The side hall of the Phosphorfire Hall sported a battle-damaged look, with drafts blowing in from every direction.
Jiang Jingnian sat on a sandalwood chair missing one corner, holding the sect's newly purchased magneto hand-crank telephone.
What about the old one?
The Phosphorfire Hall was full of holes, with barely a few electric lights left. What old telephone could possibly have survived?
Naturally, the shock waves of battle had shattered it.
Over the past few months, Cloudpool Cliff had either been undergoing repairs or preparing for them.
As for communication...
In this day and age.
No telecommunications network existed in the full sense of the term.
Telephone calls between cities, or even countries, depended entirely on laid telephone lines and manual switchboards.
A call from Qingtian County to Peace City required transfers by operators in two different locations.
And a call from Lin'an to Qingtian County, then onward to Cloudpool Cliff.
Required six or seven transfers.
The waiting alone for this call had taken over ten minutes.
And this newly repaired line required more than ordinary access privileges, yet the process was still this cumbersome.
Liu Qingzhi's voice came through the receiver, tinged with anxiety. "Junior brother, I heard something terrible happened at Cloudpool Cliff. Are you all right?"
"There's no major problem at Cloudpool Cliff."
Jiang Jingnian sounded calm. "The Old Mysterious Mountain Dao Lord suffered cultivation deviation and threw the sect into chaos. I've already slain him. Just focus on the Southern Martial Gathering. There's no need to worry about things here."
"As for those who fled, tell them the sect's farce is over. If they receive a message from the sect, they can come straight back."
The other end fell silent for a moment.
Then Liu Qingzhi spoke again, audibly relieved. "That's good. Be careful yourself."
"Mm."