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

Chapter 140 Refining Elixir to Build Life Force, Creating Talismans to Nourish Character

It was midsummer, and the fruit trees behind the Jiang family's house were laden with ripe, shiny fruit, weighing down the branches and causing them to lean precariously.

It has a sweet and rich aroma, and even the wind seems to be intoxicated, carrying a hint of fruit wine.

Jiang Feng seemed oblivious, his steps leisurely and unhurried. With a flick of his robe, he strolled towards the old spot deep in the forest.

The crooked tree is still there, and the treehouse is still there, but the interior has changed several times over.

Now only Jiang Xi goes in to meditate and cultivate. The young girl is meticulous and keeps things tidy, so that even the window cracks are not drafty.

However, the spiritual energy of the water and wood in this area has accumulated over the years, causing a layer of bluish-green mist to rise inside the treehouse.

From a distance, the fog looked like a still pool of spring water, gently supporting the entire room.

The tables and chairs are still there in the fog, their outlines indistinct, but their true forms are nowhere to be seen.

Jiang Yi stood at a distance that was neither too close nor too far, seemingly taking a casual stroll.

He appeared calm on the surface, but his heart was pounding with anxiety, a feeling that threatened to burst forth at any moment, and he would take his men and leave.

This forest is rich in spiritual energy; it's a treasure trove that ordinary cultivators could only dream of.

But when things get this intense, it's not all good fortune.

If one's foundation is weak, daring to step in might result in being choked by the benefits before even receiving any nourishment.

Jiang Feng remained calm, ascending the steps at a steady pace, his robes fluttering in the shadows of leaves as he walked steadily.

Upon reaching the green mist, he indeed felt a tightness in his breathing, as if he were sinking into water, surrounded by a soft yet heavy pressure.

He didn't flinch, and silently took out an apricot-yellow talisman, the corner of which was still slightly creased.

He lightly twirled his fingertips and began chanting a spell.

It was as faint as the buzzing of a mosquito on a summer night; though the sound was small, it was full of energy. The words were indistinct, but it sounded like someone was greeting someone.

The talisman was unfolded and lightly affixed to his heart.

Upon first touch, the paper seemed to come alive, radiating a warm, gentle light, a thin layer, like mist yet not mist.

The originally restless spiritual energy, upon seeing the light, became as docile as a kitten that had recognized its home, lying low and obediently entering his limbs and bones without missing a single trace.

Jiang Feng then shook his sleeves, straightened his collar, loosened his stance, and lowered his body, slowly disappearing into the green mass.

Jiang Yi under the tree remained the same, his feet not moving, but his heart felt a little relieved.

The methods of the Celestial Masters sect are indeed quite effective; it's no wonder this kid has been working on this for so many years.

He didn't urge him, but simply put his hands behind his back, tilted his head slightly, as if he were leisurely enjoying the cool air.

But his ears were never idle, listening intently to what was happening over there.

The treehouse wasn't very big to begin with, and apart from the surging spiritual energy inside, it was quite empty, with only a few wisps of ink and incense ash left from meditation.

In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, after the green mist rippled twice, Jiang Feng emerged from inside.

His steps were still steady, and there was nothing unusual about his face, but there was a barely perceptible look of bewilderment in his eyes.

It's like I just wandered through the fog, saw something, but didn't bring it all back.

Jiang Yi watched all this without saying a word, but simply put his hands behind his back and led his eldest grandson deeper into the woods.

The two strolled along leisurely, picking some fruit as a pastime.

With a "snap," he casually plucked a spirit apricot, too lazy to even wipe it, and handed it over, his tone indifferent, yet seemingly unintentional:

"That talisman you used just now was quite easy to use."

Before she finished speaking, her eyes had already drifted to Jiang Feng's face.

Seeing the lingering smile on his lips, a hint of youthful smugness in his expression, I continued:

“Back then, your father told me that if you really wanted to use Qi to activate a talisman, you had to be ‘spirited and focused’ and use your mind to guide the Qi. Your approach seems to be a different one altogether.”

Jiang Feng took a bite of the apricot, and the juice burst out, perfectly sweet and sour. A smile involuntarily appeared on his lips.

“Grandpa, you’ve got it backwards. What I just used was the right method. Your method is for outsiders.”

As he spoke, he flicked his wrist, tossing the pit away. It flew in a lazy arc and landed in the grass beside him, without even disturbing the leaves.

“Disciples of our Celestial Masters sect, having received the ordination from our patriarch, are naturally protected by incense offerings.”

“With a talisman unfolded and a mantra recited, divine will arrives; why bother with such convoluted methods?”

He paused here, as if changing his tone, before continuing:

"It's not just talismans; whether it's supernatural powers or magic, many methods all rely on borrowing the power of the ancestral master. As long as the talisman is present and the mind is calm, the incense offerings will remain, and it will naturally be able to be used."

Jiang Yi listened from the side, twirling his beard, and nodded, a subtle, enigmatic smile playing on his lips.
"Borrowed power?"

His tone suggested a mixture of understanding and misunderstanding, yet it carried a hint of teasing, like a joke or a test.

