The old fisherman was advanced in years, the vicissitudes of life etched deep into his long cheeks.
The wrinkles beneath his eyelids, resembled the gorges within the Wuling Mountain.
Upon hearing Zhao Rong's words, the old fisherman's sparse white eyebrows drew together, wrinkles deepening and densifying, since he had his back to the others, Shang Sufeng, Zou Songqing, could not see.
Diancang Elder wore a puzzled expression.
He glanced at the old fisherman's back and then at the suddenly spirited Green Robed Sword God.
Doubts arose in his heart as his eagle-like eyes suddenly flashed with a sharp light!
He held his breath, concentrated, and sensed the old fisherman's aura, and observed his subtle movements.
However...
Shang Sufeng furrowed his brows, detecting nothing amiss.
The old man in the conical hat trembled visibly, his breath unsteady, his body tensed while pulling up the fish, clearly using all his strength.
