21 Yin Soul Shackle

Mo Yichen moved forward cautiously, his sharp senses picking up the faintest sound of breathing. It was so soft that anyone else would have missed it, but Mo Yichen wasn't just anyone. He was the kind of person who could hear a pin drop in a thunderstorm.

Up ahead, lying on the ground, was a massive five-meter-long white fox. Her once-pristine snow-white fur was now matted with rusty blood, and her eyes were barely open, glazed with pain. The half-crescent mark between her eyes glowed a faint purple under the moonlight, giving her an almost ethereal appearance. Despite her injuries, she was breathtakingly beautiful—like a tragic heroine from one of those overly dramatic cultivation novels Jing Yu loved to read.

Mo Yichen crouched down, keeping a respectful distance. He wasn't about to get mauled by a dying spirit beast, no matter how majestic she looked. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned Ziyun from his dimensional storage. The little fluff ball tumbled out, trembling and crawling on tiny paws toward its mother.

The moment the mother fox saw Ziyun, her vigilant, pained eyes softened. A warmth flickered in her gaze as she weakly raised her head, nuzzling the little furball with what little strength she had left. Ziyun snuggled close, its tiny body shaking with silent sobs.

Mo Yichen watched from a distance, feeling a strange ache in his chest. There was something profoundly sad about witnessing the last moments of a mother's love. He sighed, trying hard not to get caught emotionally.

But before he could wallow in self-pity, something extraordinary happened. The mother fox's body began to tremble, and a bright purple light condensed on her forehead. Her fur bristled with pain, and her eyes shut tight as she endured what looked like excruciating agony. Then, with a final, shuddering breath, she produced a glowing purple pearl, its surface shimmering with threads of beast qi.

Mo Yichen's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "This…!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking in disbelief.

A beast core was one thing—those were crystalline and relatively common (if you considered fighting a spirit beast to the death "common"). But a beast core pearl? That was on a whole other level. Unlike regular beast cores, which formed after death, a beast core pearl could only be created by a living spirit beast of at least the Spirit Stage or higher. And even then, it was a rare and selective process. Most cultivators would kill for such a treasure—literally. And Mo Yichen's extensive knowledge encompasses these things. 

The mother fox, clearly not interested in Mo Yichen's stiff expressions, weakly nudged the pearl toward Ziyun. The little fluff ball, still confused and innocent-eyed, sniffed at the glowing orb but didn't seem to understand its significance.

Then, the mother fox turned her gaze to Mo Yichen. Her eyes, though weak, were piercing, and he immediately understood her silent plea. She was entrusting Ziyun to him.

Mo Yichen nodded solemnly, his face still stiff, the shock evident in his deep big eyes. How painful must that be..? He wasn't unfamiliar with these things and he knew how strong the willpower of that fox must be. It's almost like digging fingers in your chest and taking out the heart. 

With her final wish fulfilled, the mother fox's eyes closed, and her breathing stilled. The once-majestic creature was gone, leaving behind a somber silence.

Mo Yichen sighed, running a hand through his hair. He glanced down at Ziyun, who was now clutching the glowing purple pearl with its tiny paws, looking like a fluffy ball of existential crisis.

In an instant, the massive five-meter-long body of the mother fox shrank down to a more manageable one-meter length. Mo Yichen blinked, momentarily distracted. 

Shaking his head, he got to work. After fifteen minutes of diligent digging—and a not-insignificant amount of mana to speed things up—he finally stood back, wiping dirt off his hands. "There," he said, looking down at the freshly dug grave under the tree. 

He carefully scooped up the smaller fox's body and laid it in the pit, covering it with mud. As he patted down the soil, he couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness. "Rest in peace"

With the burial complete, Mo Yichen turned his attention back to Ziyun. The little fluff ball was still clutching the purple pearl like it was the last piece of candy in the world. Mo Yichen crouched down, gently scooping Ziyun into his arms. "Ziyun?" he called softly, his voice tinged with concern.

There was no response. Just the tiny paws tightening around the pearl.

Mo Yichen sighed again, this time with a mix of exasperation and sympathy. It must be a huge shock for his little furball.

Ignoring the lingering ache in his chest—and the fact that he was now responsible for a fox cub—Mo Yichen entered his dimensional space with Ziyun in his arms. 

Mo Yichen laid Ziyun down on a soft cushion of grass, tucking the little furball in like a doting parent. He stretched his arms, feeling the weight of the day finally catching up to him. It had been a long time since he'd slept without a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. He let out a yawn, ready to collapse into blissful unconsciousness—

"YOU STUPID DISCIPLE!!"

A hoarse, elderly voice boomed in his ears, shattering the peaceful moment like a hammer to a teacup. Mo Yichen's eyes shot open, and he nearly jumped out of his skin as a man in flowing white robes materialized in front of him. It was Bai Xuan, his master, and the old man's face was as stiff as a stone statue.

"What—" Mo Yichen was startled, but before he could even finish, Bai Xuan grabbed his wrist with the speed of a hawk snatching a fish. The old man's eyes zeroed in on the black, shimmering jade bangle wrapped around Mo Yichen's slender wrist.

"T-This… this!!" Bai Xuan spluttered, his voice rising an octave. "Where did this foolish disciple get this thing?!"

