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

Three days later, at dawn.

Lei Yun Martial Arts School, Yunlin County.

The bluestone slabs of the training ground were baked by the rising sun, giving off a thin layer of warmth, and the light reflected from the glazed tiles was so bright that it made people squint.

In the center of the arena, Yi Zhanzhi finished his final sword move.

The sword drew a clean arc in the air, and the wind pressure it generated stirred up a small circle of dust on the ground three feet away. The power of the third level of the Qi and Blood Transformation Realm flowed into the blade and then returned. The whole movement was so smooth that there was not a trace of stagnation.

Sheathed the sword.

Yi Zhanzhi exhaled a breath of white air, his forehead glistening with a thin layer of sweat. His chest rose and fell twice before settling back down. The seventeen-year-old boy's physique had already matured, with broad shoulders and a thick back. Standing there, he resembled a sharp weapon that had been drawn from its sheath and then retracted.

Six or seven fellow disciples surrounded the wooden stakes at the edge of the field, some squatting, some leaning against them, their eyes all fixed on the person in the middle of the field.

"Excellent swordsmanship!"

A senior brother at the second level of Qi and Blood was the first to clap his hands, making a loud clapping sound as if he wanted to smash his palms.

"I've practiced this 'Thunder Sword Style' for three years and still can't generate this kind of power. Zhanzhi, how long have you been learning it? Three months?"

Another one was even more outrageous, jumping directly off the wooden stake and jogging to hand over the handkerchief.

"Junior Brother Zhanzhi, wipe your sweat."

Yi Zhanzhi took the handkerchief, casually wiped his forehead a couple of times, and had a faint smile on his lips. His expression was not flamboyant, but the angle of his chin was always two points higher than others, as if he was born to be looked up to.

A senior apprentice, around twenty years old, approached with a teacup. He had a fair complexion and his words were even more fluent than when he practiced swordsmanship.

"Junior Brother Zhanzhi, have you registered for the Celestial Patrol Division's quarterly exam on the ninth of next month?"

Yi Zhanzhi took the teacup, took a sip, and didn't reply immediately.

Without waiting for his reply, the senior brother continued, "Let me tell you, this quarterly exam is very different from before. I heard that Director Qi—a big shot at the second level of the Inner Qi Realm—is supposedly going to attend and observe in person!"

As he spoke, his voice rose slightly, and the light in his eyes shone brighter than the glazed tiles of the training ground: "Think about it, the person Director Qi has his eye on will definitely skip the patrol chief and be appointed to the position of patrol superintendent! That's a powerful position that oversees the affairs of an entire town!"

Someone nearby immediately chimed in, "More than just the patrol chief, he's at the third level of Qi and Blood at seventeen, and last time he single-handedly killed nine evil cult leaders during the siege—who in the entire Yunlin County can boast such a resume? His future in martial arts will be..."

The speaker gave a thumbs-up and pointed to the sky.

"A smooth road ahead."

The crowd chimed in with their praises, making the training ground more bustling than a marketplace.

They showered him with compliments like "a young hero," "once in a century," and "the face of our Lei Yun Martial Arts School," as if they didn't care about money.

Yi Zhanzhi stood in the center of the crowd, holding a teacup. While drinking and resting, he said, "You flatter me, fellow senior brothers. There are many experts in the quarterly exam. I only did my best."

His tone was calm, and his posture humble, but the curve of his lips was impossible to suppress.

Because what he was thinking was a completely different matter.

Fighting for the top three?

No! I want to be number one.

Seventeen years old, with three levels of Qi and Blood, the master's closed-door disciple, and a combat record of killing cult leaders in a siege operation.

Among his peers in the entire Yunlin County, who can match his arm wrestling skills?

The 21-year-old from Tieming Hall? He's four years older, but he's only at the peak of the third level and hasn't broken through yet.

A direct disciple of Cangyun Pavilion? I heard you've reached the fourth level of the threshold, so what? Reaching the threshold and crossing it are two different things. In a real fight, the outcome is still uncertain.

After finishing his tea, Yi Zhanzhi handed the bowl to a respectful disciple standing nearby.

A scene suddenly flashed through my mind: not long ago, on the official road in Yunwen Town, when the army returned in triumph, at the end of the column, a hunched-over old man with white hair, wearing a faded and worn-out uniform of the Sky Patrol Division, stood in the most inconspicuous corner.

The moment their eyes met—the old man's eyes were bright, and he dared to look directly at her, showing no remorse whatsoever.

As Yi Zhanzhi thought this, a silent breath escaped from his nostrils, and he thought to himself:

"This is the first time in his life he's been so humiliated. His great-grandfather actually dared to ask him how much resources he had consumed, and he wouldn't even sell his house to support him. His own family doesn't have a place for the two of them to live, does he? There's still the stables left for them, isn't there?"

