With a clank, the sword glow by the river suddenly disappeared, and a flying sword returned to its sheath.
Chen Changsheng and Zhexiu gazed across, and they saw that the one who attacked was a middle-aged cultivator. His eyes were clear and deep, and spirited. Beside him was a young daoist, who probably was his companion.
The hundreds of cultivators that had entered the Garden of Zhou were all in the Ethereal Opening realm. Most of them were the backbone force of various academies and sects, so there were not many people like him that could have their age determined with a glance. Chen Changsheng thought that if he was not a loose cultivator, then he would belong to a slightly small sect.