Mo Yichen blinked, his brain struggling to catch up. The old man's eyebrows were furrowed so deeply they looked like they might fuse together. Sensing the storm brewing, Mo Yichen replied cautiously, "...Eh? This is a gift from a senior…" His voice trailed off as he realized there might be more to this bracelet than he'd thought.

He immediately tried to remove it, tugging and twisting, but the bangle didn't budge. It was as stubborn as a cat refusing to move from its favorite spot.

Bai Xuan let out a derisive snort. "You stupid brat, do you think a Yin Soul Shackle is that easy to remove? Even if you died this instant, you wouldn't be able to get rid of it!"

Mo Yichen froze, his face paling. "Yin Soul Shackle? Does Master know what it is?"

Bai Xuan narrowed his eyes, studying the bracelet like it had personally offended him. "Hmph! How stupid is my disciple!" he grumbled, but then, explaining something painfully obvious, he added, "A Yin Soul Shackle is a top-grade magical weapon, specifically designed for life-death relationships. It's generally used for… ahem… master-slave contracts. By infusing yin qi into this artifact, it's ideal for… cough… intimate slaves."

Mo Yichen's jaw dropped. "Intimate—what?!"

Bai Xuan ignored his outburst and continued, "Unlike other artifacts, this one isn't bound to your body—it's bound to your soul. As the name suggests, even if you die, your soul won't be able to break free from the person who bound you. In simple terms, you can't escape this person, not even after reincarnation. Though, of course, no such thing as reincarnation actually exists… probably."

Mo Yichen stared at the bangle, his mind racing. "So… you're saying I'm basically stuck with this person forever? Like, forever forever? Even if I die and come back as a cabbage?"

Bai Xuan nodded solemnly. "Yes. Even if you reincarnate as a cabbage, you'll still be bound to them."

Mo Yichen's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more chaotic than the last. His brain felt like it was hosting a heated debate between his common sense and his sheer, unbridled rage. And at the center of it all was one name: Yan Yeqing.

That scammer! That scheming, conniving, half-dead chicken! Mo Yichen's lips pressed into a thin line as he bit back a torrent of curses. His heart was pounding so fast it felt like it might leap out of his chest, and his face was flushed with anger.

The sheer audacity of that man! To think that he, the infamous alchemist Mo Yichen, was now the slave of some pretty boy with a penchant for intima..cy..ahem. It was enough to make him want to set something on fire.

After what felt like an eternity (or maybe just the time it takes to burn an incense stick), Mo Yichen took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside him. "Master," he began, his voice strained but as calm as he could manage, "what does this life-death relationship imply? I don't understand how some stranger I barely know could give me this… this bizarre thing. And if my guess is right, does it mean that if I die, that person will perish too?"

Bai Xuan looked at him like he was the dumbest person in the entire cultivation world. "Do you think everyone is as stupid as you?" the old man snapped, his tone dripping with disdain. "This life-death relationship coincides with a slave-master contract. If the slave dies, it will barely affect the master. But if the master dies, the slave will perish."

Mo Yichen's jaw dropped. "Wait, so you're saying I'm the—"

But before he could finish, Bai Xuan let out a loud "Hmph!" and vanished into thin air, leaving Mo Yichen standing there with his mouth hanging open like a fish out of water. The revelation hit him like a bolt of lightning, frying every last brain cell he had left.

"T-that fucking bastard!!!" Mo Yichen shouted, his voice echoing through the dimension. If he had known Yan Yeqing was such a piece of work, he wouldn't have saved him earlier that day! He should've left him to rot in whatever ditch he'd crawled out of.

Mo Yichen paced back and forth, muttering under his breath. 'Oh, Yichen, take this bracelet as a gift!' What kind of gift is this?! A one-way ticket to eternal servitude?!"

He stopped pacing, glaring at the black jade bangle on his wrist as it had personally insulted his ancestors (which it might have..ahem). "And to think I actually felt bad for him! 'Oh, he's injured, I should help him.' Help him, my foot! I should've kicked him while he was down!"

Mo Yichen flopped onto the ground, staring up at the grey sky of his dimensional space. 'This is what I get for being nice. This is what I get for not being a heartless jerk like everyone else in this godforsaken world.'

Note to self: next time someone looks like they're on the brink of death, walk away. No, run away. Screw heroics.

Mo Yichen sat back, rubbing his face in frustration. After a few deep breaths (and a silent vow to never trust a pretty face again), he finally managed to gather his scattered thoughts.

The situation had changed. Drastically. He glanced down at the jade bracelet on his wrist, the intricate golden dragon design mocking him with its elegance.

He sighed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. 'Alright, new plan: find Yan Yeqing, figure out how to undo this cursed bracelet, and then maybe punch him in the face. Repeatedly.'

As his mind raced, he couldn't help but think of the system. The system had mentioned something about this world being "buggy" or "off," but Mo Yichen had brushed it off at the time. Now, though, he wasn't so sure. "..whatever," he muttered, shaking his head. "one existential crisis at a time, please."

Just as he was about to spiral into another rant about the unfairness of life, something caught his eye. He turned his head, and a sudden glint of curiosity flashed in his eyes. There, in the corner of his dimensional space, were the twenty-something low to medium-grade herbs he'd harvested in the forest.

Back then, he hadn't thought much of them. His sole focus had been on strengthening his cultivation, and he'd just planted the herbs haphazardly, hoping to get some seeds for later use. But now, as he walked closer, he couldn't help but be astonished.

The herbs were glowing!!