"Fellow Thompson! Are you alright?"
One by one, the Cultivation Masters came forward to shake hands with me.
I stood there, smiling so much that my face felt a bit stiff.
There were even more Daoists here than during the previous support at Mount Sterling.
I had heard from The Grimy Master that because of Peter King's situation, Mount Sterling had called back many disciples roaming the world, which explained the large gathering.
What secretly startled me was the overly intense gaze these people had when looking at me.
I felt a bit puzzled and inexplicably uneasy.
"Ah! Baker Fellow Thompson!"
Suddenly, the crowd parted, and several white-haired old Daoists walked over.
They had amiable, kind expressions, the epitome of benevolent elders, but the way they stared at me made me even more anxious.
"Baker Fellow Thompson, we heard... you can refine pills? Come, take a look at this pill recipe."
An old Daoist walked up, took out a wrinkled piece of parchment, and handed it to me.
