In the end, he watched helplessly as Prince Chun took away two coins.

Xie Yunhao hurriedly caught the Jasper Pendant.

Immediately, a cool breath penetrated into the palms of my hands, traveling along my arms to my mind, and the trembling and sense of separation from my body disappeared.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Then he said in a solemn voice, "What kind of miraculous feat is this?"

Ning Zhenzhen said softly: "It should be the sound of the demon-suppressing dragon."

As expected, he is worthy of the famous Yuande Divine Monk and of the Great Miaolian Temple. This demon-suppressing dragon sound has a preemptive effect.

In such a sudden move, the other party almost collapsed.

Look at the fourteen old men in black robes. Their black robes are fluttering, as if they are standing in the strong wind, and their skeleton-like faces are gritted with teeth.

"Amitabha!" Divine Monk Yuande joined the chorus again, his voice getting deeper and deeper, like a low roar from ancient times.

Even though Ning Zhenzhen and Xie Yunhao were far apart, and even though the Heart-Cleaning Mantra was lingering around them, they still felt their eardrums being hit hard, with rumbles like thunder rolling around their ears.

"Amitabha!" Eight middle-aged monks shouted at the same time, the sound sounding like a voice coming from the nine heavens.

The two voices coincided.

"Bang bang bang bang bang...!"

Fourteen old men in black robes flew out one after another, spraying blood arrows in the air, and fell heavily into the bamboo forest.

Xie Yunhao was dumbfounded. He didn't expect that Monk Yuande and the others were so fierce.

A sword without bloodshed.

Ning Zhenzhen watched intently.

She looked solemn, not happy, because she found that the expression of Yuande Divine Monk was not relaxed, but more solemn.

She then looked at the fourteen black-robed old men lying in the bamboo forest.

After they sprayed out a blood arrow, they did not feel weak. Instead, their eyes were bright and brighter.

Monk Yuande put his palms together and bowed to Ning Zhenzhen and the others.

Ning Zhenzhen gritted his teeth and flashed three times. The green shadow had already crossed more than 300 meters and landed next to the fourteen black-robed old men, moving his palm out.

Like jade butterflies flying, they lightly knocked away two old men in black robes, and then dodged and knocked away two more.

"Amitabha!" Monk Yuande proclaimed the Buddha's name again.

This chant of the Buddha became deeper and deeper, as if it was resounding from heaven and earth.

"Amitabha!" The high-pitched and exciting Buddha's name rang out, matching his name, filling the space between heaven and earth.

Ning Zhenzhen's figure became light, psychedelic, and slow, and she easily knocked six people away with her palms.

In the blink of an eye, only four old men in black robes were left without being hit by the palm.

The four old men in black robes turned around and left when they saw this, but were caught up by Ning Zhenzhen.

"Amitabha!" The voices of Monk Yuande and the other eight monks rang out at the same time, causing the four old men in black robes to freeze.

Then they were knocked away by Ning Zhenzhen.

Ning Zhenzhen flashed away quickly and returned to Xie Yunhao.

Divine Monk Yuande Piao came to Ning Zhenzhen, while the other eight monks went to pick up the old men in black robes who had fallen to the ground.

"Thank you so much, donor Mo." Yuande, the divine monk, said his thanks solemnly.

Ning Zhenzhen smiled faintly: "The little girl is just the icing on the cake, Master Yuande has worked hard."

Monk Yuande shook his head calmly: "Without Donor Mo, I'm afraid it would take a lot of effort."

The demon-suppressing dragon sound of Daimyolian Temple specializes in restraining this kind of spiritual magic.
Chapter completed!