Becoming a Saint Starting with the Chasing Wind Leg Technique

The next day, Song Jing was itching to test his skills and originally planned to first spar with Senior Brother Zhou.

I changed my mind later and decided to go there today. If Senior Brother Zhou knew that I had mastered the Golden Bell Shield, wouldn't that scare him?

It would be more reasonable to go in seven days; the tallest tree in the forest is bound to be felled by the wind.

Take advantage of these seven days to accelerate your cultivation.

At dawn, shouts and cheers echoed throughout the training grounds of the Zhuifeng Martial Arts Academy.

Song Jing stood shirtless in the center of the arena, his physique strong and imposing, dressed in the formal martial arts uniform of a disciple, exuding youthful vigor.

Today, he is a "sparring coach," whose job is to teach new disciples leg techniques, allowing them to practice striking, throwing, and kicking. Sometimes, he also has to spar and give pointers on the spot to hone their courage and accuracy.

"Your kicks need to be fast, and your retraction needs to be steady!" His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the noise. "You're not hitting a sandbag, you're hitting living people!"

A boy mustered his courage and rushed over, delivering a straight punch to his chest.

Song Jing neither dodged nor evaded, letting the attack strike him—his skin gleamed with a faint golden light, and the "Golden Bell Cover" silently activated.

"Power comes from the ground. If your waist and hips don't turn, your fist is useless." He grabbed the other's wrist and gently pulled him. The boy staggered forward, but was caught by him just as he was about to fall.

"Again."

This scene repeats itself dozens of times every day. He is a human target, a living teaching material, and also the most silent guardian.

The old master allowed him to work part-time, with a monthly salary of five taels of silver, plus free meat from the martial arts school. The meat from the school was not comparable to ordinary meat; it was fresh, of superior quality, and almost entirely lean meat, which was very nourishing for blood and qi. The amount of money he could save each month was not a small sum.

As the sun began to set, the crowd dispersed.

Song Jing walked alone towards the stone house on the back mountain, his shoulders and neck stiff as iron.

He had just sat down in the corner when Zhou Xingyun emerged from behind a tree and tossed him a water pouch.

"Another day as a sparring partner?" Senior Brother Zhou asked with a smile, his eyes showing approval.

Song Jing took the water pouch and took a swig, his Adam's apple bobbing: "It's better than joining the army or escorting goods. At least I can practice martial arts, the life is stable, and the income is decent. It suits me quite well."

He paused, then asked in a low voice, "Senior brother, the surface tempering process has been feeling a bit off lately; progress is incredibly slow. Is there any way to speed it up?"

Zhou Xingyun sat down cross-legged, his expression serious: "The path of cultivation cannot be rushed; it must be taken step by step."

He stared at Song Jing: "However... if you really want it to be fast, you can raise the temperature to eighty degrees."

Song Jing's eyes lit up: "How was the effect?"

"The quenching speed will probably more than double," Zhou Xingyun said solemnly. "But the pain will also increase exponentially—at eighty degrees Celsius, the iron filings are like needles, each one feeling like scraping your bone. An ordinary person wouldn't last more than half an incense stick's time before fainting."

Even martial artists would feel excruciating pain!

"What about recovery?"

"That's the key," Zhou Xingyun said in a low voice. "After being tempered at eighty degrees, the surface damage is extremely deep and can only be repaired with a high-quality tempering ointment."

Applying regular ointments is no different from smearing water—not only ineffective, but it can also clog pores and slow down the process.

"A small jar of premium skin-tempering ointment costs five taels of silver, enough for half a month's supply, which is ten taels a month." Zhou Xingyun sighed, "But... the more you give, the more you receive. Money is also a form of giving, a very important one, not just hard work."

"Your senior brother won't misjudge you. I believe you have the perseverance to hold on. Junior brother, you can certainly give it a try."

Song Jing was silent for a moment, then nodded: "I understand. Senior Brother, have you ever heard of the Skin-Shedding Pill and how to use it?"

Zhou Xingyun suddenly became serious: "The molting pill is too far away for you right now, don't be too hasty."

"You're only at the Niu Pi realm now; most of the medicinal power will dissipate, and the effects won't be complete. Not fully absorbing the medicinal power would be a complete waste. Besides, it's recently been selling for 120 taels per pill on the black market!"

