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

Two days have passed.

Sun Mazi disappeared for a few days, and nobody in Sanmu Village took it seriously.

Even if some villagers remembered, they would only curse, "That piece of trash, Sun Mazi, has disappeared again?"

"He probably went to the next village to find a prostitute. His belt is looser than the old dog in the east of the village."

Nobody went to look for it.

Nobody asked.

Yi Yang was not surprised by this.

These village scoundrels are annoying to people when they're alive, and nobody cares about them when they're dead.

That's just how realistic the world is.

If a good person is half an hour away from home, the neighbors will ask if he has fallen into a ditch.

If a rotten person disappears for three to five days, everyone will just hope he dies far away and doesn't bring his stench back with him.

In the Yi family's courtyard, Yi Yang stood under a tree, feet apart, knees slightly bent, arms loosely clasped.

The Wood element in the Birth Stage.

Compared to the first few days, Yi Yang's standing meditation is now much more stable.

The back is still that of an old man, but it no longer sags so badly.

There was a warm feeling coiled around my waist and abdomen.

With each breath, the warmth travels through my limbs, like embers buried in an old stove—not visible on the outside, but scalding hot on the inside.

Jiang Yuexin squatted by the well washing clothes.

The little girl rolled up her sleeves to her elbows, revealing two slender, white arms. Her fingers were soaking in the water, their skin pink from the cold well water.

She secretly glanced at Yi Yang several times.

I finally couldn't resist.

"grandfather."

Yi Yang didn't move.

"Um?"

"Your posture looks tiring."

"Health preservation techniques".

Yi Yang closed his eyes, his breathing long and even.

"I learned it years ago, but I didn't practice it for decades. I've recently picked it up again to practice. My old arms and legs will rust if I don't move them."

Jiang Yuexin wrung out her clothes and tilted her head suspiciously.

"Does practicing health preservation really require standing until you're covered in sweat?"

"What do you know?"

Yi Yang didn't even lift his eyelids.

"Even old trees need to bask in the sun; only when they are thoroughly exposed to the sun will there be fewer insects."

Jiang Yuexin choked and puffed out her cheeks.

"Grandpa, you're getting better and better at fooling people with your words."

Yi Yang stopped his stance, picked up the rough porcelain bowl next to him, and took a sip of warm water.

"You can't fool anyone, not even yourself. Remember, don't tell anyone about this trick."

Jiang Yuexin nodded immediately, her bright, sparkling eyes shining.

I won't tell.

She paused, then lowered her voice.

"Not even Aunt Yang said anything?"

"I won't tell."

"Where's Erniu?"

"I won't tell."

Where's that yellow dog from the village entrance?

Yi Yang glanced at her.

"If it could speak human language, the first thing it would say would be to complain about you."

Jiang Yuexin burst out laughing, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

When this girl laughs, the courtyard seems to brighten up a bit.

The sun rises higher.

The shadows in the courtyard shortened.

Yi Yang stood under the old locust tree again.

Today is the sixth day.

These days, I practice standing meditation three times a day without fail.

Others hone their skills little by little over the years.

Yiyang is different.

"An old steed in its stall may still aspire to gallop a thousand miles." Fate is cruel.

He is sixty years old.

Practice it once, and it's equivalent to practice it sixty times.

Young people compete on talent, medicinal herbs, and the hands-on guidance of their mentors.

Yi Yang desperately sought to live a long life.

Living a long and healthy life is a skill in itself.

Small characters appeared before my eyes.

[Level 1 of Yi Wood Health Preservation Exercise: (960/1000)]

Only forty points left to go.

In other words, as long as he finishes standing in that position once, he will be able to cross that door.

That door was sealed off when I was sixteen by the martial arts instructor's words, "You have no chance to pursue the path of martial arts."

Sixty years.

A full sixty years.

Yi Yang closed his eyes and gently clenched his teeth.

My body is a little sore

But what's a little pain?

I was favored by my parents when I was young, and my heart ached.

In my middle age, I carried firewood back to the village on snowy nights, my feet were blistered and blood smeared inside my straw sandals, but I still made it through.

In his old age, to ensure the safety of a young girl, he even dragged Sun Mazi into a pit.

Now, can a set of stance training still force him to the ground?

joke.

"Come."

Yi Yang uttered a single word in a low voice.

He focused all his attention on his lower abdomen.

Breathing becomes prolonged.

Sweat rolled down the wrinkles on his forehead, dripped onto his chin, and then into his collar.

The faded short-sleeved shirt was soaked through and clung to his thin, dry body.

The heat of the dog days of summer is usually unbearable, but the heat in Yi Yang's chest and abdomen was even hotter than the sun in the sky.

It's burning.

