"The Capital Institute has eleven Taoists, thirty-six Taoist disciples, one archivist, two assistants, and one book spirit."
Arriving at the Capital Institute.
"Greetings, Lord Dean!"
The crowd, well-prepared, lined up and bowed to Song Lin in salute.
"No need for formalities, rise."
Finally entering the great hall, rows of bookshelves came into view—at least a hundred of them.
These books were the cherished collection of the Taoist Temple, accumulated over centuries.
The majority contained common knowledge, but there were also many valuable gems. Apart from spells and cultivation techniques, almost all of them were accessible to Song Lin, the sitting dean.
"Greetings, Dean!"
An elderly Taoist garbed in a white robe, exuding a scholarly aura, bowed in respect.
In front of the old Taoist was a desk with a thick tome bound in goatskin.
The book bore human-like facial features, eerily resembling the old Taoist himself.
