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

Chapter 141 Waves of the Western Sea, Woman in White

Leaving that isolated town and heading west, the sea breeze became increasingly salty and pungent, feeling like being slashed across the face with a knife.

There was an indescribable smell in the wind.

There was a human presence, a demonic stench, and a sickeningly sweet, putrid stench, like rotten fruit soaking in seawater; a single breath sent the sensation straight to the brain.

The waves roared like beasts, slamming angrily against the shore rocks, shaking the entire shoreline.

Looking further ahead, the scene became rather unbearable to look at.

People from all walks of life, speaking in all sorts of accents, including some strange-looking monsters with upturned nostrils, also set up camp on the mudflats.

Some carried shovels, others had spells hidden in their sleeves, and they all squatted in the mud, digging and shoveling. Their postures were quite devout, but they looked like vultures pecking at corpses.

Occasionally, someone would unearth a piece of coral that shimmered with spiritual light, or a broken half of a magical artifact, immediately causing a stir.

Suddenly, all eyes lit up, as bright as knives and as sticky as flies.

If anyone is a step too slow, that treasure will probably be ripped off along with its fingers, leaving not even a bone fragment.

The group of people walked through the area, minding their own business, amidst the bustling noise all around, with only the distant chirping of cicadas in their ears.

Uncle-Master Chongxu walked at the front, his expression indifferent, his eyes fixed straight ahead, and he simply uttered a sentence in the wind: "Scatter and take a look."

The voice was not loud, but it clearly reached the ears of every disciple.

The crowd responded and scattered into the mudflats and rocks in twos and threes, their figures like fleeting shadows in the tide, disappearing in a flash.

Jiang Feng continued to travel alone, choosing the most secluded spot.

As he descended the mountain, he already had some vague guesses in his mind, but he couldn't quite put his finger on them. He only felt that the atmosphere on this trip was more "heavy" than ever before.

The coastline is rugged with reefs, and when the wind blows, only a few clumps of seaweed tremble, carrying a fishy smell.

He circled around a black reef about half a person's height, pausing slightly in his steps.

A fish carcass, about a foot long, lay lying on the edge of a puddle.

Its body was covered in fine silver scales, it had two horns on its head, and four claws on its belly. Although it had no breath, it still carried a wisp of lingering spiritual light.

It was none other than the "dragon fish" recorded in ancient texts, which failed to transform into a dragon while swimming in the river.

This creature should have remained hidden in the deep sea, never showing itself, and certainly shouldn't have died in such shallow mudflats.

But now, it just lies there stiffly, its fish eyes wide open, revealing a hollow gray-white.

It wasn't the fear of dying, it was more like... being drained of all life force.

Jiang Feng's gaze narrowed slightly.

The fish's body was unharmed, without any cuts or lacerations, not even a single scale or claw was out of place; it was just flattened and stuck to the skeleton, like dried paper.

The flesh, blood, and soul seemed to have been completely sucked away in one breath.

Not far away, several fellow disciples who had rushed over upon hearing the commotion also stopped and stared at the pile of things, speechless for a moment.

The sound of the tide rolling in.

One of the senior brothers gasped and whispered, "This technique... is not something an ordinary demon would use."

Some people frowned, some people narrowed their eyes, and all of them showed a slight change in expression.

Before I could explain further, my Uncle Lingwei had already quietly arrived.

She glanced at it indifferently, her eyes, already covered with a layer of frost, now grew even colder, as if covered with frost upon frost.

Without saying a word, she slightly raised her slender fingers, and a small flame of gold and purple ignited at her fingertips.

She flicked her fingers lightly.

The sparks landed on the fish carcass, but there was no smell of burning.

The shriveled, lifeless thing, with a very soft hiss, turned into a pinch of glassy ash.

When the sea breeze blows, all the ash is gone without a trace, even the deathly aura is blown away completely.

After doing all this, she stopped, took out the plain handkerchief, and gently wiped her fingertips.

A phrase murmured to his lips, seemingly "Rebirth...in the Pure Land..."

The sound was as faint as dust, disappearing without a trace in the wind.

Jiang Feng lowered his eyes, gazing at the empty, pristine sandy ground, yet his heart was slightly troubled.

Throughout the entire trip, the instructors ignored the dazzling "treasures" on the beach.

He finally understood something.

This mission is probably no ordinary experience.

What they are looking for may not be spiritual objects or divine materials.

Before the ashes of the dragonfish had completely dissipated, Uncle Lingwei had already turned and left, his sleeves fluttering so that not a speck of dust touched him.

The others followed in silence, without saying a word.

Back on the mudflats, the sea wind still roared as before.

Uncle Lingwei suddenly stopped, his eyes shifted slightly, and he casually pointed forward.

"There."

She was referring to a sand dune in front of her, neither too high nor too low, with a slightly elevated position that offered a panoramic view of the sea.

Before the words were even finished, the disciples had already set off.

No hoes or axes, no bricks or stones.

A few black array flags were gently inserted into the sand, yet they seemed to vanish into nothingness, without causing the slightest ripple.

