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

Ten days later, at dawn.

The blue bricks beside the well were chilled by the dew. Yi Yang finished the last round of the Yi Wood Longevity Stance, his arms hanging down, his qi and blood slowly returning to normal.

The sounds coming from the bone gaps were different from before.

It wasn't a crackling sound, but a deep, resonant clang like metal colliding, which vibrated twice beneath his skin before dissipating. The sound made him momentarily stunned.

Small characters appeared before my eyes.

[Yi Wood Health Preservation Exercise, Level 4: (29460/30000)]

Five hundred and forty.

It's just 540 points short.

Yi Yang clenched his fist, and the sound of metal scraping against each other was heard as his knuckles pressed together.

After days of continuous medicinal baths and stance training, the skeleton of the Bone Forging Realm cultivator was filled to the brim with qi and blood. Every inch of the bone joints looked as if they had been cast by molten iron. If any more were stuffed in, it would overflow.

Qi and Blood Five Levels, Refining the Impurity Realm.

The door was just one step away from him.

To be honest, all he wants to do right now is go back inside, boil water for a medicinal bath, and finish up the last bit of progress.

But Yi Yang loosened his fist.

The closer you get to the goal, the more afraid you are of missing a step. Breakthroughs can't be rushed. Today's cultivation has reached its limit. I don't know if using a medicinal bath to force an improvement will leave any hidden dangers, so let's wait a bit.

I went to roll call as usual during the day.

When I get back in the evening, one medicinal bath and a few rounds of standing meditation are enough.

Yi Yang stretched his wrists and drew half a bucket of water from the well to wash his face. The water rippled, reflecting his old face.

His face had changed so much compared to six months ago that even he found it unbelievable. The wrinkles were still there, but the folds were much shallower. The complexion beneath his skin was rosy and full, not the sickly flush, but the confidence that only a middle-aged man possesses.

The black hair at the ends had climbed up another half inch.

Although it's not too noticeable when it's wrapped up in white hair, if it keeps growing this long, I'll probably have to wear a hat when I go out.

"grandfather."

The kitchen door creaked open, and Jiang Yuexin came out carrying a bowl of hot porridge.

The little girl walked into the courtyard, put the bowl of porridge on the stone table, and looked up at Yiyang.

I took another look.

On the third glance, her gaze lingered on the few strands of black hair at the ends of Yi Yang's head, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly.

Yi Yang picked up the bowl of porridge and took a sip.

"What are you looking at? Do I have flowers on my face?"

Jiang Yuexin pursed her lips, twisting the hem of her apron with her fingers, hesitating several times before finally managing to squeeze out half a sentence: "Grandpa, are you... getting younger and younger?"

Yi Yang put down the bowl of porridge and patted his chest.

"Of course. Your grandpa is old but still vigorous, getting more and more energetic with age."

He paused, a rare moment of relief appearing on his face.

"Wait a little longer. Once Grandpa has sorted out what he's doing, we'll see if he can get a big reward. Then we'll have a chance to move to the county town and live the good life that county town people have."

Jiang Yuexin was stunned.

county seat?

The little girl lowered her head and took the empty porridge bowl from Yiyang, her voice soft.

"Grandpa, this is fine as it is."

She raised her eyes again, her gaze lingering on Yi Yang's face for a couple of moments.

"I just feel that... Grandpa is in such good spirits lately, he doesn't look like he's sixty years old."

"Alright, alright, stop worrying about your grandpa's age. Lock the door and don't let outsiders into the yard."

After saying this, Yi Yang changed into the official uniform of the Sky Patrol Bureau, hung a sword at his waist, and went out.

As Yi Yang reached the corner of the alley, he slowed his pace.

Yang Hui's steamed bun stall is set up in its usual spot by the roadside. Steam rises from the steamer, and the aroma of meat, wrapped in heat, wafts into your nostrils. You can smell it from a dozen steps away, making your stomach itch.

"Uncle Yi!"

When Yang Hui saw him, she poked her long chopsticks into the steamer, picked up two large meat buns, stuffed them into the oil paper, and handed them over.

"Didn't you eat enough this morning? Here, have something to eat."

Yi Yang took it and took a bite. The meat juice was so hot that he hissed but couldn't bear to spit it out.

"How's business?"

"Not bad." Yang Hui wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve. Her voice was so loud that even Old Zhao, who sells wontons next door, could hear her. "I sold more than thirty in less than half an hour this morning. You know what, the people in town really appreciate my skills."

As she flipped through the steamer basket, she casually remarked, "By the way, Uncle Yi, I heard from the customers buying steamed buns that the army that's cracking down on the cult is returning today. Lots of people in town are preparing to welcome them; people are even cleaning up the southern end of the main road."

