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

Peng Qing's pupils suddenly contracted.

Lu Cheng collapsed beside the bed, blood still gushing from the wound on his chest. The man who had just been shouting that he would overpower all the lowly people of Sanmu Village had twitched a few times and then fell silent.

The woman inside huddled in a corner, her hands tightly covering her mouth, her makeup ruined by tears, her face as white as a paper doll.

Peng Qing looked at Lu Cheng's corpse, his thin lips trembling. No matter how bad his junior brother was, he was still a member of Shengcang Martial Arts School.

What's worse is that the newcomers killed too quickly, too steadily, and without any regard for the rules of the martial arts world.

Do not ask about names, do not make harsh statements, and leave no room for compromise.

This isn't a night raid; this is a special operation to deal with them.

"You're asking for it!"

Peng Qing roared, his blood rushing to his head, veins bulging in his neck, and his aura rising dramatically.

He lowered his long sword, pushed off with his feet, and lunged forward.

The first strike cleaved the head, the second the shoulder, and the third swept across the waist and abdomen.

The next four cuts were delivered very quickly, each aimed at vital points such as the neck, chest, and back of the legs, without any fancy moves.

Yi Yang caught it with his sword.

when!

A spark flew from between the two blades, landing beside the overturned wine cup, its light dazzling.

Yi Yang's wrist suddenly sank.

Yi Yang's combined strength of qi and blood overwhelmed Peng Qing's, but Peng Qing had practiced swordsmanship for many years, and his sword techniques were as familiar as eating and drinking. Every strike was not beautiful, but very practical, specifically targeting the gaps in Yi Yang's strength when his old strength had just been exhausted and his new strength had not yet arisen.

Yi Yang took two steps back, his heel kicking the overturned stool.

Peng Qing's eyes were red.

"So what if you're at the Body Refinement Realm?"

Before he could finish speaking, the blade had already sliced ​​diagonally across Yi Yang's wrist.

Yi Yang blocked the attack with his machete, his arm going numb from the impact.

I've only been learning the Nine Peaks Saber technique for a few days.

In terms of strength, Yiyang has the advantage.

In terms of refined techniques, Peng Qing, having spent over a decade wielding a knife, possessed far more experience than him. Peng Qing unleashed seven consecutive slashes, forcing Yi Yang to retreat to the table, where he then used a backhand strike to knock the wine pot off the table.

Drinks were spilled, dishes were overturned, and greasy soup splattered all over the floor tiles.

The woman finally couldn't hold back her tears and started crying.

"Don't kill me, don't kill me, I didn't see anything..."

Peng Qing roared, "Shut up!"

As soon as the shout fell, the candles inside the room were knocked over by the overturned wooden stool, and the flames licked at the curtains.

When fabric catches fire, it first curls up at the edges, and then it shoots upwards.

Thick smoke, carrying a burnt smell, spread out, making people's throats bitter.

Yi Yang lowered her eyelids.

We can't delay.

There are also a dozen or so apprentices in the side courtyard.

Individually, those people are insignificant, but once they are awakened, they will grab sticks and knives and surround the master, even killing him with a flurry of punches, let alone in the martial arts school's territory.

The old man had no interest in soloing dungeons.

The risk is too high; it's not worth it.

Peng Qing also smelled the smoke, and his expression became even more menacing.

"Trying to run away?"

"Too late!"

He flicked his blade and lunged forward.

Yi Yang did not retreat, but suddenly changed his course with the chopping block.

The fourth move of the Nine Peaks Saber: Strange Peak.

This move is the strangest.

The first half of the blade looked like it was about to cleave him in two, the force of the blow was so heavy that Peng Qing had to raise his own blade to parry.

But halfway through the cut, Yi Yang twisted his wrist and tightened his waist and abdomen, causing the woodcutter's knife to make a tricky arc from the top, sliding down along the back of Peng Qing's knife and heading straight for his right armpit.

Peng Qing's eyes widened suddenly; this was too cunning.

It blocks the top, but leaves the bottom empty; it protects the bottom, but leaks at the top.

His years of sword practice instinctively saved his life.

Before he could defend himself with the longsword, Peng Qing simply abandoned it and slapped the side of the woodcutter's knife with his right palm.

Snapped!

The palm bone clashed head-on with the force of the knife.

A sickening cracking sound came from Peng Qing's right arm.

His entire arm fell limply to his sides, his hand slumped and he couldn't even make a fist.

But Yi Yang's strike still had some residual power.

The combined force of Qi and blood was unleashed, and Peng Qing was struck in the chest by the back of the blade. He was sent flying backward, crashing through the window frame and then into the earthen wall in the courtyard.

boom!

Half of the earthen wall was knocked down.

Mud brick fragments flew everywhere.

Peng Qing fell into the dark alley outside the wall, spitting out a mouthful of dark blood. A piece of his chest collapsed, and at least two of his ribs were broken.

The fire inside the house intensified.

The curtains crackled and popped as they burned, and smoke curled outwards along the roof beams.

The woman screamed and scrambled to escape through the door.

Yi Yang ignored her.

A hostess, terrified tonight, whether she leaves alive is up to fate. She's not important.

The important thing is that Peng Qing heard about Yang Da's news and also saw him take action.

Although his face was covered, his figure, age, woodcutter's knife, and the name of Miki Village were still visible.

Too many loose threads.

