Becoming a Saint Starting with the Chasing Wind Leg Technique

In the 299th year of the Great Qian Dynasty, the world was in chaos, and warlords carved up the land.

The central dynasty's prestige was tarnished, and regional military governors declared their own independence, leading to widespread rebellions and endless warfare.

Xiushui Village is located outside Tianshui City.

At the village entrance, a row of dilapidated houses leaned precariously like drunkards. A howling wind whipped up clouds of yellow sand, pounding against the thatched roofs and making them rustle as if they were about to be blown into the river at any moment.

In the corner, a light rain drizzled, and a thin figure huddled under the eaves, complaining, "That damn weather's gone mad again! In this awful weather, going out fishing? We'd probably die feeding the fish!"

The speaker was Lin Hou'er from the village, who was as thin as a rake, with sunken eyes, looking like a wild dog that hadn't eaten for half a month.

Recently, there have been continuous strong winds and heavy rains, and several fishing boats in the village have been capsized by huge waves, with one funeral after another taking place.

With the fishing season over and incomes collapsing, the government continues to collect taxes in full—just a few days after scraping away a layer of "autumn grain," they turn around and collect "winter taxes," layer upon layer of exploitation, squeezing the villagers dry to the bone.

"I'm completely broke..." A kind-looking, chubby man slumped on the muddy ground, his face full of sorrow. "I spent all my savings on medicine for my sixty-year-old mother. Now we can't even afford to cook, and the bottom of the rice jar is so deep you could see your reflection in it."

His name was Fatty Chen, and he was usually very honest. But now his voice trembled: "Seven or eight households couldn't pay their taxes, so they even pawned their fishing boats and nets. In the end, they had no choice but to grit their teeth and risk their lives to go out to sea... And what happened? They didn't come back, and their boats were gone too."

In the corner, a boy stood silently with a resolute look in his eyes, but his brows were furrowed.

His name is Song Jing. His eyes are calm, yet they possess a sharpness beyond his years.

He knew that without a catch of fish and with the severe drought resulting in a complete crop failure, he would not be able to raise enough money for next month's wages and tribute.

At that point, they would either be forced to go to sea and die, or be exiled to the army—either way, they would face certain death.

He shouldn't be here.

In his past life, he was Xiao Song, the "capable man who does more work" type of employee.

"Xiao Song, you young people are familiar with the new computer software, so you can handle this."

"You write the inspection report. You're a young man; you need more training."

"You'll attend the training; it will represent the department, and new employees especially need this kind of opportunity."

These kinds of words, "It's all for your own good, you're a young person, it's always good to exercise more," are constantly ringing in my ears.

He worked non-stop for six months, staying up all night became the norm, and his medical examination report was buried at the bottom of his drawer. It wasn't until he died of a heart attack that he received a light sigh from everyone: "Sigh, the company has temporarily lost a young person who can do the work. From now on, I'll have to write all the reports myself."

It's as if that world never existed; the lonely soul goes unnoticed.

"Fatty Chen, what are you afraid of!" Lin Hou'er suddenly slammed his fist on the mud wall, sending dust flying. "Isn't your sister going to marry into the Xu family in town? The Xu family runs Huichuntang, and their medicinal herb business is booming. If you marry into that family, you won't have to worry about making a living!"

He turned to look at Song Jing, his tone softening slightly: "It's good that you're here with me through thick and thin, Jing. This fat guy will be different from us from now on."

If that day ever comes, don't you dare eat your fill while we starve to death in front of you, you fatso.

Before he finished speaking, the sound of tin lanterns jingling came from the distant dock.

Everyone looked up—

He Dabiao, a low-ranking member of the Black Tiger Gang, rode a skinny horse, whipping it high and kicking up clouds of dust. Behind him, his henchmen, armed with barbed iron spikes, surrounded the moored fishing boats, making it impossible for them to pass.

A blood-red banner hung conspicuously on the mast: "Monthly allowance of one tael; failure to pay on time will result in drowning in the river."

Two dilapidated fishing boats slowly approached the shore, their hulls mottled and their decks empty.

An old man and a young boy staggered off the boat, their faces sallow and their eyes sunken, clearly having not eaten for many days.

Song Jing's pupils suddenly contracted—the old man was none other than Uncle Zhao and his son Zhao Da, who lived next door!

I watched him grow up from childhood and often gave him dried fish. A few years ago, when my father was still alive, I even lent him half a bag of brown rice in the winter.

I had heard some time ago that his family had already borrowed all their money and sold everything they could, and now they've ended up in this state.

He Dabiao sneered, "Running away? Why aren't you running anymore?" The tip of the iron skewer pressed against the old man's Adam's apple. "You're still short five hundred coins. Can't you come up with it?"

The old man trembled as he took out the copper coin wrapped in coarse cloth.

He Dabiao glanced at it, scoffed, and said, "That's all the money I have." Then he made a slash with the metal skewer—

Blood gushed out!

The old man clutched his throat, staggered to the ground, and let out a bloodcurdling scream before being kicked into the river, instantly turning the water red.

The young fisherman was terrified when he saw this and turned to flee.

But after running only ten steps, an iron spear came flying through the air, piercing his back and pinning him to the mud. His limbs twitched, and he fell silent.

He Dabiao drew his gun, surveyed the villagers, and said in a voice as cold as iron, "The Black Tiger Gang keeps its word, collects money on time, and treats everyone fairly. You—you must also abide by the rules!"