Upon hearing this, Song Jing already had a plan in mind: he decided not to use it for the time being, unless he needed to break through to the Iron Skin Realm in a critical moment and make it in one go, otherwise it would not be worthwhile.

He patted Song Jing on the shoulder: "Martial arts is like climbing a mountain; one wrong step leads to slow progress in every step."

Every bit of effort and every penny you expend now is building momentum for reaching the summit.

That day, Song Jing followed his senior brother's instructions.

He gritted his teeth and plunged his hands into the 80-degree iron sand, his skin instantly turning red as if pierced by a thousand needles.

The iron filings rubbed against his skin, causing him so much pain that his vision blurred, and cold sweat mixed with the pool water, rising into a white mist.

But he didn't utter a sound.

Only one thought remained in my mind:

One point of clarity, one point of strength, one point of speed.

Today's suffering is tomorrow's stepping stone.

Meanwhile, on the stone steps in the distance, Zhou Xingyun, after the last time, truly recognized his junior brother's talent in martial arts cultivation and his perseverance in realm cultivation. At this moment, he was like a hidden dragon emerging from the abyss.

He silently put down a newly bought jar of premium skin-strengthening cream, turned around and left.

He knew that this junior brother would eventually shatter all the contempt and make a name for himself.

Song Jing understood his senior brother's good intentions, accepted the premium skin-tempering ointment, and continued his cultivation.

Naked, he submerged his hands in iron sand, his skin turning blood red. At 80 degrees Celsius, each grain of iron sand felt like a red-hot needle, piercing his skin.

He gritted his teeth, cold sweat mingling with the pool water, but he didn't utter a sound—this was the seventh day he had persisted in tempering at 80 degrees Celsius, and his proficiency was increasing rapidly every day. Compared to before when he often gained about half a proficiency point a day, he had now reached a full proficiency point.

However, the cost is that it requires about five taels of silver worth of high-quality skin-tempering ointment every month, and the greater cost is the pain that increases exponentially.

Although the panel will automatically increase proficiency, you still need to practice diligently to speed things up.

[Person] Song Jing

[Realm Progress] Minor Success in Skin Forging - Bullhide Realm (31/100)

[Cultivation Technique Progress]

Minor Mastery of the Chasing Wind Leg Technique (12/100)

Beginner's Guide to the Golden Bell Shield (7/100)

Just as he closed his eyes to concentrate, he suddenly heard footsteps coming from the stone path.

"Huh?" A gruff voice rang out, "This kid... he actually tempered himself in 80-degree iron sand?"

Song Jing opened his eyes and looked up.

The two stood by the pool, one tall and one short, with contrasting auras.

The man on the left was nearly nine feet tall, with a broad back and a thick waist, a beard like a halberd, and muscles in his arms that were knotted like old tree roots—it was none other than the fourth senior brother, Shen Tu Hao, who was quite strong in the Copper Skin Realm and was famous in Xiushui. He once shattered three pieces of blue stone with one hand.

The slightly shorter one on the right has a pale face, sharp eyes like an eagle, long fingers, and a faint medicinal scent emanating from his cuffs—this is Fifth Senior Brother Pang Jingyuan.

"Fourth Senior Brother? Fifth Senior Brother?" Song Jing was slightly surprised. These two were the old master's personal disciples in his early years. They were often away from home and rarely seen.

A hint of surprise flashed in Shen Tu Hao's eyes, which quickly turned into admiration: "Good lad! An eighty-degree iron sand bath... I tried it once back then, and I passed out after half an incense stick's time. You can actually stick to it every day?"

Pang Jingyuan nodded slightly, his voice deep: "To dare to temper one's body like this at the lowest level is either insane or a testament to great perseverance. This boy... is bound to achieve great things in the future."

The two exchanged a glance, both seeing a sense of appreciation for each other's talent in each other's eyes.

Shen Tuhao was about to speak when he suddenly heard a cold laugh coming from the woods:

"Fourth and fifth senior brothers are here too? Don't be fooled by this kid!"

Sun Li and Liu Jiankun emerged from behind the tree, their faces beaming with smiles, but their eyes were filled with malice, harboring a bellyful of evil intentions.

Shen Tu Hao and Pang Jingyuan looked puzzled. Seeing their acquaintances Sun Li and Liu Jiankun say such things, they were curious and asked, "Junior Brother Liu and Junior Brother Sun, what makes you say this?"