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

Chapter 83 Jingxie Shouyuan Dazhenren

Back at the campsite, the chill that had gripped him was warmed by the campfire, and Jiang Liang felt his life gradually returning.

The firelight flickered, the metal clanged softly, and the stench of sweat and earth, the neighing of horses and the voices of men mingled together in a rough and chaotic yet reassuring atmosphere.

The old scout didn't say much, but whispered a few words to the military commander and handed over the tightly wrapped ghost mask.

After hearing this, the military commander nodded and turned around to order someone to relay the message.

A moment later, the order was given, and the two were summoned to the central command tent.

I imagine we need to question those higher-ups in detail.

Jiang Liang and his men then returned to the scout camp.

The tents were low and dilapidated, with knives and guns lying around, and a murderous aura mixed with the smell of smoke.

The little scout who had vomited all over the ground earlier was nowhere to be seen.

It was probably quite frightened and found a secluded place to hide, or perhaps it was transferred elsewhere.

Jiang Liang and the other two scouts went straight to the stove and were able to eat a few mouthfuls of hot food, which was a rare treat.

Although it was just some coarse yellow rice, after one bite, my stomach finally felt somewhat at ease.

That overwhelming malice gradually subsided.

After eating their fill, they returned to their tents. The scouts were elite troops, and although the tents were simple, they had provided a few worn-out beds.

Compared to groping your way through the dark in the woods, at least you can stretch out your legs and take a nap.

Just as Jiang Liang was about to lie down and rest, the two old scouts silently sat down on either side of the bed.

He casually tossed out a sentence, as if nothing had happened:

"This place is protected by military might, so evil spirits and demons can't get in. Kid, just sleep and don't worry about anything."

Jiang Liang knew what was going on; he understood that the two veterans thought he was young and it was his first time getting involved in this mess.

That kind of scene during the day would be unbearable for anyone, and fearing that he might make a sound in his sleep and wake up the ghost in his dream, they took it upon themselves to keep watch for him.

Jiang Liang didn't say much, just nodded slightly, acknowledging the sentiment.

He lay down after removing his armor, the long staff resting casually beside him, his palm covering the copper band, its coolness penetrating to his bones, yet bringing him a sense of peace.

The moment he closed his eyes, the image of death in the forest flooded his mind like a tidal wave.

His bones were broken, his limbs were spread wide, and a smile stretched from the corner of his mouth to his ears, as if he was cursing someone before he died.

The wizard's eyes popped out, his face smeared with blood and grotesque scribbles, soaring high, his eyes wide open in death, as if nailed to the depths of people's hearts.

If it were anyone else, they would probably jump up in fright, be disoriented and restless in the middle of the night, unable to cry or shout.

Jiang Liang merely frowned slightly, his heart sank a little, but his expression remained unchanged.

With a single thought, like an eagle flapping its wings, all those chaotic shadows are shaken off cleanly and swiftly, leaving no trace.

He then silently recited a few lines of the "Treatise on Sitting in Oblivion," and his thoughts, like embers in the wind, gradually died out, returning to stillness.

The night wind blew through the tent, and outside the camp came the snorting of horses and the soft clanging of metal.

Inside the tent, only Jiang Liang's even and deep breathing could be heard, as steady as a mountain.

He fell into a deep sleep, without even having a dream.

Inside the central military camp, the tents were brightly lit, smoke swirled at the top, and candlelight flickered between the curtains, casting indistinct shadows.

Several figures sat around the table, all important figures in the military, their expressions calm and focused on one object on the table.

A black mask, pitch black, with twisted patterns like the wailing of ghosts and wolves, lay quietly on the table, yet it sent a chill down one's spine.

In the main seat, Liangzhou Commandant Ma Changfeng sat upright with his hands behind his back, his features cold and hard, his back as straight as an iron spear.

Even without uttering a single word, they possess an iron-blooded and commanding presence.

To the left sat a middle-aged military officer, his robes were wrinkle-free, his seal and belt were fastened, and his expression was gentle yet sharp.

That was a Lieutenant General from Luoyang, an imperial envoy. He sat upright and steady, like an old pine tree in the mountains, unmoved by the wind. Even before he spoke, he exuded an air of authority.

On the right is a young Taoist priest, wearing a green robe with wide sleeves, a whisk across his knees, with handsome features, but his expression carries an air of aloofness that seems untouched by worldly affairs.