"So, when you're cultivating on Crane Cry Mountain, you probably spend all your time kowtowing to the patriarch?"

Jiang Feng chuckled upon hearing this, but wasn't annoyed. He picked another fruit and rubbed it on the hem of his robe.
"Even if it's just borrowing the power of the patriarch, not everyone can bear it."

As he spoke, he glanced up at the sunlight filtering through the trees, his expression becoming slightly more composed.

"If you are a hollow reed tube, no matter how loud the wind blows, it will only produce an empty sound."

"What is taught on the mountain is ultimately the fundamental cultivation of both body and mind."

He paused for a moment, as if he had been thinking about it carefully.

"However, the methods on the mountain are somewhat different from what I was taught at home."

"On the mountain, one cultivates one's life force by refining elixirs to nourish oneself; cultivating one's nature involves making talismans to calm the mind and nurture one's character. The more elixirs one refines, the stronger one's essence, energy, and spirit become; the longer one draws talismans, the more settled one's mind becomes."

As soon as he finished speaking, the light in the young man's eyes became uncontrollable, and the corners of his lips unconsciously turned up, revealing a hint of smugness in his expression.

"When your grandson was at home, you laid a solid foundation, plus the way he breathes..."

With a change in tone, his voice rose half an inch:

"Even if we follow the traditional methods of alchemy and life cultivation, none of my fellow disciples on the mountain can catch up with me!"

Seeing that he was so pleased with himself, Jiang Yi also showed a relieved smile on his face.

After picking another bag of spiritual fruits, the grandfather and grandson leisurely strolled back to the front yard.

As soon as the door was pushed open, a wave of heat hit my face, and the aroma of food carried a hint of medicinal fragrance.

Liu Xiulian had already finished tidying up, and several plates of refreshing side dishes were placed on the table.

The old earthenware pot on the stove was bubbling away, simmering an old, healthy chicken inside.

The aroma of meat mingled with the fragrance of herbs, and carried a touch of refreshing sweetness, filling the entire room with a warm and cozy feeling.

Jiang Feng was relaxed at home, leaning against the table, talking about the new things on Heming Mountain.

Some senior uncle made a mistake while refining pills, causing a huge explosion that filled the room with smoke and even burned off half of his beard;
Then she mentioned the senior sister who raised white cranes. She finally managed to raise a bird named Qingling, but it stole a few red fruits from the back mountain, got drunk, and lay swaying in the bamboo forest with its wings drooping for three days.

The two younger siblings giggled as they listened, and even Liu Xiulian couldn't help but purse her lips and shake her head.

The room was filled with laughter and hot soup, as if the night itself had been softened by the warmth of the cooking. The lamplight flickered on the window paper, and the atmosphere was warm and inviting.

As night deepened, the pot of chicken soup was finally uncovered, releasing a fragrant aroma and a burst of steam. Just as the soup was ladled out, Jiang Ming strolled back from the back hill.

Before he even arrived, he carried a hint of nighttime air with his unsteady steps, indifferent expression, and a damp corner of his robe, as if he had just emerged from the forest carrying starlight.

Jiang Feng quickly stood up to greet him.

Jiang Ming's eyes lit up slightly, but he didn't keep a straight face. He simply hummed in response, accepting the gift.

His expression remained calm, and he spoke a few words about cultivation, maintaining the demeanor of an elder.

Jiang Feng answered each question clearly and steadily, which made the old man nod slightly, as if he reluctantly accepted his progress.

The food was laid out, but he didn't linger. He only picked up two bites of vegetables and ate half a bowl of rice before turning around and going inside.

As soon as the door closed, the heat seemed to be blocked outside, and the originally warm room instantly cooled down a bit, creating a faint silence.

Jiang Xi always doted on this eldest nephew. Seeing that he looked slightly dazed, she smiled and put a chicken leg on his plate, then casually moved her chopsticks aside to smooth things over.

"Your uncle has been buried in books lately. He may be a bit lonely, but don't take it to heart."

Jiang Feng smiled and obediently replied, "I know."

That night, I ate well and slept soundly, experiencing a long-lost sense of peace.

Though the words were kind, the road was long, and ultimately, one could not linger.

The next day, just as dawn was breaking and the fog at the village entrance had not yet lifted, Jiang Feng got up, straightened his clothes, and said goodbye to his family one by one.

Just then, the door to Jiang Ming's room creaked open.

He walked slowly, his expression remaining calm, as if the chill of the night still lingered on his body.

He simply had a stack of papers in his hand, covered with dense writing, the ink still fresh.

"Come."

He called out softly and handed over the stack of papers.

His tone was quite ordinary, the same old tune: "I flipped through a few old books the other day and copied down a few prescriptions. Whether you can use them or not is up to you."

He spoke softly, but paused at the end, as if he hesitated for a moment, before finally adding:
"Don't show it to outsiders easily."

Although Jiang Feng has been practicing cultivation in the mountains all these years, he has never stopped receiving letters from home.

He was well aware that the prescription his uncle had passed down to his mother that year had become legendary.

