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

Chapter 142 Reunion with an Old Friend, West Sea Dragon Girl
Jiang Feng tensed up almost instinctively.

The white figure weaved through the demon horde, sword strike after sword strike, the sword light dancing like frost and snow, cold and solitary.

However, outnumbered, she was outmatched, and as her clothes fluttered, several old wounds that had not yet healed were faintly revealed.

Like bloodstains not yet completely covered in snow, they cannot be hidden.

After three or five rounds, her footwork showed signs of fatigue, her swordplay slowed down, and her breathing became slightly disordered.

The leading wolf demon grew increasingly excited as the battle progressed, its emerald green eyes gleaming with a lewd and fierce light.

Seizing the moment she turned her sword, a stench suddenly swept over them.

The bone fork came flying from the side, aiming straight for her vulnerable ribs. Its swift and vicious strike showed that the fork had been designed with this point in mind.

She sensed something was wrong and tried to draw her inner energy back to her sword to block, but she was too late.

The sword flashes slowly, but the killing intent has already arrived.

At that moment, the world seemed to fall silent, even the sound of the tide held its breath.

Jiang Feng's fingertips trembled, and his heart felt as if it had been struck heavily.

The difference between movement and stillness is but a moment.

But he could no longer hold him back.

That instruction to "not interfere" had long been forgotten.

If I stand idly by today, I fear my heart will be clouded for the rest of my life, and I will be bent over in my dreams every night.

"Senior brother, may I borrow your sword?"

Jiang Feng's voice wasn't loud, but before he finished speaking, his hand had already reached out.

"bass!"

With a soft sound, before the man could react, the sword was drawn from behind his back, its cold light flashing and carrying a hint of chill.

Without saying much, he lightly tapped his fingertips from his sleeve, and a faint golden talisman affixed to the spine of the sword.

The ordinary iron body suddenly shimmered with layers of white light, like the first snow covering a sheath, a light layer that commanded respect.

The next moment, with a flick of his clothes, he had already leaped away.

Like the wind entering the forest, like snow falling on the sea.

Amidst the sound of wind breaking, a sharp "ding" was heard, as crisp as jade cracking.

The bone fork that seemed destined for victory was thus blocked by his sword, unable to advance an inch.

His opponent was a wolf demon who was halfway to human form, and his cultivation was far superior to his.

But the sword had a talisman on it, and the hand was intentional. With a clear mind, the block was perfectly timed.

He walked straight ahead, his eyes fixed straight ahead, his sleeves fluttering slightly, and whispered, "Three steps to the left."

The woman in white trembled upon hearing the voice, as if she recognized the person who had spoken.

That moment of hesitation ultimately couldn't overcome the instinct ingrained in my bones.

She took a small step as instructed, and as soon as her toes touched the ground, there was a loud "boom." The spot where she had just stood was swept away by the spiked club, sending pebbles flying and dust raining down.

Jiang Feng slightly turned his wrist, and the sword's momentum was icy, like water pouring from a silver bottle. A clear light swept around, dispelling the demonic shadows surging from all sides.

Wherever the cold light reached, the wolf demons involuntarily took a half step back, their feet crunching softly, giving the two a brief respite to catch their breath.

He still had his back to her, speaking in a calm and unhurried tone:

"Long time no see, Xiaobai."

The woman in white's knuckles trembled slightly, and her grip on the sword tightened almost imperceptibly.

The moonlight fell on her clean-cut eyebrows and eyes, as cool and serene as ever.

Beneath that chill, however, seemed to be a pool of spring water ruffled by the wind, with a few very faint ripples spreading out.

She didn't respond in the end, but simply walked quietly to his side and stood beside him.

A longsword, its frost still glistening, and a long blade, still stained with blood, intertwined in the moonlight.

Like the shadows of those days when we walked side by side through the snow, now fallen in the wind.

Some questions are better left unasked.

Some people, even across mountains and rivers, know where to go just by hearing a call.

Those wolf demons had no interest in human affairs.

The stronger the smell of blood, the more ferocious they became, growling incessantly as they pressed closer, their killing intent even more intense than before.

Strange to say.

Jiang Feng usually stayed by the furnace, watching the fire, preparing medicinal herbs, and practicing sword techniques as usual, but it was all just routine and didn't really show any real skill.

