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

Chapter 98 The Visualization of a Line of Blood

After the gold ingots, silks, tea, and other tributes were sorted out, Jiang Liang stopped smiling and cleared his throat.

His expression took on an unusual seriousness.

"Father, mother."

His voice was not loud, but it carried a calm weight.

"Before I left for the army, I wrote a letter home... I wonder if there has been any resolution to the matter I mentioned in it?"

Unlike a shy teenager, he spoke frankly, with the composure that comes with experience, and seemed ready to ask any question that needed to be asked.

As Jiang Yi listened, his eyes twitched slightly, his expression remaining calm, but a hint of understanding appeared in his eyes.

He nodded and said slowly, "Don't worry, everything that needs to be arranged has been arranged. The matchmakers in Longshan County have already reached out to us."

"Once the new house is topped out, we'll pick an auspicious day and come to propose marriage."

Upon hearing this, Jiang Liang simply hummed in agreement and nodded vigorously, his relaxed demeanor radiating from his eyebrows to his shoulders.

But a slight muttering still lingered at the corner of his mouth:
"As for proposing marriage... it doesn't necessarily have to wait until the house is finished..."

The murmur, though low, was clear enough that, to the parents' ears, it sounded like they were anxiously trying to hide their feelings.

Jiang Yi listened from the side and couldn't help but chuckle. He turned his head and exchanged a glance with Liu Xiulian, his eyes full of undisguised amusement.

My son's feelings for me have probably been brewing for a long time.

Jiang Liang had experienced the hardships and bloodshed of the military.

When he returned, his face was relaxed, and his words revealed a hint of youthful pride.

But Jiang Yi saw it at a glance.

This kid's body is tense, and his mind is on edge.

Sitting inside, he still exudes an air of nonchalance, as if he were still outside, ready to seize a horse, draw his sword, and kick off armor at any moment.

He didn't press for details about the military; the more he talked about those battles and deaths on the battlefield, the more Liu Xiulian would have trouble sleeping at night.

The family ate together. There weren't many dishes, but everything was piping hot and the aroma was like a festival.

Liu Xiulian muttered to herself, saying that he had gotten darker and thinner, her tone slightly reproachful, but her chopsticks never stopped, picking up three pieces at a time and putting them into his bowl.

Jiang Xi sat to the side, talking about the latest happenings in the village, sometimes bringing up Liu Zi'an, and sometimes veerging back to the dispute over the "right seat" position.

Jiang Liang didn't interrupt, he just listened to his mother's nagging and his sister's gossip, a smile never leaving his face.

The meal was eaten slowly but thoroughly, as if making up for the days missed during the year away from home, bite by bite.

When the night was deep and the lights were quiet, Jiang Yi told him to rest early.

The area in front of and behind the house is already rich in spiritual energy, and now with the water veins running through it, when you close your eyes at night, you can feel a warm feeling like spring water gently nourishing your soul.

Moreover, the word "home" is the most effective remedy for the lingering shock of war.

Seeing Jiang Liang go back to his room to rest, Jiang Yi turned around and went around to the back woods.

The trees cast sparse shadows, the wind rustles the branches, and all is quiet around the chicken coop.

The two broods of newly hatched "second-generation chicks" huddled in their nests, clucking and looking like little balls of fluff. They were all very energetic, their eyes shining like lamps.

It has abundant spiritual energy and a solid foundation, making it far superior to the first batch.

Things are no longer like they used to be, when you had to be careful with everything.

Jiang Yi looked around for a while, then turned back to the chicken coop and picked out a half-step Spiritual Achievement old chicken from the old nest.

With its glossy feathers and sturdy frame, the chicken barely struggled when picked up; it just shook its wings, as if resigned to its fate.

Back inside, he took out the box that the Li family had sent him. It was heavy, and when he opened it, the aroma of medicine filled the air.

He took a piece of the medicinal herb, about the size of a finger joint. It was warm to the touch, shimmering with a faint light, and felt slightly warm in his hand. This time, he didn't call for Jiang Ming; he simply rolled up his sleeves and stood guard by the stove.

The water boils three times, and the fire is changed twice.

When the medicine was added to the pot, a misty atmosphere filled the air, the aroma of chicken oil mingling with the fragrance of the herbs, and wisps of white steam rose up around the edge of the pot.

Before anyone even picks up their chopsticks, just sitting by the pot and smelling the aroma makes one feel completely comfortable.

It felt like being immersed in a steaming pot of medicine, loosening up inch by inch.

The next morning, when the light was still dim and dew still clung to the eaves, the rooster behind the house crowed twice.

Jiang Liang had woken up, turned over and got out of bed, his footsteps landing silently.

Those who have served in the military have become strong, sleep soundly, and wake up early; their spirits are always awake before dawn.

Instead of going out to the courtyard to practice his fists and sticks as before, he slowly strolled along the old path toward the old house.

The new house may be nice, but it is still new.

The old house has the earthen bed where he slept as a child, a mottled shadow in the corner covered with traces of his childhood, and the aroma of firewood, grass roots, and medicine dregs from the kitchen.

As soon as I entered the door, it felt like my soul calmed down a bit.

Jiang Yi was sitting in front of the stove, leaning back in a bamboo chair, his body slightly tilted back, his eyelids lowered, as if he were resting or meditating.

Hearing footsteps, she slightly raised her eyelids, saw it was the child, raised her eyebrows, curved her lips, and waved to him.

Jiang Liang approached with a smile and sat down next to him.

A breeze blew from the corner of the yard, lifting the window paper and carrying a few wisps of the medicinal aroma from the stove, warming one's stomach.

He took a breath, smiled, and exclaimed, "Dad's cooking skills are getting better and better. I've never smelled anything like this in Luoyang."

When Jiang Yi heard him say that, he just snorted and laughed. He put his hand over the stove, picked up a handful of ashes, and slowly rubbed them between his fingers.

After a long pause, he asked, as if it were just a casual remark:
"The 'Taishang Laojun Shuo Chang Qingjing Jing' that I taught you that year, have you still been reciting it all these years? Have you come up with any insights from it?"

It was like a casual conversation after a meal, where an old topic was casually brought up again.

After all, he had passed on this scripture to others before.

The eldest son started learning the earliest and had a solid foundation, but he never quite grasped the essence of the subject.

The younger daughter is more talented, but she can't sit still, started learning late, and hasn't achieved anything significant.

As for himself, he was the first to calm down, and his spirits were also somewhat tempered.

But that image was still like a flower in a mirror or the moon in the water; not even a trace of it could be seen.

The more you think about it, the less you realize it; the more you seek it, the further away it seems; the deeper you cultivate yourself, the more you feel like you're just going around in circles.

Upon hearing this, Jiang Liang paused slightly, not speaking immediately, but remaining silent for a moment, as if sorting out his thoughts.

"It's not that I didn't practice for the first two years."

He spoke, his voice low: "But every time my mind is empty, I can't see anything."

At this point, his tone softened, as if he were hesitant, or perhaps pondering that fleeting feeling.

"But this time when we returned from the expedition... most of my comrades were so frightened by that blood array that they couldn't sleep well for months."

"I was able to fall asleep by reciting meditation exercises. That night, when I entered a meditative state, my mind was calm, but after reciting only half a scroll of scripture, suddenly my mind..."

He paused, as if afraid of sounding too mysterious, or perhaps unsure how to phrase it.

"It was as if a thin line of blood-red light shot out from the stillness, blood-red, neither fierce nor cold."

(End of this chapter)