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

The door to the main hall on the fourth floor of Qianyang Tower was tightly shut.

After parting ways with Huang Yushu, Ye Yang returned to his duty room, sat down, drank a cup of tea, and his goatee twitched with the movement of his chin.

Yi Yang has been quiet these past few days, and Ye Yang thinks that the old man is probably planning to turn a blind eye, but the two are not yet familiar with each other.

Therefore, Ye Yang decided to try to get closer to Yi Yang and test his true intentions.

Gifts!

By catering to their preferences and getting them on the same side, once Yi Yang accepts the gifts, he'll feel obligated to help them and will be more lenient when checking the accounts later. Besides, the goods the Li family needs are due soon.

But the question is, what should we give?

Ye Yang walked around the room for the third time.

A woman?! That old man doesn't seem like the type to be attracted to beautiful women. He spends all his time reading and practicing martial arts in the main hall, and he doesn't even go near brothels.

Cultivation techniques and elixirs? Ye Yang shook his head. Qianyang Tower had plenty of these things; they were merely icing on the cake. If Yi Yang really wanted them, he could just get them from the storeroom; why go through him?

Ye Yang plopped back into the armchair, resting his elbows on the armrests and tapping his temples with his fingers.

"That old bastard..." he gritted his teeth, pondering, "What exactly is he after?"

It wasn't until the sun outside the window moved from the east to its zenith, and he drank two more pots of cold tea, that his anxiety slowly subsided, coalescing into a vague thought.

Forget it.

No matter what you give as a gift, nothing beats giving money.

These days, everything else is fake, only money is real.

With money, what can't you buy? Cultivation techniques, elixirs, beauties, power—in the end, aren't they all built on money? Ye Yang was able to climb to his current position by smuggling elixirs from the Heavenly Patrol Bureau's treasury with his left hand and sending them to the Li family in exchange for money with his right.

As long as the money is there, the connections will naturally follow.

Ye Yang's eyes lit up.

He reached under the chair and pulled out a hidden compartment, revealing a thick stack of silver notes. He ran his fingers over them; each note was a hundred taels, fifteen in total. This was his share of the profits he'd received from the Li family this quarter.

One thousand five hundred taels.

This amount is just right—not too much, not too little; too little and I'd feel bad; too much and I'd feel bad. It's perfectly priced, leaving no room for criticism.

Ye Yang neatly stacked the silver notes, then found an ordinary old book, a collection of miscellaneous notes written by a scholar from the previous dynasty, which was sold everywhere in the market. He carefully tucked the silver notes into the pages of the book, flattened them with his palm, and made sure that there was nothing unusual about them from the outside.

After doing all this, Ye Yang finally managed a slight smile.

What is this called? This is called "nurturing things silently".

You, Yiyang, love reading, don't you? It's perfectly reasonable for me to give you an ancient book. As for what's tucked inside... that's a scholar's refined pursuit; who cares?

He tucked the book into his pocket, straightened his clothes, and tidied his goatee in front of the bronze mirror.

The face in the mirror still wore its usual smile, but the look in its eyes had long since changed.

……

The next day, just after Chen Shi (7-9 AM).

Yi Yang pushed open the door to the main hall and slowly walked behind the large sandalwood desk to sit down.

The table was spotless. The teacup had been taken away by the maid yesterday, and the writing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone were neatly arranged on the shelf. However, there was something extra in the center of the table.

An old book.

The book had a blue cloth cover, the edges were worn and frayed, and the spine had been re-stitched with thread. It looked like one of those miscellaneous notes you'd found at a secondhand bookstore, not worth much.

Yi Yang's brow twitched slightly.

He reached for the book and casually flipped through a couple of pages. The paper was yellowed, but the ink was still clear; it contained anecdotes about some literati from the previous dynasty, nothing particularly remarkable.

Just as he turned to the third page, Yi Yang stopped moving.