What it burns is the pent-up frustration, regret, and resentment of Yiyang over the past sixty years; it will burn all of these away and transform them into new firewood for the rebirth of Yiyang.

noon.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the locust leaves, falling like scattered gold dust onto Yi Yang's shoulders.

After a certain breath.

A low rumble seemed to emanate from within Yi Yang's body.

The thunder isn't in your ears, it's in your flesh and bones.

The front panel in front of Yi Yang's eyes flickered.

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

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

It became.

Before Yi Yang could think any further, the warmth in his abdomen suddenly spread, and a surge of heat rushed to his limbs and bones.

The dried-up meridians were washed away.

The loose skin and flesh are nourished.

His skin turned bronze, and his muscles, which were originally loose like old tree bark, gradually tightened.

The body's limbs were like fields that had been parched for many years, finally receiving a heavy rain.

Grayish-black grime seeped from the pores, sticky and foul-smelling, the odor hitting the nasal cavity directly.

Yi Yang, however, did not find it offensive at all.

He even wanted to laugh.

The rheumatism and bone pain of the past year, the hidden injuries from chopping firewood, and the old ailments left from falling down the hillside when I was young were all washed away by that hot current.

The pain hasn't completely disappeared.

But it's less than half.

That feeling of lightness was so unfamiliar.

So unfamiliar that Yi Yang almost thought he had returned to his twenties.

He exhaled a breath of stale air.

The breath was frighteningly long.

It was expelled from his chest and took several breaths to finish.

When he opened his eyes again, a sharp glint appeared in his cloudy old eyes, like the cold, white edge of a sharpened wood-chopping knife.

Yi Yang looked down at his fist.

There are still age spots on the back of his fist.

But the power hidden beneath the skin is completely different.

"Sixty years..."

He murmured, his throat tight with emotion.

"I've finally pushed open this door."

After saying that, my eyes welled up with tears.

It's not being pretentious.

It's the exhilarating feeling of finally being able to lift your head and catch your breath after being pressed down in the mud by fate for sixty years.

At the age of sixteen, the title of "martial arts instructor" weighed heavily on Yi Yang for half his life.

Unable to pursue martial arts.

These four words are so light.

When it comes out of someone else's mouth, it's just a light, insignificant remark.

But for Yi Yang, it meant a lifetime of hardship.

He has now managed to tear a hole in this mountain in just six days.

For ordinary townspeople, having access to martial arts schools, medicinal soups, and instructors, it's considered quite good if they can even grasp the basics of skin refining within six months to a year.

Even scions of noble families, with their abundance of fine meat and precious medicines, still need at least three months to recover.

What about Yiyang?

A 60-year-old rural man broke through to this level in just six days.

If this gets out, not only will no one in Sanmu Village believe it, but even the martial arts masters in Yunlin County will start to doubt that they drank too much last night.

Yi Yang finished his practice and lowered his head to smell himself.

"hiss."

He wrinkled his nose.

"Even dogs would avoid this smell."

There is a well in the backyard.

Yi Yang carried a wooden bucket over and fetched water to wash himself.

The icy well water poured over me, and the gray-black grime flowed down my back, spreading in the mud.

He rinsed himself three times before he felt presentable enough to be seen in public.

After washing, Yi Yang looked at his arm.

He was still thin and old.

But there have been significant changes compared to before.

He reached out and pinched the skin on his forearm, twisting it hard until the white mark on the skin was barely visible.

"Skin refining".

Yi Yang murmured the two words.

The skin becomes tough, and blood and qi increase.

This is only the first step in martial arts.

But for a place like Miki Village, it's enough.

Yi Yang turned around and walked to the pile of miscellaneous wood.

There was a broken ironwood stump lying there.

This thing is annoyingly hard; even a regular axe can chip its edge after a few swings. The men in the village all consider it bad luck.

Yi Yang did not bring a wood-chopping knife.

He moved his right hand.

The knuckles were cracking.

Take a deep breath.

Stand firmly on your feet.

The fist was thrown straight out.

Bang!

The broken ironwood stump trembled violently, and cracks spread from where the fist had landed.

Wood chips flew up, a few grazing the back of Yi Yang's hand, but leaving no mark.

That piece of ironwood, so hard that the villagers cursed it, was cracked by his punch.

Yi Yang looked down at his knuckles.

Reddish.

The skin wasn't broken.

The joy in his chest could no longer be contained.

This is the Qi and Blood Martial Artist.

That is power.

Sun Mazi, a lazy bum consumed by wine and women, was now standing in front of Yi Yang. Without ropes, traps, or schemes, Yi Yang could beat him so badly that even his own parents wouldn't recognize him.

Where is Yang Er?

That fat worm, relying on his few days of martial arts training, acted arrogantly throughout the village.

In today's terms, it would only take one or two punches.

Cool.

That felt great.

It was so good that even old bones like Yi Yang wanted to shout out loud.

