Becoming a Saint Starting with the Chasing Wind Leg Technique

Compared to that night when he had no choice but to launch a sneak attack to win, Song Jing is now worlds apart.

At that time, he was still on the verge of the Skin Forging Realm, his blood and qi were not yet stable, and his muscles and bones were not yet fully formed. Facing Vajra and Iron Head, who were in their prime, even though they were only low-level thugs in the Black Tiger Gang, he had to take advantage of the cover of night to sneak up and kill them with one blow. Any hesitation would alert them and lead to an ambush.

In that battle, he fought with all his might, but was still grazed on the shoulder by Tie Tou's punch. Although it did not break his defense, it made his blood surge and he staggered half a step when he landed. That tiny mistake is still regarded as a disgrace by him to this day.

But now, he has reached the level of "cow-skin realm," his palms are as hard as iron, and his steps are as swift as the wind.

One person, one foot, that's enough.

So fast that the enemy didn't even have time to feel horror; before fear could even solidify in their throats, their neck bones were already shattered.

He could even imagine—if he were to encounter that scene again, there would be no need to lie in wait, no need to wait; a mere shadow would sweep by, and the two of them would collapse to the ground like broken logs. Silent, without a trace, without a moment to catch their breath.

However, Song Jing did not make a fuss about it.

He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white, his eyes calm as an ancient well.

He knew that displaying such speed in public would attract attention.

Zhang Wu will be wary, Li Wei will suppress him, and the Black Tiger Gang will retaliate with all its might.

The deaths of King Kong and Iron Head were already shrouded in mystery. If he were to reveal strength far exceeding that of ordinary people in the Bullhide Realm, he would most likely be suspected of being the culprit.

At present, the outside world is only speculating and there is no concrete evidence, but if he is not careful, he will be doomed.

He must take advantage of this buffer period during which he can still hide his strength to push it to a higher level, high enough to not be afraid of being surrounded and killed by the entire Black Tiger Gang!

His fierce leg techniques, if not for the cover of darkness, would surely have caused trouble.

When people do things, there are always traces left behind; it's just a matter of sooner or later they will be discovered.

Only by concealing one's strengths and remaining humble can one quietly ascend to the summit before the storm arrives.

So he continued to practice his skills in silence, walked with light steps, kept his eyes down, and spoke humbly when talking to people, never arguing with them.

Only when the night is deep and all is quiet, he quietly kicks the door in the courtyard—

"call out!"

Ten steps away, a small tree as thick as a bowl snapped in two, the cut as smooth as a mirror, without a single rough edge.

As the wind blew, the tree trunk slowly tilted and crashed to the ground, startling a flock of night birds.

Speed ​​is his greatest weapon;

Hiding is his deepest shield.

Speed ​​has become his sharpest weapon.

But he still didn't know what level he was at.

Even among those skilled in armor, there are varying levels of skill and strength: some are thick-skinned and heavy-armored, specializing in "heavy armor" tactics; some have long-lasting health and are adept at prolonged battles; and some are as fast and agile as lightning, specializing in blitzkrieg attacks.

He needs a ruler to measure what he has learned.

So he decided to find Zhou Xingyun and inquire if there were any reliable jobs that would earn him money.

After all, killing is quick, but it cannot be done often.

If this happens repeatedly, clues will eventually be left behind, and those with ulterior motives will piece together the truth.

He needs a legitimate, stable, and sustainable source of income to acquire elixirs, cultivation techniques, and intelligence to pave the way for the future.

In the morning, Zhou Xingyun returned from the docks outside the city, cursing as he walked: "Who the hell spread the rumor that I killed Iron Head of the Black Tiger Gang, and even said I stole their monthly allowance! What bad luck! Although those two bastards deserved to die, why am I being made to take the blame?"

He spat, his face grim: "That Qiu Daxuan is a real pain in the neck, insisting I killed someone and he owes me money, and he even sent people to ambush me at the dock for two days! I'll pay him nothing! If it weren't for the reputation of the master, I would have punched his stinking mouth to pieces long ago!"

As he was cursing angrily, he suddenly saw Song Jing standing calmly in front of the martial arts school.

"Oh? Junior brother's here." His tone changed, and he looked him up and down, a smile appearing in his eyes. "Junior brother, you've changed into this outfit," he chuckled, "and you're no longer the same as before, covered in grime and wearing faded coarse cloth. Your features are clear, your posture upright, and now you're a formal disciple of the Chasing Wind Martial Arts School, a respectable figure—would you like me to help you find a good girl? Several young ladies in the city are always inquiring about the young talents at the martial arts school!"

Song Jing was taken aback, then quickly waved his hand, his ears turning slightly red: "Senior brother is joking! I am still young and only want to focus on martial arts training. How could I dare to think about matters of the heart? The path of martial arts is long and arduous. If one's mind is even slightly distracted, one may stop progressing. It is better to wait until one has achieved something before discussing marriage."

Seeing his serious expression, Zhou Xingyun stopped joking and nodded in approval, saying, "Good! Only with a firm will can one achieve great things."

