Normally, I would have no qualms about escaping on my own, but this time is special - after all, I have a deep bond with my junior brother, how could I not lend him a helping hand?

  Moreover, Meng Qi's heart was unwilling to admit but very clear that if there were other enemies, and if the old man took the upper hand again, a nightmare scene similar to being drained of water and having one's soul stolen would reappear. In that case, the safest place would be inside the inn, where there was a suspected outsider, Qu Jiu Niang.

  Meng Qi couldn't help but admit that seeking shelter and rescue was half the reason for his return to the inn, just like his younger brother.

  He had just turned around, his gaze suddenly froze, and his pupils contracted sharply, because on the street where the wind and sand were flying, a strange-looking man was standing right in front of him.

  He wore a black cloak like a Shaolin monk, with white hair but a youthful face, as if he were a young man in his twenties or thirties. The contrast between the two was particularly terrifying.

  "An Guo...!" Meng Qi called out in a low voice without turning his head and ran.

  In this case, turning one's back and running away is simply exposing one's true weakness, handing over one's vital points to others.

  An Guo Xie, "White-headed Vulture", the crying old man's disciple grandson, a master with nine orifices open at the same time, ranked 36th on the human ranking list, stronger than himself by who knows how much!

  His angular face was gaunt, with prominent cheekbones, yet he had a unique exotic beauty. A sly smile played on his lips as he teased, "My luck isn't bad, I ran into one right away. Now I won't have to worry about being punished by the old ancestor."

  An opponent who has yet to mature, he doesn't take him seriously at all, it's quite a cat-and-mouse game.

  As they spoke, he pounced forward like a vulture, his palms thrust out in a scorching hot gust of wind that left Meng Qi as if trapped in the depths of the desert, gasping for air, skin parched and dry, body dehydrated, strength depleted.

  Although he couldn't master "The 18 Slaps of the Wronged Soul", his Crazy Sand Divine Skill had already reached a high level!