However, it happened very quickly.

He suppressed that surge of energy.

One should not become arrogant.

Especially in times of chaos.

Many people don't die when they are weak, but when they have just gained some ability.

I just made some money and I want to buy a big house.

He's only just started learning martial arts, yet he wants to act like a master.

He just killed a dog and thinks he can slay a tiger.

The grass on the grave of such a person grows faster than on others.

Yi Yang bent down, dragged the split ironwood stump to the bottom of the woodpile, and covered it with shredded firewood.

The traces in the yard were also cleaned up.

The treasures that should be hidden.

Those who need to be dressed up should dress up.

He continued to be that half-dead old woodcutter.

Secretly accumulate resources and techniques, gathering enough trump cards to scatter the enemy's ashes into the river.

This is the proper way.

noon.

Jiang Yuexin brought the brown rice porridge to the table and also set out two small dishes.

A dish of salted radish.

A dish of wild vegetables mixed with garlic.

There was also an egg, which she secretly cut in half and pushed to the edge of Yi Yang's bowl.

"Grandpa, dinner's ready."

Yi Yang changed into a clean short-sleeved shirt and slowly sat down.

Jiang Yuexin looked up and stopped eating.

She rubbed her eyes and leaned closer.

The girl smelled of soapberry and grass mixed together, and gently landed on Yi Yang's shoulder.

"grandfather."

"What's wrong?"

"Come here a little."

"Do we need to inspect goods before eating?"

"Don't move."

Jiang Yuexin reached out and brushed aside the gray hairs at Yi Yang's temples.

The little girl's eyes widened and widened.

"Grandpa! You really look younger!"

Yi Yang paused, his hand still holding the salted radish.

"Nonsense, I'm almost sixty, what's so young about me?"

"real!"

Jiang Yuexin got anxious and simply walked around to face him, staring at his face.

"The lines on your face aren't as deep anymore, and your cheeks are a bit redder. And here too."

She pointed to Yi Yang's hair roots.

"There's a bluish-black tinge under the white hair!"

Yi Yang scratched his head, knowing what was going on, but he didn't budge an inch.

"Practicing health preservation techniques improves blood circulation, which simply makes one's complexion better."

Jiang Yuexin's eyes shone brightly.

"Then practice more! Practice every day!"

She leaned towards the sun.

"Didn't you say I was sweating buckets and feeling really tired from standing?"

"I'll train even if it's tiring."

The little girl placed half an egg into his bowl, her tone earnest.

"It would be better if Grandpa could live a few more years."

Yi Yang's heart softened.

But he still teased her verbally.

"What? Grandpa's gotten younger, that's good! I can protect you for a few more years, so you won't get reported by that yellow dog."

Jiang Yuexin's eyes immediately reddened.

She put down her chopsticks, hugged Yi Yang's arm, and pressed her face against his shoulder, like a little bird returning to its nest.

"Of course."

"I want my grandfather to live to be a hundred years old and stay with me forever."

Yi Yang did not speak.

He simply raised his hand and ruffled her hair.

This little girl doesn't understand anything.

He knows everything.

After the meal.

Jiang Yuexin hummed a country tune as she went to wash the dishes.

Yi Yang lay back down in the old rattan chair.

The rattan creaked and groaned, the same old sound.

But the person lying on it was no longer the old woodcutter who could only swallow his anger.

Yi Yang's thoughts began.

The panel appears.

[Yi Wood Health Preservation Exercise Level 2: (0/3000)]

Three thousand.

Demand has tripled.

Yi Yang looked at the line of text and tapped his fingers on the armrest of the rattan chair.

After reaching the stage of skin refining, the body's energy consumption also increases.

That feeling of hunger had already surfaced when I broke through in the morning.

If you still rely on coarse rice and wild vegetables to get by, you can train, but you'll be drained dry.

Poor scholars, rich warriors.

These four words are not meant to scare poor people.

Lean meat, medicinal herbs, blood-qi powder, blood-qi pills, and even exotic animal meat.

These all cost money.

A large amount of silver.

Yi Yang touched his cuffs, his gaze falling on a certain spot in the room.

The piece of purple wood on Qingmu Mountain is still hidden, but he shaved off a small piece last time he went up the mountain.

That thing was originally the root of the problem.

Now, however, it can be transformed into cultivation resources.

Of course, you can't be reckless when selling things.

Neither Yunwen Township nor Yunlin County are good places.

Showing off your wealth is no different from washing your neck clean and handing it to the knife.

However, if he doesn't exchange resources, progressing to the second level of the Yi Wood Nourishing Skill will be much slower, but Yang Er and his brother in the county town won't give him much time.

Yi Yang squinted his old eyes.

"Looks like I'll have to go out for a bit."

The rattan chair swayed gently.