In front of everyone flew an elder wearing a golden monk robe and a black monk hat, with a black mole at the corner of each side of his mouth, his eyebrows and beard had turned white. He appeared kind and benevolent, sitting cross-legged on a nine-tiered rose-colored lotus magic treasure, steadily approaching.
From time to time, golden light ribbons brushed past him, with fist-sized lotus light shadows constantly falling.
There were also subtle sounds of bells, drums, wooden fish, sutras chanting, and singing entering the ears, making the listener's heart calm and free of troubles.
"The old bald donkey of the Lotus sect!" the elder woman named Zhao almost bit her teeth as she said.
The other party is clearly on the side of the Corpse-Driving Sect; the position is clear without asking, so naturally, she wouldn't be polite in her words.
"Patron Zhao, your inner fire is flourishing, and your Spirit Platform is impure.
