Elderly Martial Saint: Sixty Times the Cultivation Speed ​​at the Start

Yi Yang left the headquarters of the Sky Patrol Bureau and walked along the long street leading to the South City Prison.

The morning light shone on the bluestone pavement, and the air still carried the scent of last night's cooking. Most of the shops along the street were open compared to before. No matter what, life goes on.

There were more pedestrians on the road, but when they saw the official robes of the candidate chief steward he was wearing, they all made way for him.

They walked slowly, but the gates of the South City Prison were already in sight.

The two guards at the gate spotted Yi Yang from afar, and their backs immediately straightened. One of them jogged up to meet him, forcefully pushing open the heavy iron gate with both hands, the hinges creaking softly.

"Lord Yi!"

The guard's tone was filled with undisguised eagerness, a stark contrast to the difficult attitude he displayed when Yi Yang first arrived a few days ago.

Although they had changed their tune before, it was because they were intimidated by Yi Yang, not because they were truly sincere like this.

Seeing the two guards greet him, Yi Yang nodded and stepped over the threshold.

A dozen or so surviving prison guards stood on both sides of the passageway. Some had bandages wrapped around their necks, and some had ointments on their faces to stop the bleeding, but each of them stood ramrod straight.

The moment their eyes met, no one dared to look at Yi Yang for too long.

Awe, gratitude, and relief—a mix of emotions gave this usually dark and damp passageway a touch of solemnity for the first time.

They all understood that if they hadn't known that Yi Yang had stopped the prison riot last night, they might all have perished here.

Under these gazes, Yi Yang stopped halfway.

Ahead, a young jailer was helping another person slowly walk out of the side corridor.

The person being helped had an empty left arm, the sleeve was knotted, his face was as white as a sheet of paper, his lips were chapped, and his eyes were red.

It was the one-armed jailer whose bleeding had been stopped by Yi Yang's internal energy last night.

The two walked up to Yi Yang. The one-armed jailer broke free from his companion's hand, swayed twice, and knelt down on one knee.

The sound of knees hitting the stone slabs echoed muffledly in the passageway.

"My lord..." he began, his voice already hoarse, and he stopped mid-sentence, unable to speak.

He wanted to express his gratitude and repay the kindness, but the scene from last night was too profound.

He was bleeding profusely, half his life hanging by a thread, and his young companion's hands were shaking so badly he couldn't even tie the knot. In the darkness, he was filled with utter despair.

Then that hand appeared. Although it was dry, it emanated a warm power. It was the hand that saved him.

With Yi Yang's help, he survived.

The one-armed jailer sniffed and choked out, "Your Excellency, for saving my life... I will never forget your kindness..."

"Alright."

Yi Yang bent down, placed one hand on his uninjured shoulder, lifted him up slightly, and said:

"No need to kneel and worship. You should take care of your health before coming to work. If you get bumped or bruised again, I won't be able to stop you from doing it again."

Although Yi Yang's tone was calm and even, no different from usual, the one-armed jailer and everyone around him understood the meaning behind it.

The young prison guard who was helping him up quickly helped the one-armed prison guard up, and the two of them stepped aside, their faces covered in snot and tears.

Yi Yang straightened up and glanced around.

"Resume normal shifts for all positions. Those who are seriously injured, go back and rest. Those who are short-staffed, go to the Sky Patrol Division and find Deputy Chief Steward Liu to fill the gaps." His voice was not loud, but it drowned out all the noise in the corridor: "Get back to work. The prison can't be left unattended for even a day."

"yes!"

More than a dozen people responded in unison, their voices more than ten times louder than usual.

Yi Yang didn't linger any longer, and walked slowly through the crowd back to his duty room.

The room fell silent.

Yi Yang didn't sit down immediately. Instead, he stood by the window and peered out through the crack for a few moments. After confirming that there was nothing amiss, he turned around, took off his outer official robe, and draped it over the back of the chair.

He sat cross-legged on a futon, with his palms covering his knees.

The wisp of pure energy in the dantian responded and moved.

He began to practice the "Horizontal Martial Arts Body Refinement Technique".

The method of this hard skill is different from what he has practiced before. The internal energy does not circulate through the meridians, but is deliberately guided to the skin and between the muscles and bones, like a thin layer of molten iron being cast into every inch of the body.