The thickness of the paper I touched with my fingertips was off. It was slightly thicker than the other pages, and I could feel a bit stiffness at the edges.

He laid the book flat on the table and gently pressed the edges of the pages with his fingertips. The thickness was very even, as if something was sandwiched inside.

Yi Yang's expression changed; there was no surprise, no doubt, not even a hint of astonishment.

He calmly flipped the page in half, revealing fifteen silver notes neatly stacked inside.

Each note has a face value of one hundred taels. The ink is fresh, the seal is clear, and it is a banknote issued by several large money shops in Yunlin County.

One thousand five hundred taels.

Yi Yang stared at the silver notes for a few moments.

Then he smiled.

The smile was faint and subtle, the corners of his mouth merely curving slightly. Yet, deep within those cloudy old eyes, something extremely cold flashed, so fast it was impossible to grasp.

Ye Yang, oh Ye Yang.

He took out the banknotes one by one, twirled them between his fingers, and put them back. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he were checking an ordinary item of goods.

We must accept it.

If he doesn't accept the money, Ye Yang, that old fox, will start to have doubts, wondering if he's really planning to turn a blind eye. Only if he accepts it will Ye Yang think he's on board and lower his guard to continue.

Yi Yang tucked the silver note back into the book, closed it, and casually slipped it into a hidden compartment under the desk.

Money is a good thing.

But it cannot be taken all by itself.

We need to find someone influential to share the burden. To share the risks and the subsequent troubles. As for who to find… Yi Yang leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the armrest.

She already has someone in mind.

For the next two days, Yi Yang stayed in the main hall as usual.

Huang Yushu would come to report once every evening, recounting the same mundane events. Yi Yang would listen, occasionally responding, his face revealing no emotion.

On the evening of the third day, just as Huang Yushu finished his report and was about to leave, Yi Yang suddenly spoke up.

"Old Huang."

Huang Yushu paused, then turned back. "My lord?"

Yi Yang took the old book out of the hidden compartment, turned to the page with the silver notes, and pushed it onto the table. "Take a look at this."

Huang Yushu looked down.

His pupils suddenly contracted.

"Ye Yang gave it to me," Yi Yang said casually, as if he were just saying the weather was nice today. "It was on my desk the morning before yesterday."

Huang Yushu's breathing became heavier.

He looked up at Yi Yang. The adult's face was expressionless, even with his usual faint smile. But there was something heavy weighing on his eyes, like a stone at the bottom of a deep pool, unseen and intangible, yet sending chills down one's spine.

"That old dog!" Huang Yushu gritted his teeth. "What is he doing..."

"He thought that because I accepted the gift, I would be on his side." Yi Yang interrupted him, closing the book. "Too bad, he was wrong."

Huang Yu opened his mouth several times, then closed it again.

Yi Yang stood up and walked to the window. Outside, the bustling crowds of Qianyang Street mingled with shouts and haggling, creating a noisy, sweltering atmosphere.

"The remainder," Yi Yang said, her back to him, her voice low. "Let me explain a principle to you."

"Listen up, Your Majesty."

"In this world, generally speaking, you make as many friends as possible and as few enemies as possible." Yi Yang turned around, his cloudy eyes now eerily calm. "But if you really encounter an enemy, then you have to be ruthless!"

His voice was soft, but every word was like an iron nail, driven into Huang Yushu's ears.

"Letting the other person go is just making things difficult for yourself!"

Huang Yushu's back was instantly soaked with cold sweat.

It's not fear.

It was a deep-seated reverence for the old man before him. He suddenly realized that his father's usual demeanor of being old, senile, and indifferent to worldly affairs was all a facade.

What lies beneath is true ruthlessness.

"Sir, when should we..." Huang Yushu lowered his voice, "when should we make our move?"

Yi Yang sat back down at his desk, picked up the book, and weighed it in his hand.

"It will be soon, in the next few days."

Huang Yushu took a deep breath, clasped his hands in a fist and said, "Your subordinate understands."

