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

Two days later, in the evening, the second floor of the museum was dimly lit.

Yi Yang sat alone at his desk, a sword made by the Sky Patrol Bureau beside him, and a scroll of old cases involving nine heretical cults in his hand.

The case file details the horrific incidents perpetrated by the Nine Evil Cults.

Seven households, thirty-two people.

Human sacrifices were performed, the ash from the altar turned purplish-black, and the corpses were filthy.

Yi Yang glanced at two pages, then lowered his eyelids. He pressed his fingertips against the rolled-up edges, appearing to outsiders to be reading a document, but in reality, his internal energy cultivation method was slowly circulating within his body.

The lungs and internal organs open and close, the heart pulses, and the liver, spleen, and kidneys rise and fall in sync.

This feeling is strange. It's not the burning sensation in the muscles or the swelling and pain in the skin and bones, but rather the sensation of new spring water rising from the bottom of five old wells, little by little, with alternating coolness and warmth, flowing out along the gaps in the bones.

Last night, he used the last two Water Essence Pills and prepared a medicinal bath.

Standing under the old locust tree until dawn, when the progress of the Yi Wood Health Cultivation Exercise broke through the 12,000 mark, the entire skeleton was cracking.

Click click click.

Mi De stir-fried beans in an iron pot.

The spine, shoulder bones, ribs, and leg bones were all repeatedly crushed by the qi and blood, and the sour and rotten energy that had been hidden in the old bones for decades was forcibly forced out of the body.

At dawn, Yi Yang raised his hand and tapped his forearm.

笃.

It wasn't like the sound of flesh; rather, it was the deep, hard sound of metal clashing against stone.

Qi and blood are in four stages, reaching the realm of bone forging.

Ordinary swords and blades might not be able to cut through his old bones.

Small characters appeared before my eyes.

[Yi Wood Health Preservation Exercise, Level 4: (360/30000)]

[Nine Peaks Blade, Minor Mastery: (5700/6000)]

[Introduction to the Five Internal Organs Cultivation Method: (4100/5000)]

The Nine Peaks Blade technique is almost complete, and the Five Internal Organs Refining Method is also about to be mastered.

If it were a different young prodigy, he would probably be standing on the rooftop shouting, "My fate is in my own hands, not in the heavens!"

Yi Yang didn't answer; the old man simply closed the file, his brows furrowing even lower.

These past two days, something seems off outside the Sky Patrol Office; an unfamiliar aura has been lingering around several times.

Light footsteps, scattered stops, and frequent position changes.

It's like a stray dog ​​sniffing out a bone; it comes after smelling the aroma, but doesn't dare to rush over the courtyard wall.

People from the county government?

Or are they Tang Hao's dogs?

Yi Yang put the case file back on the shelf, blew out one of the lamps on the corner of the table, leaving only the smallest one on.

The lamplight shrank to the size of a soybean, illuminating his white hair and his deeply wrinkled old face.

The older you get, the less you should rush.

After the scattered values.

Yi Yang changed out of his official robes and put on an old blue shirt over them, with a knife still hanging at his waist.

The museum doors were locked.

Sun Hao was yawning while holding the booklet. When he saw him come out, he quickly stood up straight.

"My lord, have you returned?"

"Um."

Huang Yushu came down from the second floor, still holding the case notes in his hand: "Sir, there are two discrepancies in the timeline of the Nine Evil Sect case."

Yi Yang glanced at him.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Huang Yu nodded without asking any further questions.

Li Tong leaned against the door, lazily cupping his hands in greeting.

"Take care, sir."

Yi Yang passed by him, leaving behind the words, "Don't be late tomorrow." Li Tong's face twitched, and he muttered, "I haven't been late many times."

Yi Yang had already left home. Night had fallen over Yunwen Town, and the back street was quieter than usual.

The wonton stall had closed early; the wok hei (smoky aroma) had mostly dissipated, leaving only the pungent smell of burning damp firewood.