The process is uncomfortable; it's like tightening the originally loose texture bit by bit.

But with the blessing of destiny, this discomfort came and went quickly. Each time the energy circulation route was completed, the numbers on the panel jumped up.

Sixty times.

What cultivation genius? What young talent? They all pale in comparison to these four words.

Yi Yang closed his eyes, and his lips twitched slightly.

During breaks in his cultivation, his mind was not idle.

Qi Shujian.

The letter of recommendation was pressed against his chest; he could feel the paper even through his clothes.

A powerful expert at the third level of internal energy personally wrote a letter recommending an old man who appeared to be only at the sixth level of qi and blood to participate in the deputy director assessment in Suining Prefecture?

This reward was extremely precious and unusual, but did Yi Yang sense any malice from the other party?

Instead, he could tell from Qi Shujian's tone that the other party appreciated him.

Yi Yang mentally went over every word of their conversation. Qi Shujian hadn't revealed his inner energy realm trump card, but his gaze and composure clearly indicated that he knew everything.

I know, but I won't say it.

They won't say it outright, but they'll still give you benefits.

Why?

Yi Yang couldn't figure it out. He always felt that Qi Shujian saw something in him, but he couldn't guess what it was.

Forget it, if I can't figure it out, I won't think about it anymore.

The most important thing right now is to seize the time to cultivate. Sui Ning Prefecture is a dangerous place, and the Inner Qi Realm may just be the threshold. My current resources are far from enough.

Yi Yang exhaled a breath of stale air and resumed circulating his cultivation technique.

In the duty room, only the faintest breathing echoed.

……

Meanwhile, news from the Sky Patrol Headquarters was spreading like wildfire.

Before noon, half of Yunlin County knew about it.

Yi Yang was personally summoned by Director Qi and had a private conversation that lasted nearly half an hour.

The news spread faster than the fire last night.

Immediately afterwards, a second message followed.

"Have you heard? There was a riot at the South City prison last night. That Yi Yang single-handedly held off the hardened criminals and personally killed Feng Haiyuan, the Grand Deacon of the Nine Evil Cult!"

"Feng Haiyuan? Isn't that a formidable character at the sixth level of Qi and Blood?"

"Yes, the one who couldn't be pried open by the four forces taking turns interrogating him was killed on the spot by Yi Yang!"

As soon as this news came out, the discussions in teahouses and taverns changed instantly.

People began to try to recall who Yi Yang was, but no one had any recollection of him.

Only a few people who had attended the quarterly assessment of the Sky Survey Office remembered this elderly figure.

However, the opponent's ranking was not high at the time, only thirteenth, so it didn't attract much attention.

But looking back now?

Oh.

They were just hiding their true abilities.

"Feng Haiyuan is at the mid-stage of the sixth level of Qi and Blood. If Yi Yang can kill him head-on, then he must be at least at the mid-stage of the sixth level or higher." A seasoned martial artist analyzed on his fingers at the tea stall. "During the quarterly exam, he stopped after reaching thirteenth place. He chose that position himself; it wasn't that he couldn't climb higher."

"No wonder Director Qi met with him personally." Someone nearby chimed in, "If it were me, I would also summon such a hidden master to see what he's really made of."

The news continues to gain traction.

In the afternoon, the entrance to the South City Prison became lively.

The first group consisted of managers from several mid-sized merchants in Yunwen Town, dressed in respectable silk robes, carrying gift boxes and fine wine, smiling and saying it was to "comfort Manager Yi for his hard work last night."

The second group consisted of colleagues from the Sky Patrol Bureau, the lowest level of whom were all candidates for chief supervisor. They all sent their trusted confidants, hoping to get on board Yi Yang's big ship.

The third group was even more impressive—managers from a second-rate family in the city, carrying silver notes and pills, their faces beaming with smiles.

These people were calculating their moves: Qi Shujian's sword strike that beheaded Zhang Qiheng last night was too shocking. Two of the three great families were wiped out overnight, and the sky over Yunlin County had completely changed. The Sky Patrol Division was the new sky.

The three directors are too high and mighty to reach? No problem.

The fourth person personally summoned by the director—isn't that a ready-made entry point?