Yi Yang nodded while chewing on his steamed bun, but didn't reply.

But in his mind, he had already done the math.

With the army back, the Sky Patrol Division was restored to full strength, and training, patrols, and investigations were fully resumed. His window of opportunity for quiet cultivation ended tonight.

Just right.

Tonight's breakthrough, starting tomorrow, the old man at the fifth level of Qi and Blood will continue to play it safe as before.

Yi Yang stuffed the last bite of the bun into his mouth, waved to Yang Hui, and slowly walked towards the Sky Patrol Division.

The atmosphere changed as soon as they arrived at the gates of the Sky Patrol Office.

It wasn't their usual listless, half-dead demeanor. The remaining guards huddled together, their faces bearing a complex mix of excitement and regret, much like gamblers watching others win money at a casino.

As soon as Yi Yang stepped across the threshold, Sun Hao rushed over.

His round face turned bright red, and his lips moved so fast they could extinguish a candle.

"My lord! News has arrived from the front that the army will arrive at Yunwen Town around noon today! This time it is a great victory; the Nine Evils' branch in Yunlin County has been completely eradicated!"

Yi Yang looked pleased and nodded, saying, "That's good."

After walking a few steps inside, Li Tong ran into the museum from outside, panting as if he had been chased by a dog.

"My lord! We've found out! Deputy Patrol Commander Chen Wuyai personally led the attack, killing Huang Qinghe, the Yunlin County Hall Master of the Nine Evils Sect, as well as several senior deacons! The intensity of the battle was much lower than expected, and the casualties among the participating patrol guards were minimal!"

Upon hearing this, Sun Hao's face fell.

He crouched in the corner, clutching his head, and let out a pig-like wail.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no... The credit was just handed to me for nothing! Why didn't I go?! Three grade-three pills!"

Li Tong also pounded his thigh, saying, "If I had known it was this easy, I would have signed up even if you killed me."

Yi Yang opened the file without even looking up.

With an Inner Qi Realm expert personally overseeing the operation, those below are simply reaping the benefits. Where is the danger?

Qi Shujian's plan from the beginning never intended for his men to fight to the death. What he wanted was a clean and decisive crushing victory, to destroy the Nine Evil Cult's territory with minimal losses, while making all the participants owe him a favor.

That's what you call skill.

As noon approached, Deputy Inspector General Qian Hu ordered all personnel remaining on duty to line up at the south gate of the town to welcome the returning troops.

Yi Yang followed the flow of people out of the Heavenly Patrol Office and arrived at the official road at the town entrance.

The sun was blazing.

More than a hundred guards stood on both sides, their flags fluttering in the wind. Many townspeople also came after hearing the news, gathering from a distance, pointing and commenting, making it even more lively than watching a lion dance during the Spring Festival.

Yi Yang stood at the very end of the line, his old blue robe draped over his official uniform, his back bent, looking no different from an old bean pod wilted by the sun.

Before long, dust rose in the distance.

The sound of hooves grew louder and deeper as they approached, their rapid, muffled thuds making our feet go numb as they pounded on the official road.

Yi Yang strained his ears to discern the underlying patterns amidst the cacophony of hoofbeats and voices—most people were in good health, there were few injured, and the horses' hooves moved in a steady, rhythmic fashion, without any hesitation or panic.

As the procession approached, the armor reflected the light so brightly that it was dazzling. The banners stretched out in a continuous line. Several experts at the fourth level of Qi and Blood were leading the way, followed by the guards of each branch in the middle, and then the supply wagons carrying a lot of captured supplies.

Then Yi Yang's gaze was drawn to a scene.

In the middle of the group, slightly towards the front, a boy was surrounded by more than ten people.

It wasn't just ordinary patrol guards; there were even a few patrol captains among them. This group surrounded the young man, chatting and laughing, showering him with compliments as if they were free, their faces practically cramping from laughing so hard.

The young man was wearing the martial arts uniform of Lei Yun Martial Arts School. His long sword at his waist was still stained with dried dark red blood. He had sharp eyebrows and eyes, and his chin was always raised two inches higher than others.

Yi Zhanzhi.

Yi Yang's eyelids twitched, then drooped.

After the team stopped, the scene completely erupted.

The returning patrolmen and those who remained mingled together, patting each other on the shoulder, handing out water bags, and pulling people aside to inquire about the battle situation, making a commotion even louder than a marketplace.

Yi Yang mingled on the edge of the crowd, and without having to consciously strain his ears, news just poured in.

