Feng Jun held the ancestral tablet for over an hour before placing it on the stone table and picking up his cup to drink water.
Then he lit a cigarette and, while smoking, his soul wandered the heavens, lost in thought.
The people present all knew he must have some ideas, but no one dared to ask aloud.
The four Taoists from Maoshan had much to say, however, no one took it upon themselves to speak first.
After finishing a cigarette, Feng Jun took two sips of tea and then sighed lightly, "Maoshan has indeed produced some figures."
The short and chubby Taoist's brows raised, and just as he was about to speak, he abruptly remembered the scolding that left him bleeding from all orifices and held back his words.
Daoist Ma cleared his throat and said, "Naturally, Maoshan has a long and distinguished lineage, with outstanding figures emerging in every generation."
