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

Yi Yang looked at the things on the table. He neither reached out nor refused. He picked up the bowl of cold water and took another sip, making an unpleasant smacking sound.

Put down the bowl.

He looked up and asked, "How did you know the old man was at the fifth level of Qi and Blood?"

How did you know I have Qi and Blood Level 5?

Zhou Jiang knew the other party would definitely ask this question. He straightened up, still feeling a lingering fear, and said, "These past few days, I haven't received any news from Tang Hao, so I had some suspicions. Later, I learned that Tang Hao died in the turmoil a few days ago—"

He paused for a moment, then his wry smile deepened.

"Zhou knew then that the plan had completely failed."

His gaze fell on Yi Yang's face, and complex emotions churned deep within his pupils.

"So I went to see Tang Hao's body myself. And the bodies of Cao Tie and Qian Jiu from the Red Tiger Gang."

Zhou Jiang lowered his voice and said, "All three were killed with a single blow. Tang Hao's neck was broken, Cao Tie's head was severed from his body, and Qian Jiu's legs were broken before he finished him off. None of them had the strength to resist in the slightest."

He paused for two breaths: "Although I am not very talented, I am still at the fourth level of Qi and Blood. After seeing those three corpses, I understood—a person who can achieve this level is definitely not at the fourth level. At least the fifth level."

He added at the end, "Or even higher."

Zhou Jiang lowered his voice by half an inch, "In the entire Yunwen Town, only Steward Fang Yue is openly at the fifth level, but Lord Fang Yue naturally wouldn't take action against them. So, Elder Yi, I dare not guess how deep you've been hiding, but I know that continuing to oppose you won't be a matter that can be resolved by paying money."

The room was quiet for a few moments, then Yi Yang silently tapped his fingers twice on his knee.

Zhou Jiang's deduction was reasonable. From the perspective of a fourth-level cultivator, only a fifth-level cultivator could kill three third-level experts without them even having the chance to struggle. But how many more were there above the fifth level? Zhou Jiang couldn't guess, nor did he need to let him guess.

Yi Yang finally reached out, and two items were pushed in front of him: the silver notes were stacked on his left, and the sunflower box was placed on his right. He weighed the silver notes in his hand, then closed the lid of the box, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were picking out two bunches of scallions and weighing them while buying vegetables.

"I've accepted the things." Five words, neither too heavy nor too light.

Zhou Jiang's shoulders visibly relaxed, and he took half a step back, as if a string that had been stretched for too long had finally released its strength. His breathing became heavy, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, glistening in the dim light of the evening.

"But I don't want the silver notes." Zhou Jiang was taken aback.

Yi Yang tapped the table and said, "Three thousand taels of silver. Use your connections to exchange it all for sixth-grade mortal pills. Any kind will do, as long as they can aid in Qi and Blood Realm cultivation. You have more connections in the county than I do; pills are more valuable than silver."

Zhou Jiang's lips moved slightly, then he nodded earnestly and said, "I will do my best to handle it and deliver it to your residence within half a month."

"Um."

Yi Yang picked up the bowl and took another sip of water to moisten his throat. When he put the bowl down, his tone changed, shifting from the coldness of a transaction to the casualness of casual conversation.

"There's something I need to ask you." Zhou Jiang tensed up, wondering what new developments had occurred in Yi Yang.

"Where did that book, 'Internal Cultivation of the Five Organs,' come from?"

The question lingered in the air, and when it reached Zhou Jiang's ears, it carried a chill. He didn't hesitate for long; at this point, hiding anything would only make the other party think he had a backup plan. So he revealed everything he knew.

"As far as I know, that martial arts technique belonged to the Li family, one of the three major families, a hundred or two hundred years ago."

Yi Yang raised his eyelids slightly.

Zhou Jiang spoke very quickly, almost like he was pouring out beans.

"Over a hundred years ago, a descendant of a collateral branch of the Li family stole this internal cultivation manual and fled the clan territory. The Li family investigated for a while, but the matter was eventually dropped. As far as Zhou knows, the Li family still doesn't know how the manual was stolen, or even if it was ever truly lost. But since then, the Li family has declined, no longer holding the top position among the three great families, and is now on par with the other two."

"The descendants of that branch of the sect hid in a small county town on the border of Qingzhou for two generations, but none of them were able to master it. Most recently, there hasn't even been a single martial artist at the first level of Qi and Blood. I, Zhou, obtained this clue by chance from an ancient book..."