Inside the duty room, Yi Yang's internal energy spread out within a three-zhang radius, and he could sense the breathing, footsteps, and hushed flattering voices of the people outside the door.

He pursed his lips slightly, surprised that the news had leaked out so quickly.

"The person who came with me said that Steward Yi is busy with official business and we should talk another day," he called out towards the door.

The jailer standing outside quickly ran off to deliver the message.

As for gifts and name cards?

We will accept them without fail.

Anyway, he's leaving soon, and he can't take these things with him to Suining Mansion, but he can exchange them for silver.

As evening approached, Yi Yang finished his practice, got up, changed his clothes, and left the prison.

Outside the courtyard gate, Huang Yushu leaned against the wall and waited.

The young man, dressed in a patrol uniform, stood up much straighter than before. When he saw Yi Yang come out, he hurriedly went to greet him, his eyes shining like lanterns.

"Lord Yi!"

Huang Yu lowered his voice and spoke three times faster: "Qianyang Tower's operations are normal today. After Ye Yang left, all departments are running smoothly, and the warehouse balances are accurate. Also—"

He paused, his lips moved slightly, but he couldn't help but say, "I've heard about what happened last night."

Yi Yang looked at him, not knowing what he meant.

Huang Yushu scratched the back of his head and managed to stammer, "Sir, you... are truly amazing."

Hearing this praise, Yi Yang smiled, raised his hand and patted him on the shoulder twice, saying:

"Keep a good eye on Qianyang Tower for me. I might be transferred soon, and I won't treat you badly then."

Upon hearing this, Huang Yushu's expression changed from excitement to confusion, and then from confusion to astonishment.

Transfer?

What kind of transfer?

Where should it be transferred to?

A host of questions welled up inside him, but Yi Yang had already strode into the depths of the alley, leaving him with a composed silhouette.

Huang Yushu stood there, his hand still hanging in mid-air, his mouth opening and closing twice.

After a long while, he finally reacted, took two steps, and called out, "Sir! When are you leaving? I—"

You'll know when the time comes.

Yi Yang's voice drifted over from the corner of the alley, his tone flat and indifferent, just like always.

Huang Yushu clenched his fists and stood at the alley entrance as dusk deepened, filled with anticipation for Yi Yang's promise not to mistreat him.

……

At the same time.

Shunan Inn, east of Yunlin County.

In the room by the window on the second floor, Izuru sat on a bench with his hands on his knees, lost in thought.

He has lost weight.

In just over half a month, her once round cheeks sagged, her cheekbones became prominent, her eye sockets sunken, and the dark circles under her eyes were so thick they looked like ink.

Hearing the commotion of people on the street discussing the massive purge of the previous night from outside the window, Yi Xun didn't hear a word they said.

His gaze fell on the half-closed door to the inner room.

Behind the door was Yi Zhanzhi.

At seventeen, with Qi and Blood at the third level, he is the last disciple of Mu Fenghai, the master of Lei Yun Martial Arts School, and the only hope for the Yi family to turn their lives around.

Now lying in bed, his lower body covered with a thin blanket, his face ashen and lifeless.

Yi Xun remembered what Lei Yun Martial Arts School had said: they would definitely treat Yi Zhanzhi.

That's indeed the case; the other party has already spent nearly a thousand taels on his grandson.

However, the doctor who came said that his bones and tendons were too shattered, and unless a master of the Inner Qi Realm used a precious elixir to nurture him, there would be no possibility of him ever practicing martial arts again.

Baodan.

A master of the Inner Qi Realm.

These two things are practically impossible for the Iraqi patrol.

He gripped the fabric on his knees, his knuckles clenched, and the only thought running through his mind was—it's all over, it's all over.

The genius grandson, whom they had staked their entire fortune on, was ruined. Although the Zhang family received their revenge, what good was it?

Their family's future collapsed; instead of making any further progress, they fell back to rock bottom.

Without the support of martial artists, their shops and businesses in Cloud Pattern Town wouldn't last long.

Yi Xun lowered his head, something swirling in his cloudy old eyes.

Outside the window, someone passing by remarked, "...Yi Yang...Director Qi personally summoned him...Sixth level of Qi and Blood..."

Yiyang.

The moment those two names entered his ears, Yi Xun's shoulders jerked.

I looked out the window in disbelief.

Big brother... how could this be...?