"Yi Zhanzhi single-handedly killed a member of the Nine Evil Cult at the third level of Qi and Blood!"

"A head-on clash, and I finished off that fiend in less than thirty moves!"

"Seventeen years old! A triple-level Qi and Blood Killer! In actual combat, find me a second person in the entire town who has achieved this!"

"Lei Yun Martial Arts School has really saved face this time, and the bad luck from the deserted village last time has been completely swept away."

"I heard that Director Chen praised him, saying just two words—'Not bad'."

Yi Yang chewed on these words, his face remaining calm.

At seventeen, to be at the third level of Qi and Blood in a duel with another third level of Qi and Blood is indeed impressive. Among ordinary martial artists, he can be considered a young prodigy.

But how strong is that butler?

Is he a monster like Wang Gongqin, who has reached the fourth level of perfection and has also swallowed the Blood Essence Pill, or is he just a novice who has barely touched the threshold of the third level?

In a battle where an expert at the Inner Qi Realm is in charge, the quality of the opponents you get is about the same as picking cabbages at the market; the big, strong ones have already been picked by the higher-ups.

Only the person involved truly knows how much of the credit they claim is genuine.

Of course, Yi Yang wouldn't say that.

The old man can just watch the show; why make trouble for himself?

Just as the crowd was at its liveliest, the sound of a horse-drawn carriage wheel rolling over the stone slabs came from the direction of the town entrance.

A carriage stopped by the roadside, the curtain was lifted, and Yi Xun was the first to jump down.

The old man was wearing a new shirt today, his belt was neatly tied, and his beard had been trimmed. Behind him followed his butler Liu Fu and daughter-in-law Song Yi. The three of them walked briskly, their smiles louder than firecrackers during the New Year.

"Zhanzhi! Zhanzhi!"

From afar, Yi Xun shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice trembling, and the wrinkles on his old face all smoothed out, making him smile like Maitreya Buddha.

Yi Zhanzhi stepped out from the crowd, the bloodstains on his martial arts uniform still unwashed, and the long sword at his waist still unsheathed.

The grandfather and grandson embraced in public.

Yi Xun patted his grandson's shoulder repeatedly with considerable force, his eyes reddening, muttering incessantly.

"Good boy...good boy...the pride of the Yi family..."

Song Yi stood to the side, her handkerchief crumpled in her palm, tears welling in her eyes but refusing to fall, her lips curled up so high they could hold a weight.

Liu Fu stood behind with a forced smile, bowing to everyone he met and saying, "Thank you all for your kindness."

People around him offered their congratulations, and kind words flowed out like a stream.

Yi Yang stood at the end of the queue, about thirty or forty steps away from the lively scene.

He watched the scene of the grandfather and grandson embracing, saw Yi Xun's tearful face, and saw the smiling faces of the onlookers, but he remained unmoved. This kind of excitement was based on strength.

If Yi Yang wanted to, his strength at the fourth level of Qi and Blood could attract a lot of flattery, but would that be useful?

Once Yi Yang's strength breaks through to the Inner Qi Realm, even the major families in the inner city will treat him as an honored guest.

Surrounded by Yi Xun and Song Yi, Yi Zhanzhi turned to leave, his steps already out the door.

But at the moment he turned around, he paused for a moment.

The boy's gaze swept past the noisy crowd and landed precisely on the elderly man with a bent back at the end of the line.

Their eyes met.

Yi Zhanzhi's eyes were complicated.

There was a hint of boasting, a hint of contempt, and a touch of something indescribable—it felt like a student with a perfect score on a test who, when passing by an expelled classmate, had to glance at them again to make sure the other person had seen their score.

Did you see that?

This is the gap.

At seventeen, with Qi and Blood at the third level, he was the last disciple of Lei Yun Martial Arts School and single-handedly killed nine evil cult deacons.

What about you?

At sixty years old, an old man who looks after paper in the museum, ranked thirty-fourth.

You'll never catch up with me in this lifetime.

Sensing the message conveyed in the other person's eyes, Yi Yang glanced back expressionlessly.

It was as indifferent as seeing a weed grow by the roadside.

Then look away.

Yi Zhanzhi withdrew his gaze, assuming that Yi Yang was ashamed and regretful, and let out a short, mocking laugh.

The boy turned and strode away.

His back was tall and imposing, his new martial arts uniform billowed in the wind, and the long sword at his waist swayed with his steps. The dried bloodstains gleamed a dark red in the sunlight.

Yi Yang adjusted the cuffs of his old blue robe, his gaze returning to the bluestone slabs beneath his feet.

He silently recited the string of numbers in his mind.

29,460.

Five hundred and forty short.