He swallowed hard and said cautiously, "Zhou sent Yang Shuqing to handle it. That collateral branch, all seventeen members, were wiped out to prevent future trouble. After the cultivation technique fell into Yang Shuqing's hands, it wasn't even given to me before it was..."

Needless to say, Yi Yang was involved in everything that followed.

Yang Shuqing took the cultivation manual up the mountain and never returned.

Yi Yang put down the bowl and nodded: "Understood."

He stood up, the stool leg scraping against the brick surface with a short, sharp sound.

"Since you're so sensible, and the terms you're offering are enough to buy your life, then our score is settled."

A look of relief washed over Zhou Jiang as he was about to clasp his hands in thanks.

"But I'll leave it at that."

Yi Yang placed his right hand on the knife at his waist.

The movements were slow, so slow that Zhou Jiang could see them clearly—five fingers gripping the hilt one by one, thumb pressing against the handguard, and the web of the hand tightening.

Draw your sword.

The sound of the blade being drawn was extremely short, almost as short as drawing a thread. Yi Yang flipped his wrist, and the blade was pointed at the old square table ten steps away.

There was no build-up of strength, no momentum.

It was just a light, fleeting wave.

hum-

A visible white shockwave shot out from the tip of the blade, so fast that Zhou Jiang's pupils couldn't even keep up with its trajectory.

The shockwave traveled ten steps and hit the center of the square table precisely.

Crackling sound.

The square table split in the middle.

It wasn't split open, it wasn't chopped off—it was torn apart from the inside.

The tabletop shattered into seven or eight pieces of wood of varying sizes, two of the legs buckled, and the remaining parts wobbled a couple more times before finally collapsing. Wood chips flew out and hit the wall with a series of crackling sounds.

A cloud of wood dust rose from the room.

Zhou Jiang froze.

My legs felt like they were filled with molten lead, and the sweat on my back instantly soaked through my undershirt, trickling down from my shoulder blades.

The sword energy leaves the body.

Ten steps away, objects are shattered in mid-air.

This is not something a martial artist at the Qi and Blood Realm can do.

This is the Inner Qi Realm.

Only martial artists who have concentrated their internal energy can separate their power from the blade, maintain its shape in mid-air, and cause damage.

Zhou Jiang swallowed hard. His earlier assessment was that he was at the fifth level of Qi and Blood, but this sudden attack—

Five times is not possible.

Absolutely impossible.

His knees buckled, and he stumbled back half a step, his back slamming against the doorframe.

Yi Yang sheathed his sword with a click.

The sound was very soft, but to Zhou Jiang it was no different from a death knell.

"Master Zhou."

Yi Yang's voice was hoarse and flat, unchanged from when he was drinking water from the bowl.

"Make the road wider."

Zhou Jiang's lips trembled slightly as he managed to squeeze out a few words.

"Zhou...understands."

He clasped his hands together, bent at a ninety-degree angle, and his fingertips trembled.

Zhou Jiang turned and left quickly, his steps noticeably faster than when he came in.

Step out of the threshold, step back over the yard, step back to the yard gate.

He never turned around, always facing Yiyang as he backed away, until his back hit the wooden plank of the courtyard gate. He frantically groped for the latch, pried it open, and squeezed through the crack in the door.

The footsteps faded into the distance, their rhythm completely disrupted as they trod on the blue bricks of the alley, feeling as if they were being chased by a dog.

The courtyard returned to silence.

The locust tree leaves rustled.

Yi Yang stood amidst a pile of broken wood and looked down at the knife in his hand.

There are no nicks or chips on the blade.

That last movement wasn't internal energy leaving the body.

He hasn't even reached the Inner Qi Realm yet; he's far from it.

After mastering the Nine Peaks Blade, one additional effect is the outward release of the blade's energy.

It's not real internal energy, but rather the flow of blood and qi into the blade, which is then used to squeeze out excess force from the tip of the blade at the moment of swinging, creating a short-range destructive air wave.

It's not even in the same league as the life-threatening energy of a martial artist at the Inner Qi Realm.

But it's enough to scare people.

After tucking the knife back into his waistband, Yi Yang bent down and picked up the undamaged rough porcelain bowl from the pile of wood shards. He blew away the wood ash inside, poured in some cold water, and took a sip.