Sealed in the Jar

Meanwhile, Yao Chen, inside the ring, also sensed two familiar presences approaching. Xiao Yan's presence in particular made his soul instinctively tense, followed by a surge of indescribably complicated emotions-anger at being betrayed, humiliation at being toyed with, and a faint trace of anticipation that even he refused to acknowledge?

No, impossible! How could the mighty Venerable Yao look forward to seeing that ungrateful brat? As for the other one, Xiao Yi, that freak whose bizarre "spells" had nearly scattered my soul, he makes me grind my teeth with hatred.

"Hmph, those two little bastards actually dared to come back?" Yao Chen's anger had yet to subside. Xiao Yan, especially, had abandoned him here, so what had he come running back for now? Had he run into another problem he could not solve and remembered how useful his master was?

Yao Chen sneered inwardly and made up his mind. No matter what those two said, he would never show himself, much less give them any response. Let them stew! Better yet, let them smack their noses into a wall and flee in disgrace!

Just as Xiao Yan, full of doubts, was about to ask Xiao Yi exactly how this "inviting a spirit" business worked, he saw that Xiao Yi had already stepped up to the edge of the scorched circle. At the same time, Xiao Yi raised the pitch-black Clay Jar he had been holding against his chest, aiming its mouth at the ring in the center of the circle.

"Abracadabra... capture!"

As the final word, "capture," left his mouth, Xiao Yi abruptly thrust the Clay Jar downward! A strange suction, barely perceptible to the naked eye, suddenly poured out of its dark mouth. Like an invisible hand, it closed precisely over the Black Ring on the ground.

The ring trembled slightly, seemingly trying to resist, but the suction was utterly domineering and allowed no refusal. With a faint whoosh, the ancient ring housing Yao Chen's soul was forcibly dragged off the ground. It turned into a faint streak of black light and plunged straight into the Clay Jar, without the slightest chance to resist!

Immediately afterward, moving faster than thunder could reach the ear, Xiao Yi produced a palm-sized piece of Red Cloth and swiftly covered the jar's mouth. Then he pulled a Red Cord from his robes and, in a few deft movements, wound it tightly around the opening several times. Finally, he tied an exceedingly intricate knot that gave the whole thing the air of a professional seal.

Only after finishing all this did Xiao Yi pat the Black Altar in satisfaction and cradle it against his chest again, casting a smug glance at Xiao Yan, who had turned completely to stone beside him.

Xiao Yan's mouth hung open, his eyes round as saucers. He stared fixedly at the Clay Jar in Xiao Yi's arms, then looked at the now-empty scorched circle on the ground. His mind went utterly blank.

That... that's it? What happened to "inviting" him? What happened to "borrowing the old ghost's power"? This is outright kidnapping! Xiao Yan's inward complaints ran wild. It was so simple, so brutal, so utterly unreasonable! Before he could even react, the "old ghost" he feared so much had been "captured" by Xiao Yi in such a childishly absurd fashion?

At that moment, Yao Chen, who had been sucked into the Clay Jar, was plunged into unprecedented shock and... utter bewilderment. He had traveled across the continent and witnessed countless extraordinary people and strange events, but never had he imagined that one day a greenhorn would "capture" him in a lousy black jar in such a humiliating manner!

That bizarre suction was not Dou Qi, nor was it any kind of soul power. It was overbearing and completely unreasonable. What he found most intolerable was the incantation the brat had muttered. "Abracadabra"? What sort of gibberish was that?!

Xiao Yan stood rooted to the spot, feeling that his entire understanding of the world had "once again" suffered an unprecedented blow. Xiao Yi's Dou Qi was only at the second stage now; there was no way he could perform a Dou Technique. How had he done all this? That Bouncy Ball Force of his Internal Martial Arts? But could Internal Martial Arts really reach the point of drawing objects through the air? That was far too mystical! Had he cultivated "internal energy"?

Recalling Xiao Yi's distinctly foreign-sounding "Abracadabra," an absurd thought flashed through Xiao Yan's mind. Could this guy really have learned some kind of Western Magic? After all, he had previously bragged about studying abroad. Yet the way Xiao Yi had covered the jar with Red Cloth and tied knots with the Red Cord carried a strong flavor of Daoist occult arts.

While Xiao Yan racked his brains in vain, his thoughts bubbling into a pot of porridge, the culprit, Xiao Yi, had already carried his "spoils" over to a reasonably clean stone step in the courtyard and sat down, looking perfectly relaxed. He set the Clay Jar beside him, gave it a solemn little pat, cleared his throat, and addressed it.

"Hey, old gentleman in there, stop pretending to sleep. I know you're awake. Wasn't that a delightful surprise? Didn't see it coming, did you?"

Inside the jar, it was so dark that Yao Chen could not see his hand in front of his face. Only the thick, pungent reek of liquor assailed him. He shifted his illusory soul, trying to determine where he was, but felt nothing except smooth, cold walls and a space so cramped he could only curl up inside.

This texture... this smell... this is clearly a wine jar! I, the mighty Venerable Yao, have actually been "invited" into a lousy wine jar by a junior in such a crude fashion?! An unforgivable humiliation! An utterly unforgivable humiliation!

Yao Chen was so furious that the three corpse spirits within him leaped in rage and smoke rose from all seven orifices. Forcing down his anger and humiliation, he tried to summon the Bone Spirit Cold Flame within him. That ghostly white flame was his pride as Venerable Yao and his greatest remaining source of strength. If he could just activate the Bone Spirit Cold Flame and burn through this wretched jar, those two little bastards would see whether they dared toy with him again!

Yet the Bone Spirit Cold Flame, which normally answered his slightest summons, now seemed sunk in a deathlike sleep. No matter how he urged it, it gave no response. Yao Chen's heart sank. This is bad. Is my soul power too weak? Or... is there something about this bizarre seal that I don't understand? The more anxious he became, the more clearly he felt his own helplessness, as though invisible shackles had locked his power away.

After repeated attempts came to nothing, Yao Chen finally erupted. He could sense the two brats outside the jar, especially that freak named Xiao Yi, who was smugly holding it as though it were some priceless treasure.

"Xiao Yi! You despicable, shameless wretch! Let me out this instant!"

Yao Chen's furious roar echoed inside the cramped Clay Jar, making even his soul tremble. By the time it reached the outside, however, it had dwindled to a mosquito's whine, with a muffled, hollow quality.

Outside, Xiao Yi held the jar with a wicked grin and lightly tapped its wall with his finger, producing a knock-knock sound.

"Oh my, Old Master Yao, you certainly have quite a temper. Want to come out? That's not impossible. But shouldn't we discuss terms first? For instance, you could do us one tiny favor. Once it's done, I'll not only let you out, but also find you a way to repair your soul quickly. How does that sound?"

The words were casually spoken, yet every one jabbed straight into Yao Chen's sore spots. What does he mean, "one tiny favor"? He clearly wants to enslave me! And a "way to repair my soul"? Not even a ghost would believe that!

"Terms? To hell with your terms! I should have listened to that little bastard Xiao Yan and killed you first, you freak! Then I wouldn't have to swallow this damned humiliation today!"