One and a half of the two lanterns by the roadside went out, and the remaining half swayed in the wind. Its yellow light crawled along the bluestone slab, but was swallowed by the darkness after only a few feet.

Yi Yang slowed his pace and focused his hearing.

After bone strengthening, my hearing improved by nearly double.

At the street corner, cloth boots brushed against the bluestone slabs.

Very lightly, once, half a beat later, then again.

At least two people, breathing heavily, were about five steps apart. Behind the eaves on the left, there was the sound of clothing brushing against the tiles.

Yi Yang lowered his eyelids and thought to himself:

coming.

He didn't turn around, nor did he speed up.

He seemed oblivious to the commotion around him, walking at a leisurely pace.

There was a narrow alley ahead, deep and dimly lit, with high walls on both sides.

Suitable for murder.

As Yi Yang walked, he turned into the building.

The middle section of the alley.

A stray cat darted out from under the eaves on the left, its tail sweeping across the broken tiles.

Splash!

Two broken tiles landed, their crisp sound echoing through the night alley.

Upon hearing this noise, Yi Yang's pupils contracted, but not because of the cat.

At the same moment the tile hit the ground, the airflow to the right rear was forcibly cut open.

A dark figure fell from the top of the wall.

With both palms, one above the other, cut towards the back of the neck and lumbar spine.

The county magistrate's capture expert.

Shrewd and ruthless, specializing in spinal joints.

If the normal three layers of qi and blood are pressed down, half of the body will go limp on the spot, and it will be impossible to be tough during interrogation.

Yi Yang's body reacted before his consciousness—the skeletal integration of the Bone Forging Realm allowed him to shift his center of gravity as quickly as a spinning axis.

He slumped forward, leaning half a foot forward, as the other person's palms brushed against the back of his neck, brushing away a few strands of white hair.

Yi Yang followed up with a powerful right elbow strike, the tip of his elbow carrying the hardness and force of the Bone Forging Realm, slamming hard into the black figure's chest. The elbow tip of the Bone Forging Realm was ridiculously hard.

boom.

The dark figure was struck in the chest and staggered back three steps, his boots scraping against the stone slabs with a screeching sound.

Yi Yang seized the opportunity to turn around.

The newcomer was wearing a black cloth, was thin and wiry, with high cheekbones that pushed the cloth up to reveal two ridges.

He held a goose-feather knife in his right hand, the hilt of which was polished to a shine; this was a knife commonly used by constables.

The skinny, muscular man didn't panic after being knocked back; instead, he made a gesture with his left hand.

Bring your index and middle fingers together and then separate them to the sides.

County government password.

Encirclement.

Yi Yang caught two more footsteps in his ear.

On the left, the steps are heavy, as if carrying heavy metal objects; on the right, the steps are light, as if walking close to the wall.

Soon, the two appeared.

The man on the left had a fleshy face, held an iron ruler, and had broad shoulders and a sturdy waist and legs.

The man on the right has a narrow face and small eyes, a short knife close to his arm, and walks as if he's sliding along a ditch.

The three people formed a triangular shape around the alley.

This effectively blocked Yiyang's escape route.

The lean, burly man held his goose-feathered sword across his chest, and a muffled voice came from behind his black turban: "Old man, be smart and hand over the stuff, or you might still have a whole corpse."

Yi Yang didn't reply. He glanced at the three men and quickly judged in his mind: "Judging from their steps alone, the skinny, muscular man has the strongest Qi and Blood, at least at the third level, and his swordsmanship has the orthodox foundation of a county government official. The broad-faced man has the middle stage of the second level of Qi and Blood. The narrow-faced man has just entered the second level, but his advantage lies in his speed. The three of them have trained together; they're not just random street fighters."

Killing is not difficult.

The challenge lies in both speed and cleanliness.