But tonight, this sword felt surprisingly smooth to use.

A burst of true energy rises from the dantian, like rain after a long drought, flowing through the entire body, along the tendons and bones, bringing life and response to every part of the body.

The sword doesn't seek speed or ferocity, but it always manages to land at the most critical moment, blocking and parrying perfectly.

The demonic figure pounced with overwhelming force, but it was always caught by his sword, unable to retreat or advance.

It's like his technique in the furnace—unhurried and calm, yet able to control the heat perfectly in an instant.

However, Xiao Bai beside him had the exact opposite sword intent.

She remains that cold sword in the snow, sharp and piercing.

Although he had lost some blood and his steps were unsteady, his swordsmanship had not diminished much.

With Jiang Feng by her side, drawing out her "qi," she no longer hesitated, focusing solely on speed, ruthlessness, and precision in her sword strikes, unleashing the essence of "sharpness" to its fullest extent.

There is no need for words between the two, and they don't even need to look at each other.

His sword tip veered eastward, while her cold light had already faded westward.

He shifted his foot slightly, and she stepped in half a step, sealing the opening completely, turning defense into offense, leaving no room for error.

Their eyes never met, yet their hearts were already intertwined.

One in motion, one still; one tense, one relaxed—like a pair of sword dancers in an old score, each adhering to their own move, yet complementing each other.

The leading wolf demon attacked for a long time, but couldn't bite through even the slightest opening.

Instead, the unhurried sword net disrupted his breathing, his fangs grew dull, and his green eyes gradually turned fierce.

Finally unable to hold back, it let out a low roar, and its demonic energy exploded into a circle of gray waves, shaking the fallen leaves in the forest and causing them to swirl backward.

It lunged at Jiang Feng with great ferocity, clearly determined to first devour this obstructive path.

Jiang Feng remained calm.

Holding his sword in one hand, he met the attack head-on without even making a sound.

With a flick of his other sleeve, a talisman shot out of the air. Before he could even chant the incantation, it transformed into fire in the wind, becoming a blazing beam of light that hurtled straight at the wolf demon's face.

Caught off guard, the demon's green eyes flashed with horror, and it tried to dodge but couldn't.

But behind it, the silent and still sword light had quietly blocked its retreat.

Xiao Bai's sword strikes are silent, with the angles being tricky and the timing precise, without the slightest error.

It was neither fast nor fierce, neither startling nor disturbing, yet it landed precisely in the throat.

The sword pierced his throat with only a muffled thud.

Silently.

Only a stream of hot blood gushed from the wolf demon's throat, scattering into a few specks of light under the moonlight.

The demon's body stiffened slightly, and the glimmer of light in its green eyes slowly faded, as if it still did not understand what had gone wrong.

The next instant, the enormous body collapsed to its knees, raising a cloud of dust.

When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter; this principle applies equally to demons.

The remaining demons, seeing that their leader had died so swiftly and cleanly, with even his bones still warm, scattered like birds and beasts, not even daring to make a feint.

With a strange cry, they swarmed into the forest, leaving no trace behind.

They are fast, but there are people who are even faster.

The members of the Celestial Masters sect had been guarding the outer circle for some time, and their previous inaction was simply due to adherence to the rules.

Now that Jiang Feng has made his move, none of those fleeing demons can be spared.

Suddenly, a burst of sword light appeared all around, chilling like frost. Several figures swept through the shadows of the trees, followed by a few short, mournful screams that rose and fell, scattered and without causing a ripple.

The stench of blood drifted gently on the night breeze, chilling to the bone.

Jiang Feng flicked his wrist, twirling his sword and shaking off the few drops of demon blood remaining on it.

The frost covering the sword light also quietly dissipated at this moment, revealing the original, honest iron sword.

He stood with his sword hanging down, gently rubbing the ashes from the burnt talisman paper. His expression showed some hesitation, as if he felt that the talisman was acting strangely, but he did not say anything.

Xiao Bai stood to the side, still gripping her sword, her chest rising and falling slightly, clearly indicating that the battle had drained much of her inner energy. She remained silent, turning instead to walk towards the reclining Xuan Turtle.