Although he remained silent, his heart was already stirred with emotion, and his expression became even more composed.

He took the paper with both hands, bowed slightly, and lowered his voice:
"Thank you, Uncle Xie."

The sky was already bright, the fog had retreated behind the forest, and the morning light spread across the ground, carrying a faint golden hue and a hint of blue.

He didn't linger any longer and bid farewell to everyone in the room.

Although the words were simple, the etiquette was impeccable.

Once outside the village, he took out two light blue talismans from his pocket, chanted a few incantations, lowered his body, and gently tapped his heels with his fingertips.

With a soft "whoosh," a figure rose from the ground, enveloped in talismanic light, and flew far away in the blink of an eye.

The chickens and dogs were all silent, and the grass by the roadside was still swaying gently.

That figure had long been swallowed up by the sunlight and disappeared into the distance, leaving only a motionless black dot.

The two pale blue talismans at Jiang Feng's feet were nothing special; they were common methods used by Taoists to travel, called "Divine Travel Talismans."

With the talisman activated, it was as if the wind was blowing underfoot, reducing a journey of more than ten days to a single day, saving manpower and adding a touch of elegance.

His figure trailed a wisp of green smoke along the official road, with trees and houses flying past in the distance. If you watched for too long, it would feel like you were running through a painting, making you dizzy and disoriented.

Jiang Feng simply closed his eyes halfway, relying solely on his breath to guide him, while his mind was already immersed in the few newly acquired pill formulas in his pocket.

The paper is old, but the ink is fresh. Carefully discerning each flavor is more refreshing than simply admiring the scenery.

As the sun began to set, the talismanic power beneath their feet began to recede, the green smoke dissipated, and the two talisman papers silently turned to dust, disappearing completely with a gust of wind.

Ahead, a lonely little town was bathed in twilight, and from a distance, it exuded a dusty, windy atmosphere and a pungent, pungent smell of cheap liquor.

Jiang Feng stopped, dusted off non-existent dust from his robes, and headed towards the "Welcome Guests" foot shop in town.

As soon as the door was pushed open, a wave of heat hit us, but the inside was surprisingly lively.

The hall was bustling with noise, with laborers, peddlers, and wandering knights huddled together, their coarse talk mingling with the hot soup, and a strong sense of江湖 (jianghu, the martial arts world) atmosphere hitting the nose.

Jiang Feng remained calm and collected, and with just one glance, he spotted the group from Heming Mountain in the corner.

The dozen or so fellow disciples, all dressed in the same gray-blue Taoist robes, sat quietly in a row in the least conspicuous spot in the hall.

Despite the noise around them, they seemed to be behind a curtain, unable to hear or bother to listen.

Some sat with their eyes closed in meditation, while others bowed their heads and stroked their swords, their expressions serene and their breaths deep, each forming a quiet little world of their own.

Two division commanders sat in the center.

One of them was Master Chongxu, with a snow-white beard and an ancient and simple face. He closed his eyes and tapped his knuckles lightly on the table. The rhythm was loose, but it seemed as if he was calculating the breathing of the people in the hall.

The other was Martial Aunt Lingwei, dressed in a Taoist robe and jade crown, with a slender figure, looking no more than thirty years old, and appearing to be a Taoist nun.

His expression was indifferent, like frost on a pine tree. He held a handkerchief in one hand and was carefully wiping a jade ruyi.

The ruyi was only about a foot long, its surface was warm and smooth, and its patterns were not obvious. It was a well-preserved Buddhist artifact, exuding a sense of tranquility and detachment in its stillness and movement.

Jiang Feng walked to the table, stopped, curtsied, and bowed softly:
"Disciple Jiang Feng, I'm late."

Uncle-Master Chongxu didn't even lift his eyelids, only letting out a soft "hmm" through his nose, which was considered as if he had heard it.

However, Martial Aunt Lingwei slightly raised her eyes, glanced at him, and spoke in a clear and cold voice, like a mountain spring striking a stone:

"Not too late, just in time for a cup of hot tea. Please have a seat."

Jiang Feng took his seat at the end of the table. Before he could speak, his senior brother raised his hand and poured him a cup of coarse tea.

The tea is dark in color and bitter at first taste, almost unbearably so, but once it goes down your throat, it truly cleanses you of the dust and grime that has accompanied you through your journey.

No one asked him why he was late, no one urged him on, and even their gazes were indifferent.

The wind outside continued to blow, and the cups clinked softly; everyone remained quiet.

Until the cup of tea was finished, the fingers that had been tapping intermittently on the edge of the table suddenly stopped.

Senior Uncle Chongxu slowly opened his eyes, stood up, and uttered only two words:

"gone."

The tone was flat, like the stillness before a storm.

The hall was filled with noise, but for a moment it seemed as if everyone held their breath.

Upon hearing the sound, more than ten disciples stood up in unison, their movements perfectly synchronized and without making a sound.

The group filed out, passed through the sandstorm in the street, and headed west.

What was originally a desolate place has now become a bustling place with people on the road. They are in a hurry, their robes fluttering, and they look like they are heading towards the Western Sea.

(End of this chapter)