The night patrol team has a fixed route. If they are caught, even if they are in the right, the death of someone from the county government will still cause them a lot of trouble.

Yi Yang suddenly moved, advancing instead of retreating, and rushed straight towards the narrow face. The worst thing for a three-person encirclement is to be defeated one by one, so he deliberately chose the weakest link to tear open.

With a twitch of his narrow face, he hastily thrust out the short knife.

Yi Yang dodged to the side and slapped the wrist of the man holding the knife with his left palm.

Click.

His wrist was dislocated, and the dagger slipped from his hand. Before the narrow-faced man could even scream, Yi Yang's right foot had already kicked him in the abdomen.

He was kicked and flew out, crashing into the courtyard wall.

The brick dust fell in a soft patter.

His narrow face slid to the base of the wall, he bent over and coughed up blood, his wrist hanging limply, unable to get up again for a short time.

The encirclement has been broken.

Yi Yang used the momentum to retreat to the old tree at the alley entrance, leaning against the trunk to defend himself from behind.

The skinny, muscular man and the fleshy-faced man exchanged a glance, a look of horror flashing in their eyes—this move was too fast and too powerful; it was definitely not the kind of force that someone at the second level of Qi and Blood could unleash. But it was too late; the die was cast.

The skinny, muscular man lowered his voice.

"Attack together!"

The two stopped testing each other and launched their attack simultaneously. The burly man swept his iron ruler horizontally, employing a wide and sweeping style that forced Yi Yang to make it difficult to dodge; the lean, sturdy man followed closely behind with his goose-feather saber, the blade cutting in along the residual wind of the iron ruler, aiming straight for Yi Yang's ribs. The two, one in front and one behind, one heavy and one fast, coordinated almost flawlessly.

Narrow Face also struggled to his feet from the base of the wall, enduring the excruciating pain of his dislocated wrist, picked up the dagger with his left hand, and gritted his teeth to flank from the side.

The three men's attack was fiercer and more cautious than the first, leaving no room for survivors.

Seeing this, a cold glint appeared in Yi Yang's eyes, and he no longer intended to hide it.

Press the knife with your right hand, and brace the hilt with your thumb.

Clang.

The long sword was drawn.

Nine Peaks Blade.

The first peak, the thickest. The sword's power doesn't target the person, but rather the "momentum."

Yi Yang took a step forward, raised his knife from his right side, and pushed it out horizontally, like a mountain wall moving sideways.

The blade's aura was unpretentious, only conveying a heavy sense of oppression. The air was pushed aside by the blade's surface, producing a low hum.

Those with fleshy faces are the first to be affected.

The moment the iron ruler was raised horizontally, it pressed down on his arms, causing them to tremble, his tiger's mouth to split open, and blood to flow down his palms.

"What kind of force is that?"

He managed to squeeze out half a sentence, his eyes filled with disbelief, but the rest was forced back down by the force of the knife.

Yi Yang gave them no chance to catch their breath.

The second peak, a precipitous peak.

The horizontal push of the knife suddenly turned at an angle, bypassing the iron ruler defense line, and cut into the fleshy face and shoulder hollow.

puff.

The cloth ripped, the flesh split, and the bones shattered—three sounds blended into one.

Half of his shoulder was slashed open, blood gushing out. He let out a bloodcurdling scream. The iron ruler clattered to the ground, and he fell straight down like a felled tree stump. Blood spread across the stone slabs, steam rose, and the stench of blood instantly filled the entire alley.

The short sword that the narrow-faced man lunged at from the side was still halfway in when Yi Yang had already shifted his sword's momentum—the third peak, the sharp peak.

The blade tip is thrust forward sharply, without taking a large arc, aiming only at the vital point.

He had used this move many times. Yang Shuqing died from this very blow.

The blade pierced through the narrow face and ribs, avoiding the bone gaps, and went straight into the chest cavity.

He had a narrow face, bulging eyes, and a wide-open mouth, but couldn't utter a sound.

