Eastern Wilderness's Sorrow

As soon as the words fell, this spatial cage began to compress inward, closing in on Meng Xiaoxiao inch by inch.

"Heh, inviting me to my death? You old thing, neither human nor ghost—you really do have an amusing way of speaking."

Meng Xiaoxiao sneered. With a slight movement of her fingertips, she summoned countless Red Ribbons from several specks of spiritual light, sending them spreading in all directions.

The Red Ribbons overlapped one another, swiftly covering every mirror surface within the space and halting the cage's compression.

"Such stale old Daoist tricks were cracked by cultivators long ago. An old thing like you, who has slept in a coffin for centuries, probably never learned that, did you?"

"The waves behind drive on the waves before; one mountain stands higher than the next. Such has been the way since ancient times. There is no need for Fellow Daoist to remind this old man."

The Eastern Wilderness patriarch's expression remained unchanged, neither joy nor anger showing on his face.

After speaking, his lips moved again, uttering several obscure words before he struck a hand seal toward Meng Xiaoxiao.

"Hmm?"

In an instant, Meng Xiaoxiao felt her divine sense tightly bound, as though someone had sealed her heart and locked away her thoughts.

"Interesting. This old thing has quite a few tricks up his sleeve."

She immediately responded by crudely transferring her divine sense into the fetus in her belly, instantly breaking free of the technique's restraints.

"Sorrowful Phoenix Sings at Dusk."

The moment her divine sense escaped, she launched her counterattack.

As the fluctuations of the spell surged, Meng Xiaoxiao's body was enveloped in a dense blood-red radiance.

She had cast this technique by borrowing the power of the fetus in her womb. It contained the battlefield bloodlust accumulated over the