Becoming a Saint Starting with the Chasing Wind Leg Technique

The evening breeze, carrying the faint scent of cooking smoke and dust, swept through the old street.

As usual, Song Jing turned into Li Ji Restaurant, and the aroma of wine wafted out when the blue curtain was lifted.

"Three taels of 'Old Li's' coins, keep warm." He tapped the counter lightly with his fingertips, the copper coins falling crisply.

The shopkeeper skillfully wrapped the wine jars and then handed over a packet of osmanthus sugar: "Young friend, you've been a regular customer; here's a little treat for you."

Turning to the meat stall on the street corner, my heart suddenly sank.

Wang the butcher's stall was glaringly empty: the chopping board was dusty and cracked, the boning knife was stuck diagonally in the wooden block, half a piece of dried pigskin was spinning in the wind, and the blood groove was covered with dark red stains. Even the yellow dog that usually barked and protected its owner was nowhere to be seen.

Song Jing called out three times, startling the crows on the eaves, but all he heard was the rustling of a rat scurrying across the ditch at the end of the alley.

"Young hero..." Granny Liu, who sells tofu, trembled as she grabbed his sleeve, her eyes red-rimmed. "Butcher Wang passed away five days ago last month! The meat soup he stewed in the stove went bad three times. The yamen sent someone to inquire once, but nothing came of it..." Before she could finish speaking, her throat tightened, and her withered fingers gripped Song Jing's sleeve tightly, with bits of unwashed bean curd stuck under her fingernails.

Suddenly, a series of "thumps" were heard!

Seven or eight villagers staggered out of their houses, their clothes tattered and their faces pale and emaciated.

The old man at the head slammed his forehead heavily against the bluestone slab, leaving a trail of blood: "Hero Song! Please save us!" The cries of women and children rose up behind him. The baby in the young woman's arms cried incessantly, its little hands were frozen purple, and there was a suspicious dark red stain on the swaddling clothes—it looked like dried blood.

"The Blood Lotus Sect kidnapped Zhao the blacksmith's daughter again last night!" The old man gripped Song Jing's clothes tightly with his withered claws, tears streaming down his face, his voice hoarse as a broken gong, "They're sucking people's blood to make medicine, and they've even chewed up the bones to feed the dogs... We don't want to die! Please, great hero, save us!"

The crowd knelt down in unison, their foreheads hitting the ground with a chorus of thuds, their cries tearing through the twilight: "We'd do anything... just to survive!"

Song Jing clenched his fist quietly in his sleeve, his fingertips digging into his palm, his nails almost piercing his skin.

He saw the bloodstain on the old man's forehead and the faint breathing of the baby in the young woman's arms, and his chest was filled with pity.

The vermilion gates of the outer city government office were so close, yet they remained tightly shut.

Even if a martial arts school disciple has the cultivation level of Iron Skin Realm, how many people can he protect?

Being poor cares themselves, being wealthy cares the world.

The situation is unclear at this moment. If we act rashly, we will not only fail to save anyone, but we will also implicate our senior brother and the martial arts school.

He took a deep breath, his voice as steady as a rock: "Please rise, everyone."

Now that this matter has been reported to the authorities, there will definitely be an inspection afterwards, so everyone can just wait patiently.

Keep doors and windows tightly closed, and do not travel at night.

"At the same time, I will report this matter to the master. I believe the master will make his own arrangements. This is the most I can do." After saying this, he stuffed three hundred copper coins from his pocket into the old man's hand. When he turned around, his back was straight, but his steps were heavier than when he came.

The bluestone slabs reflected the setting sun; each step conveyed a silent determination, and the hem of clothing brushed against the base of the wall.

It carried a faint, lingering smell of blood—exactly the same lingering odor from Butcher Wang's stall earlier.

Unbeknownst to him, a dark figure glanced at him with eyes like a venomous snake before silently disappearing.

This person is none other than Ma Xiaosan.

The short, fat man, Ma Xiaosan, was licking his dry, cracked lips. His eyes were sunken like a skull, and his fingernails were black with an eerie purple tinge, clearly showing signs of years of being soaked in human blood.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he licked the groove on the dagger with the tip of his tongue: "This kid smells so good!"

Wow... such rich and fragrant energy! It smells amazing even from this far away!

If this fair-skinned, tender-looking boy were offered to the sect leader to refine the "Blood Fiend Pill," we could at least get a taste of the soup.

Maybe the sect leader will be in a good mood and reward me with a pill, which might allow me to break through to the late Iron Skin Realm!

This person must be a rubber band, or perhaps he has just entered the Iron Skin Realm.

With my current mid-stage Iron Mirror skill, it's impossible for me to kidnap someone without alerting them.

It seems the only option is to ask two more friends from the helm to join us. With the three of us working together, we're sure to succeed.

Even if the reward is divided equally, this bonus would still be incredibly generous.

He rubbed his withered hands together, his Adam's apple bobbing, a lewd glint in his eyes, and began to fantasize: "I've heard that the new top courtesan at the Drunken Red Mansion is 'Xu Ruyan'..."

The setting sun cast a blood-red glow at the alley entrance, and Song Jing's back, standing with his hands behind his back, cast a cold, iron-like silhouette in the twilight. His clothes fluttered without wind, as if an invisible energy was quietly flowing through them.

His fingertips unconsciously brushed over the leg technique marks on his waist, and his brow furrowed slightly: Why is there a putrid smell of blood in this wind?

No, this smell clearly carries a chilling, deathly aura, as if it's seeping from near the tree...

Suddenly, his ears twitched slightly as he caught a strange sound.

The wind stopped.

But the copper bells on the eaves rang out softly and eerily.

