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

Jin Tietang.

The most impressive weapons shop on East Street in Suining Prefecture was a three-story wooden building that soared into the clouds, with a storefront wide enough to park three carriages side by side.

Two iron halberds, each as tall as a person, stood crossed at the entrance, their tips gleaming with a chilling white light in the morning sun. This mere sight kept ordinary people at bay.

Yi Yang thought to himself, "This is truly a prefectural city. Even the weapons shop is so big." He stepped up the stairs and pushed open the door to enter.

Upon entering the room, one sees the walls lined with weapons arranged in a very neat and orderly fashion.

From three-foot-long swords to twelve-foot-long spears, from hidden darts to iron-backed longbows, these items hung on both walls, exuding the unique coldness of metal mixed with the faint fragrance of pine oil after polishing.

At this moment, three or five martial artists were selecting weapons in the shop. Judging from their qi fluctuations, they were all at the fourth or fifth level of cultivation, the kind that were commonplace in the prefectural city.

A waiter jogged over, looked Yi Yang up and down, his attitude warm but clearly somewhat perfunctory.

"Sir, what would you like to look at? This whole floor has regular merchandise, and the prices are fair—"

Yi Yang didn't care about the shopkeeper's attitude and said, "I want a long knife weighing over seventy pounds."

Upon hearing this, the waiter suddenly stopped twirling the towel in his hand and said in shock:

"How much did you say?"

"Seventy jin (35 kg)."

The waiter's expression changed from perfunctory to blank, and then from blank to a subtle expression that seemed to say, "This old man is probably senile."

He rubbed his hands together and said with a forced smile, "Old sir, a regular horizontal sword weighs only seven or eight jin, and a heavy sword is only fifteen to twenty jin. How thick and wide would a seventy-jin sword have to be? The blade would be almost as thick as a door panel, you couldn't even swing it..."

"Why don't you take a look here? We have several heavy knives weighing 30 to 40 pounds each, with excellent value for money—"

"Seventy jin (35 kg)."

Yi Yang repeated his request, speaking in a calm tone.

The waiter opened his mouth, wanting to offer advice but not daring to say anything more. Just as he was wondering if Yi Yang had come to cause trouble, the curtain in the inner room was lifted from the inside.

The man who came out was a burly man in his fifties.

He was a burly man with calloused hands and indelible rust between his fingers.

But from the light and steady steps he took and the deep and restrained breathing he exuded, it was clear that he was a master.

Yi Yang sensed that the opponent's strength was at the Inner Qi Realm.

The person who came was the owner of this shop, Tie Chongshan.

As soon as Tie Chongshan came out of the backyard, he glanced at Yi Yang. He was completely different from the Qi and Blood Realm guy and could tell at a glance that Yi Yang was no ordinary person.

The old man stood there, his center of gravity as stable as if he were rooted to the ground.

Breathing long and even, shoulders and back relaxed yet not loose – this is the posture of someone who has thoroughly trained their muscles and bones.

"Xiao Chen, you go ahead with your work."

Tie Chongshan waved his hand, walked up to Yi Yang, and said with a smile, "Old sir, I just heard that you wanted a seventy-pound longsword?"

"Yes, you can't make it here?"

"It's not that we can't make it, but that this kind of knife can't be forged from pig iron."

Tie Chongshan shook his head and gestured with his calloused hand to explain:

"Seventy pounds of pig iron, the blade would have to be four fingers wide and half an inch thick. Even if the length were compressed to three and a half feet, it wouldn't be able to withstand that size. Even if you're strong enough, you can't cut people with something this thick. You can only swing it like an iron rod."

Hearing this, Yi Yang nodded and smiled, "That's why I came to find an expert. Judging from your tone, there must be a solution, right?"

Upon hearing this, Tie Chongshan chuckled, turned around, crawled behind the counter, rummaged around for a while, and pulled out an iron box.

He opened the box, which was lined with cotton wool, and on top of that lay a small piece of metal.

The metal was entirely black, with a faint, dark red sheen.

Do you recognize this?

Tie Chongshan picked up the metal and placed it on the table. He flicked it with his knuckles, producing a clear and pleasant buzzing sound, and then said...

After examining it carefully, Yi Yang shook his head and said, "I realize I'm not very knowledgeable about this."

"This is black fire iron."

Tie Chongshan said with a hint of pride in his voice, "It comes from the depths of a volcano in southern Xinjiang. Its density is four times that of ordinary pig iron, and its volume is only a quarter of the same weight. Its hardness and toughness completely surpass those of refined steel. Even if you pour internal energy into it, it won't break or crack."

He pointed to the palm-sized piece of black fire iron with his index finger and continued to explain:

"I'll use this to forge you a 70-pound longsword. The finished size won't be much different from a regular heavy sword, with a blade length of 3 feet 2.3 inches and a blade width of 1.5 inches."

"This meets your requirements. It's heavy enough, feels solid, and doesn't hinder your movements."

After hearing the shopkeeper's explanation, Yi Yang became very curious and reached out to touch the piece of black fire iron.

