The moon shines bright, hinting that tomorrow will be another fine day.
As usual, Liuyun Temple concluded its fifteenth prayer ceremony, and the last group of people, except for Han Yi'an, also left.
In the mountains, people often sleep early, rising and retiring in accordance with the natural rhythms, a habit ingrained in all the Taoists of Liuyun Temple.
Following local customs, upon arriving here, Yang Fan went to bed at nine o'clock.
Of course, the routine phone call couldn't be skipped. After chatting with Murong Yan for half an hour, Yang Fan fell into a deep sleep.
Some slept, but naturally, some did not.
As for Daoist Gu Cheng, who had been plagued with sleepless nights over the past few days, he couldn't sleep, not even feeling the slightest drowsiness.
The complex riddle still remained unsolved, but the time left to him was running out.
What to do had become a top priority.