Yi Yang drew his sword, his narrow-faced body lunging forward two steps before collapsing to the ground, twitching a few times, and then falling still.

In less than three breaths, both of his men were dead.

Only the thin, wiry Lu Neng remained in the alley. His hand, gripping the goose-feather saber, trembled. Not from the cold, but from a fear that seeped into his very bones.

His eyes were fixed on Yi Yang, and finally, from that old figure, the way he held the knife, and that incredibly familiar wood-chopping style of exertion, he pieced together an unbelievable answer.

"You...you're at the Bone Forging Realm?" A voice squeezed out from behind the black cloth, "Fourth level of Qi and Blood?!"

A sixty-year-old woodcutter was actually at the fourth level of Qi and Blood, and the Bone Forging Realm.

Luneng thought of Yang Shuqing—the deputy chief constable who went up the mountain with Yi Jin Ba Gu Dan (a traditional Chinese medicine formula), Wu Zang Nei Lian Jin (another traditional Chinese medicine formula), and two trusted confidants, and never came down again.

Now he understands. He understands everything.

The truth is not about the Nine Evil Cults.

It was clearly the old man in front of me.

Luneng's rationality crumbled rapidly in fear. He fell to his knees in the pool of blood with a thud, his goose-feather knife slipped from his hand and he threw it aside, bracing himself with his hands and banging his forehead against the stone slab.

"Please spare my life, senior!"

His voice had changed, completely losing its previous sinister composure and fear as he said, "I was ordered by the county magistrate; I had no choice! If you spare my life, I will return and report to the magistrate that the person hasn't been found and the trail has gone cold, and I will never come back again!"

"The silver, the silver the county magistrate gave me, I kept it all at home! If you spare my life, I'll return it with all my possessions!"

The cries for mercy echoed through the deep alley, trapped by the high walls like a buzzing sound inside a jar.

Yi Yang stood three steps away, the tip of his knife pointing downwards, drops of blood falling onto the stone slab. He looked at Luneng kneeling on the ground, his face showing neither anger nor pity. Only the calm and silence of someone settling scores later.

But seeing Yi Yang's silence, Lu Neng knew there was no way the other party would let him off the hook. He hurriedly pretended to fumble for silver notes in his pocket, frantically saying, "Senior, here's all the money, I won't say another word—"

Halfway through his sentence, he pulled out not a silver note from deep inside his bosom, but a three-inch poisoned dagger.

The short blade is jet black with a dark green sheen on the edge. It is a disposable concealed weapon coated with "centipede saliva". It can paralyze a person's tendons and veins as soon as it cuts through the skin.

Luneng suddenly sprang up, his knees pushing off the ground, propelling him from a kneeling position, his short blade aimed straight for Yi Yang's lower abdomen—this was his final, desperate strike.

He was betting on the moment when Yi Yang couldn't react in time.

However, Yi Yang remained focused throughout.

His heightened senses, enhanced by the Bone Forging Realm, allowed him to detect the killing intent the moment Lu Neng's fingers touched the short blade, from the subtle rustling sound of the fabric rubbing together.

Yi Yang's left hand shot out like lightning, his five fingers gripping Lu Neng's wrist holding the blade, his iron-boned fingers clamping down like a vise.

Click.

The sound of wrist bones shattering was exceptionally clear in the night alley. Before Luneng could even scream, Yi Yang's right-hand knife had already arrived.

Nine Peaks Blade, the third peak—Sharp Peak, delivered cleanly and decisively.

The knife tip pierced through Luneng's jaw and went through the base of his skull.

laugh.

Luneng's scream froze in his throat, his eyes fixed, and he died even faster than his two subordinates.

Yi Yang released his grip, and Lu Neng's body slumped in a pool of blood. The poisoned short blade was still clutched in his deformed right hand, the venom seeping into the cracks in the stone, gleaming with a cold, eerie green light.