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

three days later.

Miki Village in the afternoon.

In the courtyard, Yi Yang stood under a tree, feet apart, knees slightly bent, arms loosely crossed in front of his chest.

The Wood element in the Birth Stage.

Three days ago, after doing it once, Yi Yang felt like he had walked three mountain trails, and his bones ached.

But after a few days of perseverance, it wasn't so tiring anymore.

Sweat beads slid down my forehead, seeping into my wrinkles, and it felt a little itchy.

Yi Yang did not raise his hand to wipe it.

He held his last few breaths firmly until the warmth in his lower abdomen slowly dissipated, then he stopped his stance.

Small characters appeared before my eyes.

An old steed in its stall may still aspire to gallop a thousand miles.

[Level 1 of Yi Wood Health Preservation Exercise: (720/1000)]

Yi Yang picked up the rough porcelain bowl and drank two mouthfuls of warm water.

The water had a slightly earthy taste, but it tasted sweet when it went down my throat.

720.

almost.

In two more days, he will be able to step into the first level of Qi and Blood, and refine his skin.

By then, their skin and flesh will be tougher, and their strength will increase significantly.

Although it's just the threshold of martial arts, for a place like Miki Village, he is undoubtedly the strongest.

Yi Yang put the bowl down and ran his fingertip along the nick on the rim.

He's been practicing very steadily these past few days.

Do it three times a day, without being greedy for quick results or overexerting yourself.

In terms of food, try to add half a bowl of brown rice and occasionally boil an egg.

Just as Yi Yang was thinking about whether to cook some more wild vegetable soup that evening, footsteps came from outside the courtyard gate.

It wasn't Yang Hui's brisk, energetic stride, nor the bouncy, skipping steps of village children.

The steps were drawn out, heavy, and deliberately slowed down, making a grand display.

Yi Yang pressed his eyelids together, picked up the broken fan, and sat back down on the recliner.

They didn't knock on the gate.

The door creaked open.

A fat man squeezed in.

The gate wasn't narrow, but this man had broad shoulders and a round belly. When he entered, his belly peeked through first, and the fat around his waist jiggled with each step. His face was full of fat, and his triangular eyes swept across the courtyard, making him look exactly like a fat worm in human skin.

Yang Er.

Nobody in Miki Village wanted to associate with him.

This beast has done a lot of things to bully men and women, and he also has an older brother named Yang Da who works in the county government.

After entering the house, Yang Er first scanned the yard, his gaze lingering on the woodpile, the kitchen, and the small house where Jiang Yuexin lived.

Yi Yang saw it.

This guy isn't just visiting.

"Grandpa Yi, are you sunbathing?"

Yang Er grinned, with vegetable leaves still stuck between his teeth.

Yi Yang waved his tattered fan.

"If the sun is in the sky, how can it rain if it's not shining?"

Yang Er was speechless for a moment, his face twitched, but he quickly put on his usual friendly, unassuming demeanor again.

"The old man still knows how to talk."

As he spoke, without asking whether the owner was willing, he lifted his foot and walked into the yard.

Their feet were covered in mud, leaving a trail of dirty footprints on the ground.

Yi Yang looked at the set of footprints but didn't say anything.

Yang Er walked to the old locust tree, put his hands on his stomach, and squinted his triangular eyes.

"I've come today because I have some good news to tell you."

Yi Yang waved his fan very slowly.

"At my age, I haven't heard much good news lately. Tell me something, so I can have some good things to hear too."

Yang Er chuckled twice.

"Grandpa, don't make fun of me. You and your granddaughter aren't having an easy time, are you? In the summer, no one buys firewood for heating, and your few acres of barren land don't produce much grain. You're an old man, and you're raising that girl Yuexin. It's tough for you."

Yi Yang didn't turn around, but tapped the fan handle on his knee.

"Whether life is tough or not, you deal with it behind closed doors. Why is Master Yang worrying about that?"

"What are you saying?"

Yang Er patted his belly, and the flesh swayed.

"I'm doing this for your own good. Yuexin isn't young anymore, and she just wanders around the village all day, not doing much farm work. There are a few families in the city that take in maids, providing food and lodging, and even paying them a monthly allowance."

He glanced towards Jiang Yuexin's room, wanting to know if she was there.

