"Guests?" Guying looked at where I was pointing at and frowned. "I thought I already taught the local beasts to not approach this place."
I doubted this was a beast, but stayed quiet. Soon, my thoughts were confirmed anyway.
The glimpse of color drew close and turned into two dots, which became cultivators dressed in colors of the Tsang clan. At the sight of them, Guying stood up, tensing.
I ordered the Union to come to my side and quietly prepared for a fight.
These cultivators descended from the sky in front of us. Although I expected them to be immediately hostile, their heavy looks instead held a lot of familiarity in them. Familiarity toward Guying, of course—toward me there was only wariness.
One cultivator was a younger man with a permanent frown etched on his features. The other was visibly old: there were wrinkles on his face, and if he was a mortal, he'd be in his forties.
