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

Xu Min's steps were not heavy, but with each step, the surrounding diners felt as if he were stepping on their hearts.

When Xu Min walked up to the table with the bushy beard, he didn't say anything, but just looked down at the bones scattered on the ground.

Lift your right foot.

Fall.

A gentle crushing motion.

The footsteps didn't touch the chicken bones on the ground, but the chicken bones still turned into dust in an instant, leaving not even a trace.

A shallow footprint was pressed into the bluestone pavement by the powerful internal energy.

Upon seeing this commotion, the bearded leader sobered up somewhat.

He looked up and saw a middle-aged man in black armor standing in front of him, looking down at him.

The other person's eyes were expressionless, but just looking at you was enough to make the hairs on your body stand on end.

Upon seeing Xu Min's attire, the man with the thick beard's Adam's apple bobbed, and his greasy lips trembled as if he wanted to say something.

The inner energy enveloped the four people around the table.

The wine on the table rippled, sweat beaded on the bearded man's forehead, and the other three were no longer drunk.

The young man next to him was no more than twenty years old, and his cheeks were flushed from drinking.

Seeing Xu Min pressing down on his elder brother, he was filled with rage and said defiantly, "We're not bothering you."

The bearded man turned and glared at him, wishing he could shove that mouth into a wine jar.

"Shut up!"

The bearded man raised his hand and pressed down on his young companion, hurriedly apologizing to Xu Min.

The young man didn't finish his sentence.

Xu Min placed his right hand on the hilt of the knife.

He gripped the hilt with his index finger and twisted it with his knuckle.

"despair."

Just that one sound.

The air in the entire corner changed.

A surge of inner energy cultivation descended, not directed at anyone in particular, but merely released in wisp.

But for these four men at the Qi and Blood Realm, it was almost like having someone grab the back of their necks.

Unexpectedly, Xu Min was actually a Qi Refining Realm expert, and the young companion who wanted to continue speaking shut his mouth.

His face went from red to white, then from white to green, and beads of sweat dripped down his forehead one after another.

His two companions were in even worse shape; one of them couldn't even hold his chopsticks, which clattered as they fell onto the table.

"Xu Min".

Just then, a voice came from behind.

The voice was not loud, it could even be described as soft.

But the moment he heard the sound, Xu Min immediately released his hand from the hilt of the knife and turned to face Yi Yang.

Yi Yang stood two steps away, holding the rough porcelain teacup that the shopkeeper had just handed him. He blew on the tea leaves floating in the bowl, took a sip, and hissed as it was scalding hot.

"We've been traveling all day, let's eat first."

Seeing that Yi Yang had spoken, Xu Min clasped his hands in a fist salute: "Yes."

He turned around and sat back down at the table.

The four men at the table with the bushy beard looked like they'd been pulled from the water; they were soaking wet. Four pairs of eyes were fixed on the table, their heads bowed, not daring to lift, not even daring to breathe.

The quick-tongued young man moved his lips, as if he wanted to apologize, but was afraid that making a sound would cause even more trouble, so he finally buried his head in the bowl.

Yi Yang didn't look at them again.

He walked to the table against the wall and sat down. Behind him was a solid rammed earth wall. A tiger-shaped ornament stood upright on the side of the chair, with the hilt of a knife facing upwards, within easy reach.

The hot dishes were served quickly.

Four meat dishes, two vegetable dishes, a pot of soup, and a plate of sliced ​​beef. The portions weren't large, but for a roadside inn like this, it was quite generous. The innkeeper himself brought it over, his hands trembling so much that the bowls and chopsticks rattled.

Yi Yang eats slowly, chewing each bite of food more than ten times before swallowing, just like his habit of the past sixty years.

The guards sat at two separate tables, ate quickly, and emptied their bowls and chopsticks in no time before sitting up straight.

All twelve people were sitting facing Yi Yang's direction; it wasn't intentional, it was instinctive.

The diners in the lobby were secretly observing.