The tortoise lay sprawled on the sand, its limbs spread out like wet mud, cracks still visible on its shell, as if it had just been robbed.

Xiao Bai raised her hand and gently patted its back, her movements so gentle that they didn't seem like someone accustomed to wielding a fast sword.

"never mind."

The voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing the moonlight.

The black tortoise slowly poked its head out, and its large, beady eyes revealed a hint of human kindness; they were wet and full of gratitude.

It slowly nodded three times to the two of them, then used all four limbs to clumsily crawl towards the sea.

The seawater shimmered under the moonlight, wave after wave, like silver threads wrapping around the shadow of a tortoise, slowly engulfing it.

The sound of the tide rising and falling, lapping against the rocks, and also against the silence between the two.

Jiang Feng then turned around, his gaze falling on her. His expression remained unchanged, but a faint, ambiguous smile appeared on his lips, as if he were examining an old object that he hadn't handled in a long time but still recognized its texture.

"Has grown tall."

Concise and to the point.

The moonlight, as clear as if it had been washed, enveloped her brows and eyes, making her appear even paler. Her lips, devoid of color, were left with only a layer of frost-like coldness.

Clearly, the fierce battle just now aggravated his old injuries, and his vital energy had not yet returned to normal.

She was looking at him too.

There were many layers hidden in his eyes: the surprise of the reunion, the peace of being side by side, and a very light and faint but ever-present sense of estrangement.

"you……"

Her throat bobbed slightly, as if she wanted to ask something, but she couldn't find a suitable way to ask. The words circled on her lips, but she swallowed them back.

Jiang Feng acted as if he hadn't heard.

He merely lowered his head, tugged at the hem of his shirt, and casually straightened his cuffs, a smile playing on his lips, yet his tone was that of an old neighbor he hadn't seen in a long time:
"He's seriously injured."

As he spoke, he took out a small porcelain bottle from his pocket, but instead of handing it over, he tossed it away with a flick of his wrist.

"It's homemade, so the medicine doesn't look very good and doesn't sell for a high price, but it's passable for treating minor injuries."

His tone was indifferent, neither particularly considerate nor distant.

But the casual tossing motion and the arc of the bottle flying out were just like the half-eaten roasted sweet potato he threw over from the hill behind the house years ago.

It's like the years have changed, the stance has changed, but I've never learned to be serious.

The woman instinctively caught it. The porcelain bottle was icy cold to the touch, but strangely, it felt slightly warm in her palm.

She looked up, her lips twitching as if she wanted to ask something.

But Jiang Feng had already turned around and walked slowly toward the reef, his back view languid, his steps very steady.

“My commander is over there,” he said casually, waving his hand without even glancing back. “If you trust him, come over. It’s better than you standing here alone in the sea breeze.”

The woman stood there, her fingers tightly gripping the porcelain bottle.

Watching that receding figure, and then gazing at the shadowy rocks in front of me, the sea breeze, carrying dampness, blew through my sleeves, leaving me feeling cold, but it couldn't dispel the old grudges in my heart.

After a moment of silence, she finally lifted her foot and followed quietly.

Some debts are unavoidable.

Some people are like that too.

The two walked one after the other on the moonlit gravel, their steps light, yet as if they were stepping into the night with many old stories, the wind turning pages and the tide singing softly.

Before long, they arrived at the reef.

The disciples from Crane Cry Mountain had already gathered, but they all stood far apart, and none of them dared to get close.

People were standing, but their eyes were all looking around, some curious, some speculative, and some with an indescribable meaning.

Aunt Lingwei still stood at the highest point, her Daoist robe billowing in the night wind, making her solitary and aloof demeanor even more striking.

His gaze did not linger on Jiang Feng for long, but only swept over him briefly before landing on the woman in white.

His gaze was icy, as cold as a pool of water beneath thin ice in early winter, too still to look away, yet carrying a hint of quiet criticalness.

The woman was slightly startled, as if a night wind had suddenly swept her back. Her body tensed, and her fingertips quietly gripped the hilt of the sword, turning white from the pressure.

The slight wariness I had just let down slowly returned.

The senior uncle Chongxu, who hadn't spoken a word from beginning to end, had somehow strolled over from the side.