After a moment's thought, he said, "Since you want to find a way out and earn some money, I can point you in a few directions—"

"Firstly, you could join the army." Zhou Xingyun's tone turned serious. "Now that rebels are rising up everywhere and wars are ongoing, the county government is recruiting soldiers on a large scale. Ordinary soldiers earn no more than five hundred coins a month, starting from digging trenches and transporting grain. It may take three to five years before they can get ahead."

He changed the subject: "But you are different. You are a formal disciple, and you have already mastered the leather forging realm. You have not been defeated by the iron sand trial for the duration of an incense stick. With this qualification, if you apply for a position, you can be directly appointed as a 'squad leader' and lead a ten-man squad. Your basic monthly salary is eight taels of silver, which is several times that of an ordinary soldier."

In wartime, a decapitation strike earns a reward of five taels of silver. Accumulated merits may even lead to a promotion to centurion, with continuously increasing benefits and high potential for advancement!

Song Jing's eyes flickered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure.

Plenty of money, power, and quick promotions.

A clear and straightforward path to wealth and prosperity lies before us.

Zhou Xingyun stared at him and said, word by word, "But this road is too dangerous. Even martial artists, even those at the second level, have perished."

"Military drills are like torture, whipping to establish authority, life and death are left to fate; in war, you charge ahead and cover the rear, a team of ten often dwindles to three or five. If you're unlucky enough to be surrounded by a large army, you'll likely be reduced to ashes, your name forgotten. You didn't join the army for a meal, and at least you're not desperate now. The path of military service is suitable for desperate men or those with connections to military leaders, not for you."

Song Jing remained silent for a long time before slowly shaking his head. He had already made up his mind: "Money is plentiful, but life is more precious. I have only just entered the path of martial arts, and my foundation is not yet stable. If I die on the nameless battlefield, wouldn't it be a waste of this second chance at life? What I want is not a lot of money at this moment, but a path that allows me to keep living and getting stronger."

"Secondly," Zhou Xingyun continued, "you could work as a porter at a security escort agency, or even as a deputy porter."

"The two escort agencies in town, 'Weiyuan' and 'Changfeng,' often hire martial artists to escort goods to and from the county seat. A single trip can earn anywhere from three or four taels of silver to eight or nine taels. If the goods being escorted are valuable, the reward is even higher. A monthly income of seven or eight taels of silver is easily achievable."

He paused, his expression grave: "But now, with war raging and refugees everywhere, the escort routes are fraught with danger. Bandits roam the mountains, and life is a constant struggle; it's common for entire escort teams to be wiped out, their bodies never recovered. Although you have the cultivation of the Skin Forging Realm, if you encounter an ambush by a master or besieged by a pack of wolves, you may not be able to protect yourself. Moreover, the escort agency is very strict with rules; those who disobey will be expelled at best, and have their hands cut off as a warning to others at worst. If you're only after money, you can go; but if it's for the martial arts, the risks are too great."

Song Jing frowned slightly and shook his head gently: "My foundation is not yet stable, and I still need to mature. Escorting goods is fast, but it's like walking a tightrope; one wrong step and it's all over."

"Thirdly," Zhou Xingyun continued, "Several powerful families in the town, such as the Xu, Li, Wang, and Zhang families, often seek martial artists to serve as family retainers, guard their homes, and deter villains. The treatment is generous, starting at ten taels of silver per month, and the treatment will decrease as the qi and blood decline. Food and lodging are provided, and there are also rewards during festivals, so there is no worry about food and clothing."

His tone turned cold: "But once you sign the contract, it's like selling yourself into servitude, losing all your freedom. You'll patrol the courtyard during the day and guard the gate at night, forbidden from leaving the mansion without permission, forbidden from privately teaching disciples, and forbidden from participating in Jianghu disputes."

Although it was a relaxed job, it was like being a prisoner, working for only one family and clan. Those who became worshippers were mostly martial artists whose potential had been exhausted and who could no longer break through. They "sold" themselves in order to secure a stable life in their later years.

But you are different—you've only just begun, barely entered the Skin Forging Realm, with a vast road ahead. Why confine yourself within those high walls so early?

After hearing this, Song Jing had already made up his mind.

Join the army? In the chaos of war, life is as worthless as grass.

Escorting goods? It's a life of constant danger, living on the edge of a knife.

Offering sacrifices? Once the contract of servitude is signed, freedom is lost, and the path of martial arts is severed.

None of these three paths were what he sought.

He said in a deep voice, "Thank you for your guidance, Senior Brother. I am still young, and I have only taken my first step on the path of martial arts. How can I let a few taels of silver clip my wings?"

"Senior brother," he clasped his hands in a solemn gesture, "none of these three paths are what I seek."

Zhou Xingyun raised an eyebrow: "Oh? Then tell me, what do you want?"

Song Jing's gaze was firm as he said, word by word, "I want a stable and reliable path that won't interfere with my cultivation, will allow me to earn money, and will give me the freedom to come and go as I please. One that doesn't involve danger, doesn't require selling myself, doesn't attract attention, but allows me to move forward steadily."

Zhou Xingyun looked at him and suddenly smiled.

"Good! You have your own opinions!"

He patted Song Jing on the shoulder, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes: "In that case—I do have a place for you..."