Ten years had passed, and their appearances and demeanors had all changed more or less.
Take Hong Yi, for example, who now wore a purple, luxurious brocade robe and a purple gold crown on his head, and had grown a beard at the corners of his lips.
Compared with ten years ago, the whole person seemed countless times more mature and composed.
Yet Lu Changsheng still had the appearance of a twenty-year-old.
His handsome and vibrant face still vaguely reflected the contours of ten years prior.
But his entire being appeared even more ethereal and graceful, refined beyond the mortal realm.
Beholding him was like seeing a graceful, flawless beauty, noble and unsullied, like an orchid or a jade tree in spring, bestowing upon others a sense of serenity and detachment.
If not for knowing Lu Changsheng's situation,
they would have believed him if he claimed to be a core disciple of an Immortal Sect or a descendant of a grand Cultivation family, given his temperament and looks.