He was named Hemingshan, with the Taoist name "Chongxu," and was bestowed the title "Great Perfected Man Who Pacifies Evil and Guards the Origin" by imperial decree.

He was a high-ranking Taoist priest who accompanied the army to subdue evil spirits; his Taoist name was resounding, and he had quite a reputation.
Rumor has it that he suppressed the Black Witch Ridge at a young age and burned down three hundred caves of lonely souls, making him a figure of considerable importance in this line of work. However, at this moment, he sits to the side, his aura not in harmony with those in the tent.

Like a stone thrown into a cold pool, it leaves no ripples, which only makes it seem more lonely and desolate.

The old scout stood beside the military commander, his back ramrod straight. After giving a proper military salute, he slowly recounted the strange occurrences in the forest.

His speech was slow and gentle, yet every sentence was concise and to the point, leaving nothing out.

When talking about the merits of breaking the formation, he also mentioned the names of a few people.

Even the kid who panicked earlier and started chopping down trees with a knife wasn't spared.

In his words, it had become "a bold and decisive man who was the first to chop down the demon tree and boost morale."

He added, "His loyalty and courage in guarding the demon's face without retreating are commendable."

With just a few words, he masked his fear and put on a shining, respectable hat, making him sound like someone who had made a great contribution.

Ma Changfeng casually picked up the ghost mask on the table.

He twirled the object in his palm, glancing at the lines on it, and gave a cold "hmm" before handing it to the Taoist priest without pausing.

Master Chongxu took it with one hand; his fingers were like green bamboo, and his skin was as white as snow, yet he only held it between two fingers, as if he disliked the object for being too foul.

He placed the whisk across his knee, and before he moved, his gaze swept over the crowd, revealing a hint of disdain in his eyes.

Ma Changfeng ignored him, focusing only on the ghost mask, his tone steady yet carrying weight:

"How do you plan to break this formation?"

Upon hearing this, the old scout bowed slightly, his tone remaining as steady as ever:

"Reporting to the Commandant, we wandered around in the woods and saw that old elm tree was bare, but a cold wind was blowing around its branches. It's probably a trap."

"They all attacked at once, hacking away with their knives. Zhao Xiaowei's newly assigned kid, Jiang Liang, accidentally struck a crucial spot with his stick."

"Who knew it would ignite so quickly, and a ghost face suddenly appeared out of nowhere, causing the previously hazy formation to dissipate."

That Commandant Zhao was the deputy commander of the Liangzhou army on this mission, and he was sitting below Ma Changfeng at that moment.

He nodded slightly, his expression unchanged, and said nothing more.

Upon hearing this, Master Chongxu chuckled and flicked his whisk.

"Barbarian tricks are mere trifles, futile efforts."

"I will prepare some talismanic water and distribute it to all the camps and rooms tomorrow. Sprinkle it in front of the tents, and these evil spirits will flee far away and dare not approach."

He spoke lightly, but his words revealed a hint of undisguised arrogance.

He seemed to think that the work in the tent was nothing more than a trivial task like sweeping dust and watering, and that asking him to come was already an honor.

Ma Changfeng's eyebrows twitched slightly, and a faint displeasure flashed across his eyes, but he did not show it.

He simply summoned the camp attendants, gave them a few quiet instructions, and asked them to cooperate with the Taoist priest in performing the ritual. He then wrapped the ghost mask in layers and handed it over to the Taoist sect for safekeeping.

Finally, he turned to the military commander and instructed him, "This reconnaissance has been successful; record it."

Having said that, he raised his hand and waved it, signifying permission to leave.

Stepping out of the tent, the night breeze swept over me, bringing a sense of relief.

The old scout stood in the wind, like a bowstring stretched taut all day, only now quietly loosening its tension, his whole body collapsing half an inch.

After a moment of silence, he leaned close to the military commander in a low voice.

"That nephew of Sima Zhang... If it's convenient for you, General, could you find a pretext to transfer him to another place?"

The tone was low, yet it conveyed a sense of restraint:

"Logistics and supplies are both acceptable, which is better than continuing to wade in the water."

His tone was flat, yet he had already clearly made his stance clear.

The tent had just been praising his achievements, and before the words had even cooled, he turned around and ordered his men to leave.

Upon hearing this, the military commander naturally understood the situation.

He simply nodded slightly, his expression unchanged, his voice neither loud nor soft.
"I'll ask."

(End of this chapter)