Journey to the West: The Immortal Clan Begins by Feeding Monkeys at Five Elements Mountain

Chapter 100 Going with the Flow, the Way of Slaughter

Before Jiang Ming could even put down his teacup, he casually asked another question.

The tone was neither harsh nor probing, just like casual conversation after a meal:

"Having spent time in the army, you've certainly endured some hardship. Now that you've witnessed firsthand what battle is truly like, do you have any thoughts of taking a different path?"

Jiang Liang listened, only smiling faintly, his expression indifferent, showing no sign of emotion.
"The first few days were really tough. We had cold food and water, and we had to take turns on guard duty at night. We were always carrying a knife, and we couldn't even sleep soundly."

He changed the subject, his voice becoming a bit deeper: "But as long as you're willing to put in the effort and risk your life, you can make something of yourself."

"Instead, let's read books..."

He chuckled as he said this, a hint of teasing in his eyes, "I can't compare to you guys. When will I ever be able to get a wife?"

His tone was relaxed, but his words revealed a stubborn streak.

Jiang Ming listened, his gaze lingered slightly, and he didn't speak immediately.

After a long while, he slowly nodded, as if in agreement, or perhaps in a state of weighing his options.

Then he continued:
"The appearance of the spirit is not a gimmick to be displayed. It arises as your heart leads you."

"If you go against the grain, you'll almost always fail halfway; only by going with the grain can you feel secure."

He paused, then lowered his voice:
"The sliver of blood you see now may not be a disaster. If you follow the natural order and pursue the path of battle and slaughter, it will be more in line with your plans, allowing you to move steadily and quickly."

Jiang Liang listened attentively, nodded, and a glint of light flickered in his eyes.

Jiang Ming raised his chin and casually pointed to the open space in the courtyard:
"Show me the staff technique I taught you again."

Jiang Liang responded, got up, walked to the corner of the room, and picked up the heavy, dark old stick.

With a flick of the wrist, a slight increase in breath, and a firm stance, he assumed a ready stance.

The stick rose and the wind blew, striking out one move after another.

This set of staff techniques was personally taught by Jiang Ming. It emphasizes balance, harmony, and smooth flow of Qi, nourishing both muscles and bones as well as cultivating mental strength. It is used primarily for building a foundation.

But today, when it came to Jiang Liang, things took a different turn.

The stick's shadow remained intact, and the stance was unchanged, but the footwork had become more ruthless, and the attacks were less restrained.

After finishing the routine, Jiang Ming didn't rush to speak. A glint flashed in his eyes before he nodded.
"Your moves are good, and your energy is good too. It's clear you've put in the effort."

His tone didn't rise too high, and then he changed the subject, his voice softening slightly:
"only……"

He continued softly, "This method, in essence, is for nourishing the body and protecting life. It emphasizes regulating qi and maintaining balance, finding stillness within movement."

“Now that your soul has left the body, that path… may not be able to traverse such a peaceful energy path.”

"If you really want to step into the path of battle and slaughter, this set of staff techniques alone is probably not enough to match your spirit."

As he spoke, he flicked his finger, picked up a plain wooden stick from the wall, and with a light step, floated into the courtyard.

Without shouts or boastful gestures, a new set of stick techniques arose naturally.

The initial stance was the same as before, upright and controlled, but as the game progressed, the energy changed.

His breath was deep and calm, but no longer gentle.

In his moves, his joints twist slightly, his strength is hidden yet revealed, and there is an undisguised sharpness between the turns.

It was like an ambush in the forest, or a fatal kill on horseback.

There was no deliberate attempt to portray any "fierce and awe-inspiring" aura.

But when that stick was struck, even the hunting dogs huddled under the eaves gnawing on chicken bones fell silent.

Jiang Yi glanced at his eldest son's stick technique and immediately understood what he was doing.

No wonder he spent most of the day there; he was honing his murderous aura behind the mountain.

Jiang Liang watched intently from the side, his eyes gleaming several times.

Every now and then, I would try to move my hands and feet a couple of times, trying to capture that feeling.

But the stick in his hands was still not quite there yet.

The muscles and bones have developed, but the Qi is still floating and hasn't penetrated into the bone marrow.

