Cloud Tower Temple.
No matter how chaotic the world became, the Buddhist kingdom atop the heavens was forever suffused with boundless golden light. Since the turmoil across the Nine Provinces had begun, Cloud Tower Temple had closed its gates and sealed its mountain, forbidding its disciples from going out. They hoped to avoid this calamity in such a manner.
Though they could not go out and about, monastics had few desires and tranquil hearts. The monks within the temple did not find it dull; they merely devoted themselves to cultivation. Yet recently, the younger disciples seemed somewhat unable to focus on their practice.
Morning lessons had just ended when the young disciples sat down wherever they could, took out their Immortal Friends Circle tokens, poured divine sense into them, and began typing furiously. From time to time, someone too overwhelmed by excitement would blurt out a few improper, vulgar words, defiling the mountain gate. Quite a few had already been punished for it.
"Pushan, how did you manage to type so much in an instant?" one of his fellow disciples could not help asking. "I haven't even organized my thoughts, and you've already sent so many words."
"Hehe, that's the wonder of cultivating the Silent Meditation," Pushan said with a spare grin. Then his brows and eyes immediately tensed again as he threw himself into another round of furious typing.
"Pushan alone is worth a hundred men. These little lackeys from Mist Hidden are nothing!" a fellow disciple laughed heartily.
As it turned out, since the two sides were allies, Cloud Tower Temple had recently drifted above Mist Hidden Immortal Mountain, completely blocking the heavenly light above Mist Hidden.
Then a Mist Hidden disciple made a small complaint on the Immortal Friends Circle.
Originally, it had been nothing more than