This Taoist priest is so unprofessional!

"Where are the things?"

Zhang Chen remained noncommittal, simply looking at him calmly.

"In...in the study!"

As if he had received a pardon, General Manager Zhao quickly led the way.

He led the two to a quaintly decorated study on the second floor, then pointed to a pear wood display stand covered with a red cloth in the center of the room, and said in a trembling voice:

"Master, it's...it's it."

Zhang Chen's gaze swept over the red cloth, but he did not immediately step forward.

Instead, he turned around and glanced at Wang Xiaoer, signaling him to step back and not get too close.

Wang Xiaoer felt a chill run down his spine and subconsciously took two steps back, silently reciting the few calming mantras he had just read in the book.

The entire study was eerily quiet.

The curtains blocked out all the afternoon sunlight, leaving only a dim, gloomy atmosphere.

The faint earthy smell and chill in the air seemed to have found their source, seeping out from under the red cloth.

Mr. Zhao and Mr. Qian were so nervous that they forgot to breathe, staring intently at Zhang Chen's hand.

Zhang Chen's movements were slow.

He reached out and, without any fancy movements, simply pinched a corner of the red cloth.

Then, it suddenly flipped upwards!

The red cloth was completely removed.

On the display stand, a simple and ancient bronze box lay quietly.

The box was about a foot square and had an eerie dark blue color. Its surface was covered with intricate cloud and thunder patterns, interspersed with many twisted inscriptions that had never been seen before, like some kind of lost ancient script.

In the very center of the top of the box, a bronze bell the size of a baby's fist is tied with a copper chain of the same material.

The moment the red cloth was lifted.

There were no signs whatsoever.

The still bell seemed to be suddenly shaken by an invisible hand.

"jingle--!"

A crisp, yet chillingly clear, bell-like sound suddenly echoed throughout the study.

The sound seemed to possess some kind of magic, penetrating the eardrums and drilling into the brain.

Wang Xiaoer felt a buzzing in his head, as if he had been hit hard by a heavy hammer.

Everything in front of me instantly twisted and distorted.

He saw countless emaciated, indistinct figures seeping out from the walls and from under the floor, their mouths agape, wailing mournfully at him.

The sounds were sharp and noisy, like countless steel needles piercing his nerves.

A strong feeling of dizziness and nausea shot straight to the top of my head.

He saw that General Manager Zhao and Boss Qian had collapsed to the ground, clutching their heads and rolling around in pain, their faces filled with terror.

Just as his consciousness was about to be swallowed by this endless illusion, a sharp pain came from the tip of his tongue.

Yes!

The opening chapter of "A Detailed Introduction to Taoist Talismans" records that when one encounters evil spirits invading the brain and losing consciousness, one should use one's own essence and blood to dispel the illusions.

Next to it was a line of text annotated by Zhang Chen in red pen: Just use your fingernail to scratch your index finger until it breaks! Or you can bite the tip of your tongue.

In his desperation, Wang Xiaoer bit down hard almost instinctively.

A strong, metallic taste of blood exploded in my mouth.

A sharp pain, like an electric shock, coursed through his body, making him jolted awake.

The illusions before my eyes receded like the tide, and the wailing in my ears abruptly ceased.

The study is still the same study.

Mr. Zhao and Mr. Qian lay on the ground, their faces pale and their bodies convulsing, clearly still trapped in a hallucination.

Wang Xiaoer regained his senses, but his back was already soaked with cold sweat, his heart was pounding, and he was panting heavily. His eyes were filled with lingering fear as he looked at the copper box.

Just one ring of the bell almost got him into trouble.

This thing is too eerie!

However, Zhang Chen's reaction was many times faster than his.

Almost the instant the bell rang, his hand had already reached into his robes.

It was as fast as lightning.

He held a yellow talisman between his fingers. The runes drawn with cinnabar on the talisman seemed to come alive, with faint shimmering light.

"Imperial Edict!"

Zhang Chen uttered a short syllable.

With a flick of his wrist, the talisman fell with perfect precision, like a weightless leaf, and then, with a "snap," landed squarely on the bronze bell.

The moment the talisman was affixed, the eerie bell sound stopped abruptly.

It was as if a crowing rooster had been suddenly choked.

All sounds and illusions vanished in that instant.

The room fell silent again, with only the heavy breathing of General Manager Zhao and Boss Qian proving that what had just happened was not a dream.

Zhang Chen's expression was somewhat solemn. He glanced at the still-shaken Wang Xiaoer, and then at the two wealthy merchants on the ground who were completely terrified.

He spoke slowly, his voice icy.

"You guys are really brave."

"You dare bring these 'Soul-Suppressing Bells' and 'Evil-Nourishing Boxes' into your home?"

Mr. Zhao and Mr. Qian were clearly stunned by the hallucination they had just experienced. They remained sitting on the ground, staring blankly at Zhang Chen, completely unaware of what it meant.

"The Soul-Suppressing Bell?"

"A box for nurturing evil spirits?"

Zhang Chen walked to the bronze box, stretched out his finger but did not touch it. He simply tapped the bell that was suppressed by the talisman from a distance.

He sneered, his tone laced with sarcasm.

"What you brought back isn't an antique, it's a deadly thing!"

Mr. Zhao's lips trembled, his teeth chattered, and he could barely utter a complete sentence.

"Master... what... what exactly is this thing?"

He's now kicking himself for it.

The experience of those few seconds was more terrifying than all the nightmares he had ever had in his life combined.

At first, I only thought that this bronze artifact was exquisitely shaped and had rare patterns, making it a rare treasure. I thought that if I collected it, it would definitely be priceless in the future.

Little did they expect that this would bring back a death warrant.

Zhang Chen did not answer him directly.

He extended two fingers and carefully touched the edge of the talisman pasted on the copper box.

At the center of the talisman, the runes drawn with cinnabar were faintly hot, yet they remained firmly attached to it.

After confirming that the talisman could still suppress the attack for the time being, he withdrew his hand, pointed to the distorted inscriptions on the bronze box, and said in a deep voice.

"This is an ancient magical artifact."

"The bells on it are used to subdue and imprison the soul; this is called 'soul suppression'."

"The box below is used to nurture the imprisoned malevolent energy; this is called 'nurturing the malevolent energy'."

He paused, his gaze growing increasingly profound.

"Simply put, this thing is a tool used by an ancient sorcerer to create evil spirits."

"The creature kept in the box is no benevolent thing."

Wang Xiaoer, listening from behind, was terrified.

Tools for creating evil spirits?

This was completely beyond his comprehension.

Mr. Zhao was terrified. He pointed at the box, his lips trembling.

"Then...then inside here...now..."

What do you think?

Zhang Chen asked a question in return, his gaze sweeping over the man's pale face.

"You've been having nightmares every night lately, feeling disoriented, and sensing that there's someone else in the house. It's because the thing you're raising in this box is almost ready to take hold."

"Its malevolent energy is slowly eroding your spirit and vitality."

"If it's ten days or half a month later, once your yang energy has been completely drained, it will be able to break free of the box, and then..."

Zhang Chen didn't finish his sentence.

But the fear brought by those unspoken words was more deadly than any words could have been.

With a thud, General Manager Zhao knelt down on the ground.

He clung to Zhang Chen's leg, tears streaming down his face.

"Master! Help me, Master!"

"I don't want to die! Please save me!"