The five senses tempered by the Iron Skin Realm unfolded like a spider web: in the shadow of the dry well beside the tree three zhang away, a series of sticky, intertwined breaths carried the stench of rust and old blood scabs.

He glanced at the edge of the well out of the corner of his eye and noticed several fresh scratches on the moss, clearly from someone accidentally brushing against it when they squatted down earlier.

Then, the tip of their nose caught that strange smell again: the sweet, fishy smell of rotting flesh mixed with cheap cosmetics, which was exactly the "smell of the Blood Lotus Cultists" that the villagers had lamented!

He lowered his eyes to hide the cold glint in them, but deliberately made his steps a little heavier, the soles of his shoes making a "rustling" sound as they rolled over the gravel.

Prepare for the possibility that an enemy might be hiding here.

If someone launches a sneak attack, you can react immediately and avoid suffering a major loss before the fight even begins; survival is the top priority.

Out of the corner of my eye, I swept across the dry well—in the shadows around the well, half a black fingernail was digging into the cracks in the brickwork, the knuckles turning bluish-white from the force, and dark red debris was embedded in the nail.

The stench of blood is overwhelming! The bits of flesh under my fingernails... do they look like human flesh?

It seems that this was the scene where Butcher Wang met his demise.

Something big has indeed happened in the city. Song Jing plans to discuss it with his fellow disciples early tomorrow morning.

Then report all of this to the curator and ask him to make a decision.

Song Jing returned home and devoted himself to practicing his cultivation techniques all night. Before he knew it, the next day had arrived.

[Person] Song Jing

[Realm Progress] Minor Completion of Skin Forging - Iron Skin Realm (2/100)

【Chasing Wind Leg Technique - Minor Success】(78/100)

[Golden Bell Cover - Beginner] (70/100)

【Wind and Thunder Leg Technique - Beginner】(72/100)

The first skill to break through should be the Wind Chasing Leg Technique, which can be mastered from minor to major levels.

At the current pace, it will only take eleven days.

The next day at dawn, the morning mist had not yet dissipated at the Zhuifeng Martial Arts School's training ground.

At the Chasing Wind Martial Arts School, Song Jing first sought out his second senior brother, third senior sister, and sixth senior brother to discuss the matter.

All three were curious, and seeing Song Jing's somewhat hurried appearance, they had some guesses in their hearts.

They asked in unison, "Junior brother, is there something urgent today?"

They invited the three of us out together.

Song Jing recounted everything he had seen and heard the previous night and the past few days in a concise and precise manner, each word like a nail: "Does Butcher Wang know?"

The one in the village who often sells meat?

Yesterday, the bloodstains on the stall were still wet, and there were fingernail fragments mixed with human blood in the dry well next to it.

Currently, only a few households have gone missing, and there seems to be nothing unusual, but we must be wary of cult members.

The Blood Lotus Cult has likely infiltrated the heart of the town's old street.

Third Senior Sister Lin Wan'er's delicate hands trembled slightly, her teacup swaying gently between her fingers, and her eyes suddenly reddened: "I was completely unaware... If I had known earlier that the people in the city were suffering so much, how could things have come to this!" She quietly clenched the handkerchief in her sleeve, but her voice became even clearer and colder, "From this moment on, I will lead some disciples to patrol the streets near the hall for three days, secretly investigating any suspicious traces."

"We must never allow our martial arts school disciples to fall into a trap, be kidnapped, and have their blood drained and bones crushed."

Second Senior Brother Zhuo Bufan stood with his hands behind his back under the corridor, his black robes fluttering, his eyes like a deep pool: "The family's secret report also arrived not long ago: the Blood Lotus Sect's 'Blood Fiend Hall' branch has infiltrated the outer city."

The Blood Lotus Sect's specialty is extracting blood from corpses and refining it into pills, such as the Blood Fiend Pill, which can enhance cultivation.

In the past, when the world was at peace, there were not so many corpses. War and sacrifice have taken their toll, but now they are taking advantage of the chaos of war to rise from the ashes.

"Junior Brother Song is able to detect enemy movements even in the smallest details of the marketplace; his attention to detail is truly admirable." He lightly tapped the jade pendant at his waist with his fingertips. "At 9:00 AM, I will personally go to the yamen to inquire about the situation."

"Clang!"

The teacup in Sixth Brother Zhou Xingyun's hand shattered on the ground with a crash, and the scalding tea steamed up in white mist.

His eyes were bloodshot, his knuckles clenched until they turned white: "Drawing bones and refining blood, utterly destroying humanity! If I can capture a Blood Lotus Cultist—" He suddenly unleashed a gust of wind, and the wooden stake three zhang away cracked open with spiderweb-like patterns, "I will shatter its bones with my Wind-Chasing Leg Technique, to appease the innocent souls of the dead!"

Song Jingjing stood in the center, his voice as steady as iron: "What my senior brothers and sisters say is absolutely right."

However, the enemy is in the dark while we are in the light; rashly pursuing them might lead us into a trap.

My junior brother suggested three strategies: First, inform the headmaster this morning and ask the martial arts school to write to the government.

Secondly, Senior Sister Wan'er must be extra careful when patrolling the streets;

Thirdly—"His gaze suddenly turned cold, "If you encounter a Blood Lotus Cult member, remain calm first."

Observe their strength; if you cannot inform the master in time...

If they could be captured alive and interrogated about their hideout, that would be even better.

If they resist stubbornly, kill them without mercy.

In short, one must be careful in everything. "Song Jing lightly tapped his thigh with his fingertips, a chill running through him."

As the morning light broke through the clouds, it revealed the steely calm and ruthless intensity in the boy's eyes.

Being poor cares themselves, being wealthy cares the world.

Now, he has grasped the sharp edge of the Ironclad Realm.

Within our power, we will repay blood with blood and uphold justice.