……

Three days later, at midnight.

In the west of Yunlin County, there is a quiet alley.

The alley was so narrow that only two people could walk side by side. On both sides were gray earthen walls, with waist-high weeds growing at their base. There were no lanterns, no moonlight, only a few dim yellow lights shining through from the main street in the distance, fragmenting the darkness in the alley.

Ye Yang stood in the shadows at the alley entrance, followed by two trusted confidants.

He was dressed in a dark, close-fitting outfit, a short knife hanging at his waist, his fingers unconsciously stroking the rope wrapped around the hilt. The night wind blew in from the alley entrance, carrying the chill of early autumn, making the back of his neck feel tight.

"Master Ye, why haven't the Li family members arrived yet?" A thin, monkey-faced servant approached from behind, his voice hushed.

Ye Yang didn't turn around; his eyes were fixed on the darkness deep inside the alley.

"What's the rush?" His voice was dry. "What's meant to happen will happen."

That's what he said, but the unease in his heart grew wildly like weeds.

Ever since he gave Yi Yang that ancient book with the silver note inside, he had been waiting, waiting for Yi Yang's attitude, waiting for the Li family's response.

Yi Yang has taken the money, but he's remained secluded in the building for the past few days, neither speaking to him nor checking the accounts. Logically, this means he's accepted the money and acknowledged the debt.

But what about the Li family...?

The agreed time was midnight.

It's past midnight, and there's still not a soul in the alley.

Ye Yang's forehead began to sweat.

"Wait a little longer." He licked his chapped lips. "Perhaps there was a delay on the way."

The skinny monkey-faced man dared not speak further, taking a half step back, but his eyes kept glancing at both ends of the alley.

Time crawls by, bit by bit.

The night wind grew stronger, rustling the wild grass as if something was crawling in it. Ye Yang's palms were covered in cold sweat, and the hilt of his short knife was warm and sticky from his grip.

Just when he was about to lose his temper—

Footsteps echoed from the depths of the alley.

More than one person.

There were four or five people, their footsteps were uniform, and they made a clear crunching sound as they stepped on the gravel road.

Ye Yang's heart skipped a beat, then slowly returned to its original position.

coming.

He took two steps forward and lowered his voice, "Are you from the Li family?"

In the darkness, a figure walked to the front. It was a middle-aged man wearing a blue cloth robe, his face indistinct in the shadows.

"Manager Ye," the middle-aged man said, his voice hoarse, "the things have been brought."

Ye Yang breathed a sigh of relief, and a smile returned to his face.

"You must have had a tough journey, right?" He rubbed his hands together, but his eyes were fixed on the wooden box.

"Have you prepared all the elixirs?"

"All prepared." Ye Yang pulled the wooden box that was blocking his back to the front and opened the lid. Inside, three rows of small porcelain bottles were neatly stacked, with labels on the bottles indicating that they were Grade 4 Blood Qi Pills specially supplied by Qianyang Tower.

The middle-aged man squatted down, picked up a bottle, uncorked it, and brought it to his nose to smell. The aroma was strong, indicating it was of superior quality.

"Good stuff." He nodded with satisfaction, put the bottle back in, closed the box, and then took out a thick stack of silver notes from his pocket, counted out thirty-five, and handed them over.

Ye Yang took it, twirled it between his fingers, and confirmed it was a banknote issued through a money exchange. He was about to put it in his pocket—

At both ends of the alley, lights were lit simultaneously.

A dozen torches were lit at the same time, and the flames leaped up, instantly illuminating the entire alley. The firelight reflected off the earthen walls on both sides, dancing and turning the gray walls a dark red.

Ye Yang's hand froze in mid-air.

He suddenly raised his head.

The alleyway entrance was already crowded with people. The uniforms of the Sky Patrol Division were particularly dazzling in the firelight, with crimson cloud and thunder patterns embroidered on their shoulders like scorching scars.