Letting him escape will cause endless trouble.

Yi Yang drew his knife and scaled the collapsed wall.

The alley was very narrow, with high walls on both sides forming a ditch-like path. A few thin lines of moonlight shone down from above, the ground was slippery, and there were rotten vegetable leaves and sewage at the base of the walls.

Yi Yang's nose twitched.

The smell of blood.

After reaching the Body Refinement Realm, my night vision improved significantly.

Every few steps on the ground, there were dark red bloodstains.

Peng Qing dragged his broken right arm and staggered toward the end of the alley.

He fled in a very sorry state.

Just moments ago, he was high and mighty inside the house, constantly interrogating people and calling them lowly. Now, he's lost half a shoe, his hair is disheveled, he's leaning against the wall with his left hand, and his breathing is as rough as a broken bellows.

With each rise and fall of his chest, the broken bones rubbed against his flesh, causing him excruciating pain that made his vision blur.

But he dared not stop; to stop meant death.

Only one thought remained in his mind.

Get out alive.

Find Yang Da.

Tell Yang Da that old man Yi in Sanmu Village is problematic.

Old woodcutter, meat-refining realm, wood-chopping knife, Nine Peaks Knife Path.

These clues are enough.

As long as Yang Da comes back, the murderer won't be able to escape.

Hang in there.

Peng Qing gritted his teeth, tore off his belt, and haphazardly wrapped it around his right arm.

Blood was still seeping out, so he turned into a narrower alley next door, trying to shake off his pursuers by turning the corner.

The footsteps behind him were neither fast nor slow.

Peng Qing panicked more and more. His foot slipped on the wet and slippery stone slab, and his knee hit the ground, causing his face to scrunch up in pain.

He got up and continued to run. His left hand touched the corner of the alley, and he breathed a sigh of relief, but there was a dead wall in front of him.

The wall is not high.

He is usually unharmed and it is not difficult for him to flip over.

But now his right arm is useless, his sternum is broken, his blood and qi are scattered, and he even has difficulty standing.

Peng Qing leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

At the alley entrance, Yi Yang's figure appeared, his face covered by a black cloth and his gray clothes stained with blood.

The old wood-chopping knife hung at his side, the bloodstains on the blade darkened by the night wind.

A sliver of moonlight pierced the blade, its cold white light stark against the skin.

Peng Qing's Adam's apple bobbed: "Friend, don't kill me."

He changed his tune very quickly.

For those in the martial arts world, surviving is nothing to be ashamed of.

"Lu Cheng is dead, I can pretend I didn't see it."

"Shengcang Martial Arts School can also give you money. Do you need medicine? Do you need martial arts techniques? I have the connections."

As Yi Yang walked forward, Peng Qing became anxious, and blood foam oozed from the corner of his lips.

"Don't push me!"

"My master has an old friend in the county town. Yang Da will be back in five days. If you kill me, this matter can't be kept quiet!"

Yi Yang paused for a moment, and Peng Qing's eyes immediately lit up with a desire to survive.

"Yes, yes, Yang Da!"

"Yang Da is about to break through to the third level of Qi and Blood. If you let me go now, I can speak on your behalf. There's no need for us to fight to the death."

"You're at the Body Refinement Realm, and I'm a martial artist too. We're not some peasants, so why waste our time on a few village women..."

Before he could finish speaking, Yi Yang raised his sword.

Peng Qing's pupils constricted, and he hurled a broken brick at Yi Yang's face with his left hand.

Yi Yang turned his head to avoid it, and the woodcutter's knife fell.

The knife cut into Peng Qing's chest from beside his collarbone.

Peng Qing leaned against the wall, his body slid down, and blood gushed from his clothes.

Yi Yang squatted down and searched Peng Qing. Peng Qing had twenty-six taels of loose silver, two silver notes, ten taels each, a bronze plaque from Shengcang Martial Arts School, and several packets of hemostatic powder.

Yi Yang carefully put away the silver and medicine and stuffed them into his bosom.

He glanced at the bronze plaque, then casually tossed it into the sewage ditch by the alley.

Bringing this thing back will bring bad luck.

After doing all this, Yi Yang returned to the back wall of Shengcang Martial Arts School.

The fire had already started inside the house, and panicked shouts came from the side courtyard.

"Fire!"

"Master! Master Peng!"

"Master Lu is inside!"

This mess is just right.

Yi Yang didn't make any further moves.

Lu Cheng is dead, Peng Qing is dead, and Shengcang Martial Arts School is going to be in a real mess tonight.

He left along the shadowy alley, circled two streets, and climbed out of town. The night wind blew against his face, carrying the dampness of the fields and the fishy smell of grass.

Back in Sanmu Village, Yiyang climbed over the wall from the backyard, first washing the wood-chopping knife next to the water vat, then wiping it with wood ash.

The blood-stained clothes were thrown into the stove, and the flames licked the fabric, but the bloody smell was quickly masked by the smoke and fire.

He boiled water again and washed himself twice.

There are several shallow cuts on my arm.

Peng Qing's slashes were quite ruthless, but his body, being at the Flesh Refining Realm, could withstand them. After his skin and flesh tightened, the bleeding stopped.

Yi Yang sat on a small stool in the kitchen, rubbing his hair and muttering to himself.

"With such a heavy burden of qi and blood, it's no longer enough to control the old man."