No wonder he accomplished nothing for sixty years.

And what about yourself?

At seventeen, I stood in a position that everyone looked up to.

This is how the Yi family should behave. Now, it's too late for any old man to try and curry favor with them.

"Alright, I've rested enough. I'll practice one more round."

Yi Zhanzhi threw the handkerchief back to his senior brother, drew his sword again, pointed the tip at the ground, and felt his blood surging within him.

The fellow students consciously stepped back three steps to make room.

Someone lay on the stake, took Barto's hand, and looked at him with adoration.

"See that? That's what genius is."

……

At the same time.

The study in the backyard of Lei Yun Martial Arts School.

The room wasn't large, but every piece of furniture exuded a sense of history. The desk was made of old mahogany, its patina so thick it reflected one's image. Hanging on the wall was an old, inlaid knife, its scabbard worn down to the point of revealing the base lacquer, but the brass guard on the hilt was polished to a gleaming shine—it was an old object that had been cherished for many years, and its owner had taken even more care of it than himself.

Mu Fenghai sat behind the desk.

He was over fifty years old, with broad shoulders and a square face. His temples were already streaked with silver, but the imposing presence he exuded made the entire study seem to sink half an inch.

Even without deliberately releasing their cultivation level at the sixth level of Qi and Blood Cleansing and Blood Exchange Realm, the sound of Qi and Blood flowing during normal breathing alone is enough to send chills down the spines of ordinary people.

Liao Xu stood in front of the desk.

Twenty-four years old, the eldest disciple of Lei Yun Martial Arts School, with Qi and Blood at the peak of the third level. His left arm was wrapped in bandages; the injury from the battle in the deserted village hadn't fully healed, and it would still throb with pain if he moved too much.

Mu Fenghai put down a roster he was holding.

"Xu'er, this quarterly exam is different from the past."

Liao Xu cupped his hands in greeting: "Master, please speak."

Mu Fenghai tapped two fingers on the desk twice, his rhythm slow: "What level was the quarterly assessment of the Sky Patrol Division in previous years? You know better than me. The internal ranking is just a formality. The top few get some pills and silver rewards, and the bottom few have some of their monthly salary deducted."

He paused for a moment and then said, "But after Qi Shujian arrived, everything changed."

Liao Xu nodded.

Mu Fenghai leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the window, as if he could see the outline of the county town through the paper windowpane: "Second stage of Inner Qi Realm: 'Returning to the Origin of Purity and Turbidity.' What does it mean that someone of this level is in charge of the Yunwen Town branch of the Sky Patrol Division? It means that the Sky Patrol Division's influence in Yunlin County has more than doubled. Before, when we martial arts school disciples wanted to join a powerful force, our first choice was the three major families, followed by the three major gangs. The Sky Patrol Division? We weren't even on the list."

He pointed a finger at the table.

"Things are different now. A martial artist at the Inner Qi Realm can change the landscape of a county. Qi Shujian holds the internal supply channels for pills, advancement opportunities, and martial arts resources of the Sky Patrol Division, which the three major gangs combined cannot match."

Liao Xu continued, "So, this quarterly exam..."

"All the well-known martial arts schools in the county will send people." Mu Fenghai continued, "Iron Cry Hall, Cangyun Hall, White Tiger Martial Academy, they all have to come, plus the patrol chiefs and candidate patrol generals within the Sky Patrol Division, the competition is several times fiercer than in previous years."

As he said this, Mu Fenghai unconsciously rubbed his fingers on the edge of the desk twice. The movement was very light and others might not have noticed it, but Liao Xu had followed him for many years and knew that his master would only make this small movement when he was thinking about certain things.

really.

Mu Fenghai lowered his voice slightly, as if he were talking to himself.

"I spent twelve years stuck at the sixth level of Qi and Blood."

Liao Xu paused for a moment, then continued listening to his master's sigh.

"Twelve years."

Mu Fenghai repeated the number, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "The path of Qi and Blood has reached its end. The Inner Qi Realm requires not only hard work, but also opportunity, comprehension, and talent—all are indispensable. Forcing a breakthrough will only result in qi deviation, which is the least of your worries."

The study was quiet for three breaths.

The shouts of disciples practicing outside the training ground made the room feel even more somber.

Mu Fenghai regained his composure, looked up at Liao Xu, and his gaze sharpened once more.

"So you have to seize the opportunity before you."

He opened the roster and scrolled down line by line with his finger.

