Just as Yang Zhengshan and his party moved into the small courtyard, guests in several other small courtyards on Linfeng Island were discussing them.
Li Shangyuan wore a robe of blue-green cloth, with a white jade hairpin thrust through his jet-black topknot. He had thick brows and large eyes, a square face, and as he sat there without the slightest change in expression, he gave off a powerful, imposing air.
"That group should have at least four Innate Martial Artists. The one leading them has quite an extraordinary bearing. His beard hangs past his belly, drifting like clouds, each strand like ink threads threaded through with silver, glossy and lustrous. Judging by his posture, his presence is martial and commanding, with the awe-inspiring air of a great general from the army!"
"There is also an old Daoist in a Daoist robe, holding a fly whisk. That old Daoist looks rather aged, but every movement of his hands and feet is relaxed and free, so his cultivation may not be low!"
"Another one is very strange. His face is pale and beardless, his hair is black, and he looks very young, yet between his brows and eyes he seems to have some age to him. He feels very odd!"
"The last one wears a mask, carries a long sword at his waist, and has a rather cold temperament. I can't see his depth!"
"In addition, they have roughly thirty-plus attendants. Their cultivation is all quite decent; they should all have cultivation above the Fifth Layer of Postnatal Realm!"
"Master, these people are very much not simple. They should come from some major force!"
Tang An stood in front of Li Shangyuan and analyzed it in a clear, orderly manner.
Most of his analysis was not wrong, but there was one point