This thing felt cool to the touch, and its surface was unusually smooth. When you pressed it with your fingertips, you could feel a deep, dense texture.

"Good stuff," Yi Yang thought to himself before asking:

"How much?"

Seeing that a big customer had arrived, Tie Chongshan smiled broadly and held up a thick finger, saying, "Including labor and materials, it'll be 1,500 taels."

Yi Yang's eyebrows twitched.

Before he could even speak, Tie Chongshan had already calculated the costs: "Black fire iron costs twelve taels of silver per pound. A seventy-pound blade, plus forging losses, would require at least ninety pounds of raw material. The material cost alone is one thousand and eighty taels."

"The remaining four hundred and twenty is the labor cost for forging these irons myself, sir. I've been forging iron for forty years; these hands are worth that price."

His words were neither humble nor arrogant, but carried the confidence of a craftsman.

One thousand five hundred taels.

Yi Yang did some mental calculations.

Half a year ago, he was chopping firewood in Sanmu Village. All the wealth he had accumulated in his life amounted to less than ten taels of copper coins. Now, the money from one knife is enough for the entire village of Sanmu to eat and drink for three years.

Indeed, it is said that the poor are scholars and the rich are warriors.

Yi Yang now understands these four words more deeply than anyone else.

"make a deal."

Yi Yang didn't haggle. He took out fifteen hundred-tael silver notes from his sleeve and handed them over.

When Tie Chongshan took the silver note, a glint flashed in his eyes, and then he smiled.

Who wouldn't like a customer who is generous and doesn't fuss?

He immediately fetched paper and pen and inquired in detail about the user's preferences: What should the blade's curvature be? Should the blade be single-sided or double-sided? Should the center of gravity be forward or centered? How long should the handle be?

Yi Yang explained the power generation habits of the Nine Peaks Blade Master in the Perfect Realm one by one: the blade is slightly curved, the single-sided edge is thicker at the front and thinner at the back, and the center of gravity is shifted forward by two inches, which is conducive to accelerating when slashing.

The handle is 1.2 feet long and can be used with either one or both hands.

Tie Chongshan listened more and more attentively, and eventually he simply squatted down on the ground and started sketching with a charcoal pencil.

"The old gentleman is an expert with knives."

He looked up, grinned, and said, "It should be finished in about half a month, and I guarantee you'll be satisfied."

Just as he was about to see the guest off, Yi Yang suddenly stopped.

His gaze was drawn to something hanging on the wall at the far end of the shop.

That was a suit of armor.

No, calling it armor is too rough; to put it more directly, it's a close-fitting soft armor.

It is as black as ink, with extremely fine, overlapping scale patterns on its surface.

When the firelight shone on it, a faint blue light flowed between the scales, like the occasional ripples on a lake in the dead of night.

Moreover, the armor is ridiculously thin; when folded up, the entire piece is only the thickness of one or two layers of cloth.

Amazed, Yi Yang unconsciously walked over and gently stroked the nail with her fingertip.

The armor feels cool, slippery, and hard to the touch.

It looked like a thin layer, but Yi Yang's fingernail pressed down and it didn't budge.

When Tie Chongshan saw Yi Yang drawn to the armor, his eyes lit up. He rushed over in three strides, slapped the wall next to the soft armor, and exclaimed:

"Sir, you have a good eye! I just hung this treasure up this morning; it was barely warm up when it hit the wall!"

He took the soft nail polish off the wall, spread it out on the table, patted the nail surface, and introduced it with barely suppressed pride:

"Black Xuan Iron, an even rarer and better material than Black Fire Iron."

"It took me two whole years to collect raw materials. I used seventy-two quenching hammering processes to draw the black iron into wires thinner than a hair, and then weave them into scales to forge the armor. It took me a total of eight months to complete this one piece."

Tie Chongshan held up three fingers and said:

"Even if someone with the third level of internal energy attacks at full strength, wearing this thing and taking the hit head-on, at most their internal organs will be injured, but their armor will never be broken."

Upon hearing this, Yi Yang's pupils contracted.

Three levels of internal energy?

In Yunlin County, Qi Shujian was at the third level of internal energy, which was the level of a county lord.

"What if we encounter someone even more powerful?"

Yi Yang sensed from the shopkeeper's tone that the armor's power was more than that, and continued to ask.

Hearing this, Tie Chongshan chuckled and rubbed his hands together, saying, "I can hold out for the first one or two moves, but I can't guarantee I can last any longer."

"But that kind of person... sir, there are no more than twenty people in the entire Suining Prefecture with that kind of strength. The probability of you encountering one is lower than being struck by lightning."

Yi Yang didn't reply, his palm slowly gliding across the nail surface.

It can actually withstand one or two moves from a master with internal energy. Wearing this thing is like having an extra life.

He recalled the feeling of Jingyuan's palm strike on his back in the withered forest; three ribs were broken, and the taste of blood in his mouth still sent chills down his spine. If only he had been wearing this armor back then…

Yi Yang decided to acquire this treasure, knowing that such an item would be easy to sell. He directly asked the price:

"How much silver?"