He pointed to the blood-red words on the banner: "Those who violate this will face the consequences you have seen."

The sound of horses' hooves faded into the distance, but the stench of blood and the murderous aura lingered.

The two men under the thatched hut were covered in cold sweat and nearly lost their composure, while Song Jing remained calm and motionless.

Lin Hou'er trembled violently, repeatedly muttering to himself, "I'm alright... I'm alright..."

Fatty Chen's face was deathly pale, and he could barely stand, his legs trembling.

They grew up together, almost like brothers, sharing the same riverbank and the same bowl of thin porridge. Their fishing depended on the weather; one day one would have an empty net, the next day another would have a bountiful harvest. They helped each other to barely survive until today.

But now, even the right to live has to be bought with money.

The villagers gathered around, silently collecting the body and whispering among themselves:

"The Black Tiger Gang, those damned devils!"

"Keep your voice down! If word gets out, your whole family will be executed!"

"Let's fight! We're going to die sooner or later anyway!"

No one dared to speak out loud.

Because He Dabiao is incredibly powerful—he has already reached the Lesser Completion stage of the Skin Forging Realm.

The Skin Forging Realm is divided into three stages: Minor Success, Major Success, and Perfection.

These correspond to the first three realms: the cowhide realm, the iron-skinned realm, and the copper-skinned realm.

Those who have achieved a minor level of mastery have skin as tough as cowhide; ordinary people's fists and feet cannot harm them in the slightest, and they are stronger than ten people.

With dozens of armed henchmen under his command, any resistance from the villagers would be tantamount to throwing eggs against rocks.

What's even more terrifying is that the Black Tiger Gang leader had just gotten close to the county government, and the two deputy gang leaders were notorious leatherworkers who had been infamous for many years.

It was precisely because of these abilities that He Dabiao was able to run rampant in the village, bullying men and women.

The villagers are suffering terribly. Those who once resisted are now drowned at the bottom of the river, turned into fish fat, and nothing remains.

Nowadays, even breathing in Xiushui Village requires them to be mindful of the thugs' attitudes.

Song Jing felt a surge of anger and helplessness. He remained motionless, head bowed in deep thought, silent.

I thought that time travel was a case of "surviving a great calamity and being blessed with good fortune."

Who knew that it was an uncertain death from a past life that led to a certain death in the present?

The three of them made a quiet agreement: if any of them couldn't pay, they would help each other out.

But Song Jing knew perfectly well that Lin Hou'er and Chen Pangzi were in dire straits themselves.

Perhaps the only hope lies with the eldest brother.

But the eldest brother's life wasn't easy either.

Only by relying on oneself is one truly reliable. Outsiders can mostly only add to one's success, while those who offer help in times of need are already extremely valuable.

The family's finances were entirely managed by his sister-in-law, Wang. That woman was sharp-tongued and mean, and had long disliked him.

He was ridiculed by Wang Shi simply because his elder brother secretly provided him with some food during festivals.

But recently, Wang's younger brother joined the martial arts school and actually broke through the Minor Completion of the Skin Forging Realm to the Bull Skin Realm!

The whole village was in an uproar!

Taxes were reduced by 50%, and gang offerings were waived. Everyone looked on with envy, treating them like government officials.

From then on, Wang was able to hold her head high and had the final say in the family, while her eldest brother had to rely on her from then on.

If he could break through, his older brother wouldn't have to live such a humble life.

Thinking of this, Song Jing smiled bitterly, realizing he could barely protect himself.

Did I think I was living the ultimate life of a novel's protagonist?

Unfortunately, the author is Yu Hua—suffering piles up layer upon layer, and hope is shattered inch by inch.

As night deepened, he dragged his weary body home.

I pushed open the creaking, dilapidated door, just as I was about to blow out the light.

The night was far from peaceful; outside the window, the rain poured down relentlessly, the rapid patter of the rain never ceasing.

Song Jing lay on the hard bed, his mind unsettled, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. The terrible scene from earlier that day was still vivid in his mind, unforgettable.

His fingernails dug deep into his palms, forcing himself to etch every detail into his mind: the angle at which He Dabiao struck, the length of the iron skewer, the blind spots where the henchmen stood, the location where the body was submerged in the river...

This is not indiscriminate killing, but establishing authority.

If I kill Uncle Zhao today, I might kill Fatty Chen tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow... it could be me.

He suddenly remembered an ancient saying he had read in his previous life: "If the lips are gone, the teeth will be cold."

With Zhao Bo dead, no one dared to resist anymore; with Zhao Da dead, no one dared to escape. The whole village became sheep waiting to be slaughtered.

A chill ran down my spine and straight to the top of my head—not because I was afraid of dying, but because I had seen through this intractable deadly situation.

Suddenly, a cuckoo's mournful cry was heard outside the window, as plaintive as weeping.

In an instant—

A panel radiating golden light appeared before my eyes:

[Heaven rewards diligence] - Diligence can make up for lack of talent, and hard work can defy the heavens!

Song Jing's pupils contracted sharply, and his heart pounded like a drum. Wasn't this the kind of cheat system he often saw in his previous life? It felt quite familiar.

The mountains and rivers seem to block the way, but then a village appears amidst the willows and flowers!

Clearly visible below the panel:

[Character] Song Jing

[Realm Progress] Leather Forging Beginner - No Realm (0/100)

[Cultivation Progress] None

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.

The pain feels real.

Hope, and reality.

This time, he himself must take control of the pen of fate.