"She's pretty and hardworking. Going to the city to work is much better than staying in this shabby courtyard. Who knows, she might even marry into a good family someday, and then your grandfather won't have to worry about feeding himself anymore."

Yi Yang's face remained expressionless.

"You're silly, there are too many rules in the city, I'm afraid you'll cause trouble for others if you go."

"It's good to be a little slow, it's good to be a little slow and obedient."

Yang Er blurted it out, then realized it was inappropriate and coughed.

"I mean, obedient girls are more likable."

Yi Yang looked up at him, her eyes revealing a mystery.

Although Yi Yang was an old man, Yang Er felt a strange tightness in the back of his neck, and then cursed himself in his heart.

What is there to be ashamed of for an old woodcutter who is almost sixty?

Feeling a little embarrassed for having been startled, Yang Er simply sat down on a wooden bench in the courtyard.

The wooden stool creaked and groaned under his weight.

"Of course, if the old man can't bear to part with Yuexin, there's a way."

Yi Yang asked, "What method?"

Yang Er was waiting for this sentence, so he leaned forward with his fat face and lowered his voice.

"I heard you have a piece of purple wood?"

Upon hearing the question, Yi Yang, without stopping, feigned surprise and said:

"Zimu?"

"Yes, purple wood."

Yang Er stared intently at Yi Yang, wishing he could peel back every single wrinkle on the old man's face to examine it.

"You've got no use for that stuff. It's just a windfall you found in the mountains; keeping it too long will attract insects, thieves, and even bad luck. If you really have it, sell it to me; I'll give you a good price."

"With money, what's the point of you and Yuexin being separate? You can buy rice, meat, build a house, anything."

Yi Yang took a sip of water and said with some doubt, "Where did you hear this gossip, Master Yang? I'm just a woodcutter, how could I possibly have purple wood? If I had that stuff, would I still be wearing these patched clothes?"

Yang Er's feigned warmth slowly faded. His triangular eyes revealed a fierce look, and he simply dropped the pretense, saying menacingly:

"Old man, we're all from the same village, there's no need to play dumb."

Yi Yang, without the slightest fear, said, "I am indeed a bit muddled, but I'm getting old."

Don't try to fool me.

Yang slapped his knee with both hands, causing his fat to jiggle.

"Sun Mazi heard it with his own ears. That girl Yuexin let it slip to someone. It wouldn't be right for you to say no, would it?"

Yi Yang continued waving his tattered fan, saying, "Children are so gossipy, believing everything they hear, and never uttering a word of truth?"

Yang Er felt a tightness in his chest from those words.

He didn't know if the old man was telling the truth or not. He had intended to intimidate the old man and make him comply, but he didn't expect Yi Yang to be so stubborn and slippery as a mudfish in a ditch.

Yang Er stood up, his fat body blocking half of the sunlight from Yi Yang's view.

"Grandpa Yi, I speak so politely out of respect for your age. Don't mistake my politeness for me being easy to bully."

He took half a step forward.

"These days, if something is too valuable and falls into the hands of someone who lacks ability, it's not a blessing, it's a death sentence. If you can't protect it, neither can Yuexin."

Yi Yang raised his head and ignored the obese body as if he hadn't seen it.

Yang Er continued menacingly, "I'm doing this for your own good. Hand over the purple wood, and I'll pay you so we can all be at peace. If you keep denying it, what if a thief breaks into the house one day, or Yuexin encounters bad people on the street? Wouldn't that be a pity?"

Seeing that the other party wanted to use Yuexin to threaten him, Yi Yang narrowed his eyes and remained silent.

He stood up, walked to the woodpile, bent down, and picked up the old wood-chopping knife.

The woodcutter Pang also had a piece of ironwood on display.

This wood is hard, and everyone in the village hates it. It's hard to chop and slow to burn.

Yi Yangyou raised his knife and aimed it at Tie Mu.

Seeing the other person's actions, Yang Er squinted and said, "Old man, what are you doing? Trying to scare me?"

Before he could finish speaking, the woodcutter's axe fell.

Click.

Ironwood was separated from the wood.

The crack is straight.

The two halves of the wood fell to the left and right, their cut surfaces rough yet clean and neat.

Yang Er's words were cut off before he could finish speaking.

He had seen the men in the village chop ironwood.