A group of elite soldiers in black armor surrounded a strange old man with jet-black hair but an aged face. The man was dressed in gray close-fitting clothes, with an official badge at his waist, and a long, rectangular object wrapped in coarse linen on his back that looked like a heavy weapon.

Who is this old man?

Two old bodyguards were sitting at the table near the door.

The short, stout man with graying beard and hair had been in this line of work for at least thirty years. His gaze swept over the black armor of the Zhenfu Guard, and he nudged his companion with his elbow.

His lips moved, and he whispered almost inaudibly:

"Zhenfu Guard".

Upon hearing this, his companion froze in mid-air, holding the wine bowl.

The two men exchanged a glance. The short, stout old man downed the wine in his bowl in one gulp, put his chopsticks on the table, and beckoned to the innkeeper to settle the bill.

The silver was slapped on the counter, and the two got up and walked out.

As he passed by Yi Yang, the short, stout old man slowed his pace to the lightest and slowest, even holding his breath, his eyes fixed on the ground, not daring to turn his head even once.

As he stepped out of the lobby, a cold wind rushed into his collar, and the short, stout old man finally exhaled.

His companion leaned closer, his throat dry: "That was—"

"People from the prefectural city."

The short, stout old man strode toward the stable, saying as he went, "That armor is the standard uniform of the Zhenfu Guard; you can't mistake it. There's only that one unit in the entire Suining Prefecture, and all of them are the most elite martial arts force below the True Qi Realm."

"The old man they were escorting..."

"Don't ask. None of the guards who clear the way for others are nobody. Hurry up and get away."

Two horses were led out, and the old镖师 (bodyguard/escort) mounted them and disappeared into the night without looking back.

After the meal, a servant boy led the way with a lantern.

The courtyard housed three sections, and Yi Yang lived in the innermost room, the one with the character "天" (tian).

Xu Min arranged for four people to guard both ends of the corridor, while the rest of the people lived in the left and right wing rooms, two people per room, taking turns on night duty.

Yi Yang entered the house.

The room was small, with a bed, a table, a chair, and a window that opened onto the inner courtyard.

He bolted the door, Hu Xiao leaned against the headboard, and took off his outer robe and draped it over the back of the chair.

The black iron armor clung to his body; he hadn't taken it off.

When traveling, it's an old rule to always have your armor with you.

He walked to the window and spread his spiritual energy.

The distribution of energy within a hundred-zhang radius formed a diagram in his mind.

There were still seven tables of guests left in the lobby, and two stable boys in the backyard were dozing off. There were eleven guests on the second floor, with their Qi and Blood levels ranging from level one to level three, none of whom were of any worth looking at.

Xu Min's breathing was steady yet alert in the corridor.

No exception.

Yi Yang withdrew his mental energy and sat cross-legged on the bed.

The golden-haired ape in Yi Yang's mind shook its fur and darted from a corner of his sea of ​​consciousness to the very center, its eyes shining brightly, ready to get to work.

Yi Yang closed his eyes.

The patterns on that piece of animal skin reappeared in my mind.

The general principles of the Four Symbols and Six Harmonies Blade unfolded in his spiritual world: the Azure Dragon, Vermilion Bird, White Tiger, and Black Tortoise, the four streams of energy flowing like four rivers, converged at his dantian.

He began to deduce the first move.

The Azure Dragon belongs to spring, and its power is long and enduring.

Qi rises from the dantian, ascends along the Du meridian, passes the Jianjing point, travels through the three Yang meridians of the hand, and flows into the arm.

Each node must be precisely aligned; if it is even slightly off, the remaining seventy-one nodes will all be misaligned.

Yi Yang's consciousness sank into the cultivation technique.

Outside the window, the moon rose from behind the hills, its clear light spilling onto the roof of the inn.

In the corridor, the Zhenfu Guards changed shifts. The two men on night duty leaned against a pillar, staring blankly at the bare old willow tree in the courtyard.

The entire inn fell silent.

Meanwhile, in Yi Yang's room, the numbers on the panel were gradually increasing.