"Director Qi selects people based on potential and practical ability, not age. Those who perform well in this assessment can skip the long seniority system within the Sky Patrol Bureau and be assigned to important positions. They can then take advantage of the current chaos—the remnants of cults, gang wars, and infighting within the inner city—to accumulate merits."

He closed the register and tapped the cover with two fingers.

"By then, the Inner Qi Realm will be within reach."

Liao Xu's Adam's apple bobbed.

Inner Qi Realm.

That's the ceiling that every martial artist in the Qi and Blood Realm in every county town dreams of reaching.

"Master, what are your plans regarding the selection of your disciples?"

Mu Fenghai reopened the roster and commented on each name one by one.

"You yourself have perfected the three levels of Qi and Blood, and have a solid foundation in swordsmanship. But I've mentioned your problem many times—your sword strikes are too straightforward and lack variation, making it easy for opponents to figure out your rhythm in actual combat."

Liao Xu lowered his head and did not argue.

"Song Wu is dead."

When he mentioned this name, Mu Fenghai's voice didn't have much of an inflection, but his fingers, which were flipping through the roster, paused for a moment before continuing.

"Most of the remaining fellow disciples are at the second level of Qi and Blood; sending them up would only make them stepping stones for others."

Turn to the last page of the roster.

Mu Fenghai's pen hovered over a name, not moving away.

"Yi Zhanzhi".

He put down his pen and placed his hands, folded together, on the table.

"At seventeen, he is in the middle stage of the third level of Qi and Blood. He has high comprehension and learns quickly. He also has practical experience. In the battle of encirclement and suppression, he killed a cult leader single-handedly. Regardless of the merit of his achievement, it at least proves that he is not afraid in the face of battle and has a strong will to kill."

Liao Xu's brows furrowed slightly, a very small movement, but it did not escape Mu Fenghai's notice.

Mu Fenghai smiled.

"You're not convinced?"

Liao Xu shook his head: "It's not that I'm unconvinced. It's just..."

He hesitated for a moment before speaking, "Junior Brother Zhanzhi is indeed exceptionally talented. However, I am worried that he lacks composure. If he encounters a truly formidable opponent in the quarterly examination, will he be able to remain calm?"

Mu Fenghai nodded, not denying the question.

"So go and pass on a message."

He stood up, walked to the window, and with his back to Liao Xu, instructed, "Tell Zhan Zhi that from today onwards, he should no longer spar with his fellow disciples in the academy. He should conserve his strength and build up his energy. In the quarterly examination, there is a 21-year-old at the peak of the third level of Qi and Blood in the Iron Cry Hall; the personal disciple of the Cangyun Hall's master is said to have already reached the threshold of the fourth level."

Mu Fenghai turned around, his gaze deep and intense.

"Tell him to tone it down. Too much brilliance can lead to failure."

Liao Xu clasped his hands in a fist salute: "Disciple understands."

He turned to leave, and as his hand touched the doorframe, he heard Mu Fenghai's voice behind him.

"Xu'er".

"Disciple is here."

"You should also be prepared."

Liao Xu was slightly taken aback, then nodded emphatically and pushed open the door to leave.

Mu Fenghai was the only one left in the study.

Sunlight streamed through the window paper, warming half of his body. His gaze fell on the old knife on the wall—the first knife he had used when he was twenty-three, which had been with him for most of his life.

His lips moved, but his voice was so low that he could barely hear it himself.

"Inner Qi Realm..."

The three words lingered between my teeth, like chewing a bitter blade of grass.

Twelve years.

For twelve years, he tried every method he could think of: elixirs, cultivation techniques, seclusion, enlightenment, and even sought guidance from the outer sect elders of major sects. The answer was always the same—his aptitude had reached its peak; further advancement required more than just effort.

What is needed?

Luck? Fate? Or some inexplicable opportunity?

Mu Fenghai turned his gaze away from the old knife and sat back down at his desk.

The roster was still open, with the three characters "Yi Zhanzhi" circled by the tip of a pen.

He stared at those three words for a long time.

At seventeen, one's Qi and blood are in a state of equilibrium.

At this rate, barring any unforeseen circumstances, reaching the edge of the sixth level before the age of thirty is not a pipe dream. And beyond that…

Mu Fenghai's fingers began to unconsciously rub the edge of the desk again.

What I cannot do, perhaps my disciple can.

This is the kind of thinking a master should have.

But behind the word "maybe" lies something else—something so profound that even Mu Fenghai himself is unwilling to delve into it.

He closed the register and placed it under the paperweight.

The shouts from the training ground outside the window grew louder, and the sounds of the young disciples practicing mingled with the morning breeze, full of vitality.

Mu Fenghai closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair, his face calm, like a bottomless pool of water.