He walked very slowly, his footsteps were silent, and his gray robe trailed on the ground. He arrived right in front of her.

Looking up, the eyes were half-closed, murky yet bright, like an old bronze mirror covered with a layer of ash, yet they revealed everything about the person looking into it.

But then, a smirk appeared on his lips, and he let out a soft "heh".

The laughter wasn't loud, but amidst the sounds of the tide and the night breeze, it rang out clearly.

“Girl,” he said slowly, “you are not human.”

His voice was not loud, but it was like a stone thrown into a well, creating ripples that fell on the water and on everyone's faces.

Many people's expressions shifted slightly, and they quietly shifted their feet, as if the night wind had suddenly picked up.

The woman's face suddenly turned pale.

That murderous aura hidden deep within her bones was suddenly unleashed from the shadows, like a knife piercing her bone, causing her knuckles to turn slightly blue and her palm holding the sword to tremble.

Jiang Feng moved forward half a step, slightly turning his body to the side, just enough to block half of her figure, seemingly unintentionally, yet perfectly.

He cupped his hands in greeting to his senior uncle, Chongxu, his voice low but his tone extremely calm.

"Senior Uncle, she..."

"She's not a demon either."

Chongxu raised his hand and gently waved it like a whisk, cutting him off.

His old eyes remained half-closed, but were fixed intently on the woman:

"I have the aura of the Water God in my body, and the blood of a true dragon in my bones," he said slowly, his tone relaxed, as if he were telling a story. "But my cultivation level... is still too immature."

"Are you fighting and killing on the shore to defend yourself, or to stand up for the common people?" Chongxu looked at her and smiled, but his tone was icy.

A single sentence landed lightly, yet left no room for retreat.

The color had completely drained from Xiao Bai's face, and his lips were devoid of any rosy hue, leaving only a deathly pale complexion.

She stared at the old Taoist priest, and the wariness in her eyes finally loosened, revealing a hint of unconcealed horror.

The old man merely glanced at her, and then stripped her of all her origins, lineage, and past, leaving nothing behind, like rubbing dust from a pile of ashes.

At this moment, Martial Uncle Lingwei also descended on the wind, his figure like frost brushing against snow, silent and yet impossible to avoid.

She lifted her sleeve, her voice extremely calm, yet carrying a chill:
"Leaving the palace without permission and disrupting the karmic order of the mortal world. Is this how your elders taught you to behave?"

His tone was not harsh, and he handled it very skillfully, neither showing anger nor forgiving.

One reveals the origin, the other questions the source.

In just a few words, the woman's fragile defenses crumbled completely.

She bit her lip, remaining silent, her fingertips trembling slightly from the force of her grip, even tightening her grip on the sword hilt.

Jiang Feng was caught in the middle, and his temples throbbed with pain.

He sighed softly, bowed slightly, and his tone carried a hint of helpless resignation:
“Senior aunt, senior aunt, I am an old acquaintance of hers.”

"She's not a bad person, but she's a bit reckless in her actions."

"It's more than just recklessness."

Uncle Lingwei snorted coldly, his eyebrows not moving, his tone as cold as a stone at the bottom of the sea.

"The Pearl of the Western Sea has been damaged, and even the Dragon Palace itself is in dire need of protection. This little dragon girl, barely out of her teens, instead of staying in her underwater palace to cultivate, insists on coming ashore to show off her heroism. If it weren't for you having this much free time today..."

She paused, raised an eyebrow, and her voice, like a sharp blade being tested for the first time, pierced diagonally:

"Her life was probably buried in the rubble on this beach long ago, without even a sound."

Upon hearing the words "Little Dragon Girl," Jiang Feng's eyelids twitched slightly, but he remained silent.

The night wind turned over, like lifting a curtain, blowing away the fog that had lingered in his heart for days.

The rumors that circulated during the day, some true and some false, the "West Sea Incident" that was said to be incredibly mysterious, and Xiao Bai's sudden appearance... all finally connected and became a reality.

He slowly turned his head and glanced at the woman.

There was no surprise in his eyes, but rather a strange undertone.

It's hard to explain, it's hard to articulate, it only holds a few traces of the old moonlight and a trace of the night rain.

No wonder that night rain fell so heavily and fiercely.

(End of this chapter)