A few yellow talismans were casually tossed aside. After circling in the air a few times, they seemed to gain sentience, finding their own direction and disappearing into the void without a trace.

In the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, a world quietly takes shape.

The sound of the tide was still constant outside, and the noise of people was deafening.

But once you step into that circle, it's like entering another world.

The heatwave subsided, the noise subsided, and even the salty, fishy wind seemed to be filtered through a veil, leaving only a few distant sounds of the tide, like something out of a dream.

Uncle Lingwei took out a jade slip from his sleeve and casually tapped it on the sand.

A ray of jade light parted, revealing the outline of a courtyard and hallways on the ground. She then picked up her brush and lightly wrote a line:

Tingchao Xiaozhu (Listening to the Tide Cottage)

The handwriting is sparse yet elegant, with a subtle sharpness hidden within its refined style.

Once those four characters were formed, it was as if such a place had truly come into being between heaven and earth.

This is the way Taoists behave.

Even amidst the turbulent waves of the mundane world, one must carve out a tranquil corner.

Once everything was settled, Martial Uncle Lingwei's gaze fell upon Jiang Feng, lingering briefly on him.

"We're still lacking in clean water and food."

Her voice was soft, like the wind blowing through bamboo leaves, sounding utterly indifferent and devoid of any warmth or human touch.

"Go and visit the market town at the foot of the mountain."

Jiang Feng already understood in his heart, but he only responded with a faint "yes" before turning and leaving with steady steps.

The word "purchasing" sounds ordinary and casual, but who doesn't know that what he's really being asked to do is to listen and look?

The market town at the foot of the mountain was quite lively. Although it was called a market, it was more like a makeshift stage put together by hand. The sheds were crooked and haphazardly erected, the cloth curtains were shiny and slippery, and the shelves trembled in the wind.

There were quite a few people.

A mix of all sorts of people, a blend of demonic and human odors, the stench of sweat and alcohol, a salty and pungent smell with a faint hint of blood, making one's head throb – it was quite a unique flavor.

Jiang Feng wandered around the crowd for a while before settling down at a tea stall in a corner.

The tea is of inferior quality; the leaves turn yellow when brewed, and one sip is both scalding hot and astringent.

He drank slowly and leisurely, his eyes lowered, his expression languid, as if he were truly just taking a break.

The tea stall was bustling with people, their footsteps a jumble of noise, but his ears were perfectly attuned. He could hear even the faintest whispers from three feet away.

Purchasing was a pretense; their real purpose was to gather information.

"The storm has been raging for more than half a year, and countless treasures and sea beasts have been washed ashore, but why is there not a single sound from the West Sea Dragon Palace?"

The conversation drifted in from the side, the voice rough like tearing cloth, carrying the smell of alcohol and salt.

The one who spoke was a burly man with a fierce face. When he opened his mouth, spittle flew everywhere, even causing the tea to spill over the rim of the bowl.
"The Dragon Palace? It can't even take care of itself. I heard that the Third Prince of the West Sea, Ao Lie, disappeared a few years ago, and hasn't even made a ripple since. I'm afraid something terrible has happened."

"Shh... keep your voice down!"

The man next to him quickly elbowed him, his voice low, but his eyes gleamed.
"That's true... but in the end, the more chaotic the Western Sea is, the more profit we can make."

"Since we're not going into the sea, anything that washes ashore is ownerless; whoever gets it can keep it."

A table away, a few people gathered in a circle around a skinny young man.

He spoke in a low, mysterious voice, almost like a ghost's whisper:

"You only know how to collect treasures, but you don't know the value of life. I've heard from wise people that a great demon is practicing evil magic, and he wants to use the souls of countless creatures in the Western Sea as a catalyst..."

Before he could finish speaking, everyone gasped in shock.

"Finding some spiritual items is fine, but if we actually encounter a sea monster rushing ashore... we'd better stay far away, otherwise we won't be robbing treasures, we'll just be giving away our lives."

Someone smacked their lips and whispered, their voice carrying a hint of guilt and greed.

The four words "using the living soul as a guide" landed in my mind, perfectly matching the withered and lifeless state of the dragon fish.

Jiang Feng's face remained calm, but his teacup paused slightly before he took another sip of the bitter tea.

The tea was so astringent it felt tight, like sandpaper stuck to my throat, but swallowing it did give me a bit of a boost.

His gaze shifted and landed on an old fisherman in the corner of the teahouse, who was busy mending his net.

The old man had a face full of wrinkles and white eyebrows, but his breathing was steady and long, unlike the appearance of an ordinary old fisherman exposed to the wind and sun. He must be a wise man who had kept his secrets hidden.

He was threading a needle while whispering to someone:
"These days, it's getting harder and harder to understand. Originally, it was demons guarding the coastline and killing sea beasts, which was already evil enough. Recently, something even more ruthless has emerged, specifically targeting those demons."

