On Taiyin Mountain, within the Taiyin Emperor Temple.
Under the shroud of night, in front of the majestic statue of the Emperor, a middle-aged monk with a pale, beardless face sat cross-legged, facing the statue with eyes slightly closed.
In the dim candlelight, a brass magic sword lay across his knees, exuding a deadly aura.
Those young monks, who seemed so gentle during the day, now entered one after another, but at this moment, the faces of these young monks carrying magic swords had lost some of their warmth—they were still smiling, but this smile now carried a hint of disdain.
Of course, upon seeing the middle-aged monk in front of the statue, they all swiftly collected their expressions and bowed respectfully to the back of the middle-aged monk.
"Master!"
"No need for formalities."
The middle-aged monk slightly opened his eyes, though he didn't even turn his head.
"How's it going, have all the new scriptures been distributed?"
"They're all distributed, Master."
