Becoming a Saint Starting with the Chasing Wind Leg Technique

Song Jing bid farewell to Zhou Xingyun and returned home along the familiar mountain path.

The night breeze caressed his face, the leaves rustled in the trees, and he walked lightly and steadily, as if treading on thin ice.

He never wanted to be ostentatious; his true killing move was always hidden in its sheath. When it was unleashed, it was sure to draw blood and kill.

On the way back, the night was hazy and Song Jing's thoughts were churning. He closed his eyes and looked inward, his blood and qi surging like a stream through his meridians, his bones creaking slightly, and the skin on his palms hardened like iron, faintly gleaming with a pale bronze luster.

He finally clearly defined himself:

Defense: Like a suit of cowhide armor, it's impervious to ordinary punches and kicks. But against a martial artist, this alone is insufficient. A martial artist's strength far surpasses that of ordinary people; a single punch can shatter stone, a single kick can break a pillar. Ordinary defenses are nothing but thin paper before them. Only a martial artist's fist can break through a martial artist's defense.

Speed: Among martial artists of the first realm. His evasive maneuvers are as light as a breeze, his footwork is agile, and he has already begun to embody the essence of the "Chasing Wind Leg Technique." Among those of the same realm, if he were to unleash his full power, even ten people attacking him would find it difficult to get close.

Combat strength: As Senior Brother Ju said, he can easily defeat He Dabiao back then, a kind of "low-level martial artist" - someone who has a realm but no skill, and only brute strength.

Such a person is getting old, his qi and blood are mixed and declining, his movements are sluggish and full of flaws. It is estimated that his limbs can be crippled within thirty moves.

Weaknesses: He has not yet mastered other supporting techniques, his explosive power is insufficient, he lacks real experience in life-or-death combat, and his control over the rhythm of prolonged battles still needs to be honed.

But all of this is enough for him to establish himself!

He's not here to be a decorative figure; he's here to survive, become stronger, and defy fate!

But if one wants to truly establish oneself, or even defy fate, then...

We also need offensive tactics to greatly improve our combat power. We can kill people invisibly, cleanly and efficiently, without leaving a trace, or we can escape by virtue of our speed advantage and fight again another day.

That afternoon, the sun was blazing.

Song Jing arrived at the iron sand pit as usual, slowly inserting his palms into the scalding iron sand. Smoke rose, his skin and flesh were scorched, and the pain was like needles piercing his bones. However, he remained calm, his breathing was steady, and his blood and qi gathered in his palms, constantly tempering his skin and fascia.

In the distance, Li Wei led Zhang Wu and the others slowly towards them.

"This person is indeed diligent," Li Wei said casually, "but unfortunately, no matter how diligent he is, he can't reach a high level of sophistication."

Ever since he was rejected in person last time, Zhang Wu has become increasingly displeased with Song Jing.

He stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on Song Jing, a hint of disdain flashing in his eyes, followed by a calculating glint.

There's really no way to deal with him within the martial arts school right now, otherwise it would ruin our grand plan.

If we recruit him into the Zhang family, we can easily find a reason to send him out of the city, and then deal with him haphazardly, turning him into a medicine man.

So he slowly stepped forward, his tone condescending and condescending: "Now that you are a formal martial artist, junior brother, there may have been some unpleasantness in the past, but we can wipe the slate clean."

"Senior brother, you're short of men right now. Why don't you join my Zhang family and become a retainer? The Zhang family will pay ten taels of silver a month, including room and board, and a constant supply of pills. Wouldn't that be better than suffering in this dilapidated martial arts school?"

Given my junior brother's current physical constitution, he must be severely lacking in cultivation resources.

Song Jing slowly withdrew his palms, the iron filings sliding off with a soft rustling sound, the bronze light in his palms still lingering. He turned around, a gentle smile on his face: "Senior brother has many experts under his command. Firstly, I am dull-witted, and secondly, I am used to a life of leisure. I'm afraid that if I went there, I would just be a figurehead and hinder senior brother's important matters."

Zhang Wu frowned, his tone slightly somber: "Junior Brother, why do you repeatedly refuse my earnest attempts to recruit you? Is it because you don't have enough money? Then... how about adding two more taels, making it twelve taels?"

Seeing that Song Jing remained unmoved, his voice grew colder: "Junior brother, you shouldn't be too greedy."

Song Jing cupped his hands in greeting, still smiling humbly: "Senior brother has given more than enough; it's really not about the money. It's just that I'm lazy and don't like to be bound by anything. Thank you for your kindness, senior brother."

Zhang Wu's face was ashen, he snorted coldly, and turned and left.

Li Wei glanced at Song Jing and said in a low voice, "He doesn't know what's good for him."

After they had gone far away, Song Jing plunged his palms back into the iron sand. Smoke rose again, and his skin glowed with a faint coppery light, feeling as hot as a spring breeze.

His eyes were calm, but his heart was as still as a deep well.

He knew that this time it was Zhang Wu who personally recruited him, unlike the likes of Sun Li and Liu Jiankun.