He spoke slowly, piercing the coarse net with a needle, taking a puff of his pipe into his lungs, before continuing leisurely:
"A white-clad old woman, as thin as a bamboo pole, but with eyes as cold as frosty knives. I saw it with my own eyes: a few days ago, those three wolf demons in Black Wind Cave were killed by her, their throats slit by her sword, one by one. They didn't even have time to howl before they fell cleanly."

After those words were spoken, the surroundings fell silent for a few moments.

Someone couldn't help but whisper, "Is there really such a person? What level of cultivation would they need?"

The old fisherman spat out a mouthful of tobacco ash, rubbed his fingers together, and said, "I don't know her cultivation level. But I noticed she was walking unsteadily, as if she had injured her foundation."

The woman in white?

These words, falling into his ears, were like a small pebble dropped into the heart of water, creating a faint ripple on the surface of Jiang Feng's heart.

He paused slightly, then slowly placed the teacup back on the table. The copper coin jingled on the bamboo mat, rolled twice, and came to a steady stop.

He had already stood up, without looking back, but his steps were extremely steady.

In the Dragon Palace of the West Sea, a great demon refines a treasure, and a woman in white...

He pulled out several loose threads that were originally tangled together, one by one. Before he could weave them into any pattern, he finally managed to find a knot.

The sea breeze was cooler at night, making the tents rustle and fading the daytime bustle on the mudflats.

Most treasure hunters were already huddled in their shacks, dozing off while guarding a few pieces of tattered junk whose condition was indistinguishable.

Only a few furtive shadows remained, circling in the darkness like persistent mice.

However, the "Listening to the Tide Pavilion" at Heming Mountain is excessively quiet.

Master Chongxu sat with his eyes closed, like a withered pine tree falling on a rock, neither hearing nor moving;
Uncle Lingwei calmly polished the jade ruyi beside the low table. His movements were extremely slow, and the rustling sound was very soft, yet clear and distinct, becoming the only sound in this small world.

Jiang Feng stood under the corridor and recounted the news he had heard from the market during the day, word for word.

After he finished speaking, there was silence in the tent for a moment.

Silence is colder and heavier than the wind.

After a moment, Uncle-Master Chongxu slowly opened his eyes a crack, revealing a faint light in them.

"A powerful demon refining a treasure... that does suit the mood." His voice was hoarse. "But, that woman in white..."

He was interrupted halfway through his sentence by a sudden movement from his Uncle Lingwei.

She raised her head, her clear, moon-like eyes falling upon the churning night outside the tent, her tone still as indifferent as ever:
"coming."

Almost at the same moment the word "Here they come" was uttered, a blinding, eerie light suddenly burst forth from the distant beach.

The light seemed to pause in the night, as if the slender moon on the horizon was startled and retreated behind the clouds.

Immediately afterwards, the sounds of metal clashing rang out one after another, and several inhuman roars pierced the air, tearing apart the silence of the night and startling the flocks of sleepless seagulls on the beach.

Upon hearing the sound, more than a dozen disciples turned their heads to look at their master.

The disciples obeyed the order, each transforming into wisps of green smoke, drifting lightly out of the magic array without causing the slightest ripple.

Jiang Feng found a shady spot under a pile of rocks, curled up and hid, concealing his presence, leaving only his eyes to gaze quietly.

The moonlight barely pierced through the gaps in the clouds, clearly outlining the battle situation in the distance.

A colossal creature lay sprawled on the beach, its shell as black as iron, with several barnacles still embedded in its edges—it was a stranded black tortoise.

The faint spiritual light beneath the turtle's belly resembled a bead rolling in fire, stirring up the demonic energy in the surrounding wilderness.

Seven or eight wolf-headed, human-bodied demons surrounded it, each holding a bone fork that glowed with a blue light. Their movements exuded a menacing aura, clearly indicating that they were after the demon core.

Knowing it was powerless to fight back, the black tortoise simply shrank back into its shell, letting the bone tridents smash down with a crackling sound and sparks fly, without revealing an inch of its soft flesh.

But as the protective aura grew dimmer with each layer, and even the edges of the tortoise shell showed several spiderweb-like cracks, it was clear that it couldn't hold out for long.

Just then, a white figure streaked through the air, like a startled swan skimming the water.

It was a woman dressed in plain clothes. The moonlight fell on her shoulders as if it were falling on snow, without a speck of dust on her.

She held a long sword in her hand, so thin it was almost transparent. When the sword moved, ripples of light appeared on its surface, as if she were holding the entire moon in her hand.

The moment she appeared, the entire aura of demonic energy seemed to be cleaved open like a ball of ink by a sharp blade, creating a crack.

The sword light rose and fell extremely quickly, yet showed no sign of haste.

Each sword strike was swift and decisive, aimed directly at vital points, as if it had been practiced countless times and required no thought before it was delivered.

The monsters, which had been ferocious just moments before, now collapsed one after another as if a hornet's nest had been disturbed.

Jiang Feng's gaze never left her from the moment she appeared.

That movement, that sword stance, that cool yet stubborn aura...

too familiar.

It was a memory so familiar to him, as if it were etched into his very bones.

(End of this chapter)