Some people had to slash it seven or eight times, sweating profusely, but still couldn't break it. Even Yang Er, a village bully who had practiced martial arts but hadn't become a martial artist, wasn't confident he could split it in one go.

But Yi Yang's move just now was excessively decisive.

The problem is, where does a sixty-year-old woodcutter get such steady strength?

Yi Yang held the wood-chopping knife in his hand, the tip of the knife hanging down.

"Did Master Yang see it?"

Yang Er didn't respond.

Yi Yang nudged the two halves of ironwood with his foot.

"I still have some wood-chopping skills; Yuexin won't go hungry. I'll decline the offer of a job in the city. I've only ever heard of purple wood, never actually seen it."

Yang Erfei's face was tense, and his triangular eyes flashed with fierce intent.

He really wanted to have an outburst.

But that wood-chopping knife was in Yi Yang's hands.

What's worse, he knew that Yi Yang had a younger brother in Yunwen Town.

The two brothers haven't been in contact for years, and everyone in the village knows that. But even if they haven't been in contact, if the old man is driven to his death in the yard, who can guarantee that the Yi family in town won't use this as an excuse to cause trouble?

Yang Erheng isn't brainless.

There's a right and wrong way to bully the lonely and vulnerable.

If the fire gets too big, it will burn your own crotch.

Yang Er tugged at his clothes and exhaled a breath of hot air.

"OK."

He pointed to Yiyang, then to the door.

"I'll remember that the old man is strong. But a person can't live on bones alone. The mountain roads in the village are slippery and the wind is strong at night, and Yuexin likes to run outside, so you have to keep a close eye on her."

Yi Yang calmly said as he sat back in his recliner, "No need to trouble yourself."

Yang Er turned and walked out.

Yi Yang didn't send it.

Outside the courtyard gate, Sun Mazi was huddled in the shadows against the wall.

His face was covered in freckles, his eyes darted around, and his crotch was still awkwardly clenched, clearly not fully healed from the kick he received a few days ago.

As soon as Yang Er stepped out the door, he raised his leg and kicked out.

"waste!"

Sun Mazi was kicked and swayed to the side, then quickly forced a smile.

"Second Master, what's wrong? That old man won't acknowledge us?"

"Acknowledge my ass."

Yang Er lowered his voice, his anger seeping out from between his teeth.

"That old fox is really slippery; he even showed me his skills with a machete. Didn't you say your information was accurate?"

Sun Mazi rubbed his legs, his face covered in a cluster of pockmarks.

"Accurate, definitely accurate. Erniu made it very clear, Jiang Yuexin said it herself. The purple wood is in Old Man Yi's hands."

Yang Er glanced at the courtyard gate, his voice even lower.

"Keep an eye on him."

"Who are you watching?"

"Who else could it be? Keep an eye on old man Yi. See where he goes up the mountain, see if he moves anything in the middle of the night. Don't rush to make a move, find out where the things are first."

Sun Mazi nodded hurriedly. "Don't worry, Second Master, I'm an expert at keeping an eye on people. I can count how many times that old man has gone to the outhouse."

Yang Er kicked his shin again.

"Stop disgusting me. If you do it well, you'll get the benefits. If you mess it up, I'll have my brother throw you in the county jail to wake you up."

Sun Mazi shrank back.

"Understood, understood."

The two thought they were speaking in a low voice and that no one inside the wall could hear them.

Although Yi Yang was lying on a recliner in the courtyard, his three days of stance training had not been in vain.

Although the body's energy and blood are not yet fully developed, the hearing is already much more sensitive than usual.

Those few words from outside the door were clearly heard.

Yi Yang looked down at the machete beside him, picked it up, and rubbed the back of the blade with his thumb.

Sun Mazi.

This fly can't be kept.

The next day, just as dawn broke and the roosters crowed twice, Jiang Yuexin was still not awake.

Yi Yang had already changed into his old short jacket, slung his firewood basket over his shoulder, grabbed his wood-chopping knife, and headed out the door.

He wasn't walking fast.

An old woodcutter like him would attract attention if he walked too fast.

The mountain road winds and twists, with waist-high weeds on both sides and insects scurrying about under the leaves.

Yi Yang walked for a while, then stopped to tie his straw sandals.

Behind me, there was a very faint rustling sound from the grass.

Yi Yang looked down at the overgrown mountain path, a cold smile appearing on his face: "They've taken the bait."