This refusal has completely offended Zhang Wu.

But this is just the price that must be paid on the road to becoming stronger. At least until the battle for the master of the hall is decided, Zhang Wu cannot touch him in the slightest.

In the distance, Sun Li hid behind a tree, his eyes gleaming.

He recalled that night when Iron Head of the Black Tiger Gang was killed suddenly on the mountain path, his throat bones shattered, his death bizarre. He had passed by at the time and only smelled a burnt odor, like the fumes of burning iron filings.

Could it really be Song Jing?

But then I thought about it again. The other party didn't even attend the banquet at Juxian Pavilion. He continued his ascetic practices every day, and only ate one meal a day. He lived a life worse than a beggar.

"Impossible..." He shook his head. "If I had that ability, I would have been able to hold my head high long ago. Why have I been so patient until now?"

Let those insults and rumors spread everywhere!

Moreover, I have the ability to break through; if it were me, I would never tolerate it!

But he didn't realize that it was precisely through forbearance that his true brilliance was revealed.

Unbeknownst to anyone, this silent young man already held the blade to slay tigers.

In the stillness of the night, Song Jing sat cross-legged in the courtyard.

The moonlight shone down, illuminating his bare upper body, making it seem as if copper was flowing beneath his skin, and with each heartbeat, his muscles and bones became more solid.

He practiced continuously, almost without stopping, his qi and blood flowing between his skin membranes, producing a faint "crackling" sound, like a snake shedding its skin.

He doesn't need this kind of noisy approval.

What he wants is to be able to clench his fist tightly when the storm comes, and strike a fatal blow that no one can stop!

The night was as dark as ink. To resolve his doubts, Zhou Xingyun invited Song Jing to the pavilion on the back mountain.

Under the moonlight, he stood with his hands behind his back, feigning a gloomy expression that seemed to drip with water.

"Song Jing," he said in a low voice, "that night...did you do it?"

Song Jing's heart skipped a beat, but his expression remained unchanged: "What did you say, Senior Brother?"

"Stop pretending!" Zhou Xingyun whirled around, his eyes blazing with fury. "Iron Head and Vajra—two of the Black Tiger Gang's top henchmen, lying in wait on the mountain path in the middle of the night, their methods clean and efficient, taking only valuables and harming no innocents… Who else could it be but you with the motive and the ability?!"

He stepped forward, lowered his voice, and said with a hint of grievance, "You've really put me in a difficult position! Qiu Daxuan, the vice leader of the Black Tiger Gang, is convinced that I secretly sent people to attack me. The day before yesterday, he even sent people to ambush me at the dock, sticking to me for two days straight, demanding an explanation!"

After a moment of silence, Song Jing, trusting his senior brother, finally nodded slowly: "...It's me."

I admit I was wrong, but if I had the chance again, I would still do the same thing and kill those two beasts.

As for the rumors that followed, I did not intend to spread them.

"I hope my senior brother wasn't seriously injured in this mess!"

"You still know how to admit it!" Zhou Xingyun feigned anger, but the next moment, the corners of his mouth couldn't help but turn up. He suddenly slapped Song Jing on the shoulder with such force that the boy staggered half a step.

"Good lad!" The anger in his eyes vanished, replaced by admiration. "Well done! Those two beasts deserved to die long ago! Harassing women, bullying the villagers, and even daring to lay a hand on the Lin family—if you hadn't struck first, I would have made them disappear sooner or later!"

His tone softened: "I know why you didn't say it—you had just broken through to the next realm, and you were unknown and powerless. If you had exposed your strength, the Black Tiger Gang would have retaliated with all their might."

But I'm not in town, so there's no one to protect you.

Your choice to remain patient is not only wise, but also shows your sense of responsibility.

Secondly, what can the Black Tiger Gang do to me? My senior brother will naturally be fine.

He gazed into Song Jing's eyes and solemnly said, "To hear thunder in silence, to uphold justice in dire straits. To dare to kill is courage, to slay the wicked is benevolence; to possess both courage and benevolence—this is the true heart of a martial artist!"

Song Jing felt a warmth in his heart and said softly, "Thank you for your understanding, Senior Brother. You flatter me."

"Understand?" Zhou Xingyun laughed. "I admire you! Junior brother, you are so young, yet you have both wisdom and courage, and most importantly, you have a righteous heart!"

This is what my senior brother values ​​most!

From this day forward, we are not only fellow disciples, but also brothers!

He took out a small jade talisman from his pocket, with the character "锦" (jin) engraved on it, and stuffed it into Song Jing's hand: "I obtained this jade talisman by chance in the prefectural city. It can ensure safety and also signifies a bright future. I'm giving it to you, junior brother."

Song Jing gripped the jade talisman tightly, its warmth seeping into his bones.

He knew that in the heart of this prodigy, he was no longer a "junior brother who needed to be taken care of," but a comrade-in-arms worthy of being entrusted with his back and fighting side by side.