Jiang Ming withdrew his stance, his long staff twirling before silently striking the ground, as if he had stepped away from the battlefield and returned to the courtyard. He turned around, his tone unhurried, as if casually reciting words from an old book:
"The staff is the ancestor of all weapons, with its sinews and bones upright, concealing its blade without revealing it."

"If you practice diligently, you can adapt to any weapon, such as spear, halberd, lance, or fork. The real skill is to be able to use whatever you have on the battlefield."

Jiang Liang wiped his sweat, nodded repeatedly, and agreed.

His eyes were still fixed on the staff technique he had just used, as if he hadn't recovered from the killing move.

Seeing his expression, Jiang Ming simply leaned the wooden stick against the wall and changed his tone:
"If you really want to learn this path, you can."

"But you have to follow the rules first. Starting tomorrow, you have to study with me before dawn. Once you've mastered the books, I'll teach you how to use the stick at night."

Jiang Liang was taken aback, his eyes twitched, and his face seemed to say, "What's the connection between these two things?"

But she didn't dare to actually ask, only glancing at it in her eyes.

Jiang Ming noticed his confusion but didn't offer much explanation, simply saying:

"Just do as I say. In the art of killing, it's not just about how ruthless you are, but also about whether you can withstand the pressure."

"If the mind is not at peace and the understanding is not clear, killing too much will only backfire."

After saying that, he raised his hand and patted his younger brother's shoulder. His tone was as light as a casual remark, but the pat was very steady.

As night deepened, only the faint chirping of insects remained in the courtyard.

The family dispersed and went back to their respective rooms, but Jiang Yi remained sitting on the porch, not moving an inch.

Only when Jiang Ming's footsteps sounded from the other end of the corridor did Jiang Yi raise his eyes, his voice not loud, but steady as he called out to him:
"Is there really no problem with your brother's situation?"

This sound was plain, but it carried a hint of leisure.

Jiang Yi wasn't as stubborn as a child.

He was aware of the saying that "one must study in order to practice martial arts."

If one truly follows the natural order of things, why would one need to detour through reading to slow down the path of bloodshed, spirits, and slaughter?
Upon hearing this, Jiang Ming paused slightly, and the smile on his face faded a bit.

Knowing his father was always sharp-eyed and meticulous, and that he couldn't hide anything from him, he stopped beating around the bush and simply stood in the corridor, saying calmly:

"A path of bloodshed is indeed a fast one. The force of killing easily stimulates the blood and qi and condenses the soul."

"If things go smoothly, success is not difficult."

He paused here, his eyes darkening, and his tone softening:
"But that's precisely why I'm afraid of moving too fast, with my mind still hanging on the back."

"If the killing intent cannot be suppressed, and they go to the battlefield a few more times... sooner or later they will turn around and bite back."

"At best, his temperament will change drastically, and he will kill without realizing it; at worst, he may... go mad."

He spoke softly and steadily, as if he were talking about someone else's business, but the worry in his eyes could not be hidden.

He paused slightly, lowering his voice.

"Fortunately, my mind is calm and my consciousness is not disordered, so I will be fine for a short time."

"But in the end, we can't expect him to suddenly realize this on his own."

His tone was gentle, as if he were speaking to his father, or perhaps to himself:

"So I thought, let him read more books, firstly to calm his mind, secondly to temper his character, and thirdly... to gradually rein in that impetuousness."

"If we can seize this opportunity to guide him into a state of 'settled mind,' then bloodshed and murderous intent will be nothing more than weapons in his hands, no longer demons in his heart."

He let out a soft breath, his tone still indifferent:
"If it doesn't work out... there's still plenty of time. We can take it one step at a time; there are always other paths to take."

Jiang Yi listened and simply nodded without saying a word.

A breeze blows through the corridor, causing the bamboo shadows to sway gently, and the moonlight casts a faint shadow on the window paper.

He sat quietly for a moment before getting up, returning to his room, and closing the door behind him.

He sat cross-legged back on the couch, his robes settled, his eyes slowly closed, and he regulated his breathing to enter a meditative state.

That ethereal scripture seemed to rise from my heart, floating and sinking, flowing endlessly.

(End of this chapter)