Seeing that Yi Yang was really going to pay, Tie Chongshan raised a hand, spread all five fingers, and said an exorbitant demand: "Fifteen thousand taels of silver."

Upon hearing this, Yi Yangmianpi twitched and didn't continue bidding: "..."

Fifteen thousand taels.

Adding the knife we ​​just ordered, that brings the total to 16,500.

All the silver notes in his sleeve added up to just over ten thousand.

Today, even stripping himself bare isn't enough; he feels the boss wants to stab him in the back with this armor.

Yi Yang stared at the soft armor for three breaths, his fingers still resting on the surface of the armor.

Then he spoke: "Boss Tie, I have already spent 1,500 taels of silver at your shop today."

Tie Chongshan nodded in agreement, confirming that Yiyang was indeed their first major client of the day.

"This armor was only put on display this morning, and no one has asked about the price yet, right?"

Tie Chongshan nodded again, vaguely sensing something.

"I'm sixty years old this year, and it's not easy for me to save up some money."

Yi Yang sighed, slowed his speech by a third, and immediately offered a low price: "Fifteen thousand taels? I can't afford that. Six thousand taels, boss? That's all I have."

Tie Chongshan's smile froze for a moment: "Old sir, this price—"

"The Iron Boss".

Yi Yang patted his nails and said in a low but very calm voice:

"This armor looks good hanging on the wall, and it certainly won't be hard to sell, but there are only a handful of martial artists in the entire Suining Prefecture who can afford 15,000 pieces of close-fitting soft armor. By the time they come knocking on our door, several months will have already passed."

Tie Chongshan's lips moved as if he wanted to refute, but Yi Yang hadn't finished speaking.

"I bought a knife and armor today. From now on, when you're working in this city, your colleagues will need weapons and armor, so I'll bring these to you."

"Six thousand taels to make friends, and you should hurry up and recoup your losses. Wouldn't the business you do later be better than this one?"

Tie Chongshan's brows furrowed and relaxed repeatedly; he had indeed spent a great deal of money recently acquiring this precious armor.

In the time it takes to drink a whole cup of tea, his expression changed seven or eight times, and finally, he gritted his teeth and said:

"Sold for eight thousand taels."

Yi Yang readily agreed. Finally, Tie Chongshan slapped Yi Yang on the shoulder and said, "Old sir, you really know how to bargain... You've broken my bones after two years of hard work."

"Consider it making friends with you."

Yi Yang smiled, decisively took out eighty silver notes, handed them over, and said, "Alright! From today onwards, I'm friends with Shopkeeper Tie."

The moment he received the silver note, Tie Chongshan's face contorted with a strange mix of pain and admiration, and in the end, he could only shake his head and smile bitterly.

After paying, Yi Yang immediately put on the soft armor.

The feel after being put on was even better than I expected—light, thin, and fit snugly, giving a cool sensation like being wrapped in ice silk against the skin.

He was covered with a gray cloth garment, so you couldn't see the armor underneath at all. It was just a thin layer, no different from wearing an undershirt.

As he walked out of the Jin Tie Tang gate, Yi Yang touched his sleeve.

The remaining silver notes added up to only four or five hundred taels.

I spent 9,500 yuan in one go today.

From being incredibly wealthy, he was reduced to a level where he could barely afford to eat.

pain.

It hurts.

But touching the thin layer of black iron scales on his chest, he felt it was worth it.

A knife is for killing, armor is for protecting oneself.

With these two things by his side, plus his cultivation level of the second level of internal energy and a body full of martial arts techniques, his ability to survive in Suining Prefecture was further enhanced.

Yi Yang walked briskly into the crowd on the main street, heading towards her residence.

He had already started planning his next steps: spend half a month mastering the first level of the "Hidden Breath Formless Technique" before officially joining the company.

The road ahead is long.

But we took it one step at a time, steadily and surely.

……

At the same time.

The rear hall of Youquan Division.

Liu Qing walked in carrying a tea tray. After placing the teacups on a corner of the long sandalwood table, she did not leave immediately but stood there for a few moments, seemingly wanting to say something but then stopping herself.

Yan Wuyuan didn't even look up: "Speak."

"Miss, that old man has been here for two months."

Liu Qing finally couldn't help but ask, "He's been holed up in the courtyard the whole time, neither coming out nor reporting for duty. It seems his talent is quite average..."

Upon hearing this, Yan Wuyuan picked up her pen and began reviewing the case files, her pen tracing clean, crisp lines on the paper.

"The deadline is three months, and it's not up yet." She replied in a cool and indifferent voice, "If he cultivates too quickly, I won't give him any rewards. It's fine as long as he finishes in three months."

She paused, put down her pen, tapped her fingertips unconsciously twice on the desk, and then said:

"Wait a little longer."

Liu Qing opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing more, bowed, and left the palace.

After the door closed, the hall fell silent.