Chapter 2: The Mystery of the Blood Porcelain

The air in the altar was like solidified blood, damp and bone-chilling. Red stains on the stone bricks twisted into eerie patterns, as if they were breathing. A blood porcelain bottle floated in the center of the altar, its red glow flickering. The sound of tapping grew from a low thrum to a frantic pace, like someone scratching with their nails inside the bottle. Jiang Hao gripped the bloodstained stone knife he had pulled from the hidden compartment. His ears rang like a tide, and his mind was filled with fragments of anger—screams, curses, and the muffled sound of skulls cracking. He gritted his teeth, cold sweat beading on his forehead, growling, "This thing is screaming for help."

Lin Yao stood at the edge of the altar, her fingers swiftly tracing the ritualistic text on the wall. Her gaze was as cold as ice. She glanced at Jiang Hao and spoke sharply, "Screaming for help? Don't be so full of yourself. That's resentment." She pointed to the carvings on the ritual text. "These are sacrificial symbols from the late Shang dynasty, used for blood sacrifices. The bottle is a vessel to seal souls. The knife in your hand is probably an execution tool."

"Execution?" Jiang Hao sneered, shaking the stone knife. The dried blood on its blade gleamed coldly in the red light. "This soul's pretty unlucky. Died and got locked up in this broken bottle." He took a step forward, his shadow stretching long across the altar. Behind him, a blurry outline appeared, as if mimicking him.

"Watch out!" Lin Yao shouted. Just as her words fell, the shadow suddenly accelerated, raising an arm as if to strike Jiang Hao. She rushed forward, grabbing his arm and pulling him backward with a force strong enough to make him stagger a step. The two collided. Lin Yao glared at him. "Idiot, can't you see? The shadow is moving!"

Jiang Hao shook off her hand, rubbing his shoulder as his temper flared. "Bookworm, stop interfering with me! I can handle it myself." He turned and glared at the shadow, which had now stopped, frozen in mid-air, like it had been paused. The ringing in his ears intensified, and he vaguely heard a whisper, "Kill him... kill him..." The voice came from the bottle, like a poisonous snake slithering into his ear.

Lin Yao ignored his taunts and crouched down, staring at the last line of the ritual text, whispering, "'Seal resentment with blood, calm souls with porcelain, the priest's hand, forever imprisoned.'" She frowned and looked up at the blood porcelain bottle. "This isn't just a ritual tool. The priest intentionally sealed a vengeful soul inside. It could be a traitor or an enemy. The thing in the bottle wants out for revenge."

"Revenge?" Jiang Hao narrowed his eyes, gripping the stone knife tighter. "Then it's got the wrong target." He walked toward the blood porcelain bottle, the blade of the knife pointed at the bottle's mouth. The anger in the ringing grew clearer, like someone was roaring, "Let me out!" He growled, "Fine, I'll let you out, let's see what you can do!" With that, he raised his hand, about to smash the bottle.

"Don't!" Lin Yao lunged forward, grabbing his wrist with a surprising amount of strength. "Are you crazy? If you smash it, we might get trapped here too!" She panted, glaring at him. "Idiot, use your brain. This isn't a physical problem; it's a ritual. You have to follow the rules."

Jiang Hao shot her a glare, his wrist aching from her grip, but his anger wouldn't subside. "Rules? Go ahead, tell me the rules, bookworm, don't just shout." He shook her off and stepped back, his head spinning from the ringing in his ears. A blurry image flashed before his eyes— a masked priest, holding the blood porcelain bottle, violently smashing it onto a kneeling person. Blood sprayed everywhere, and resentment rose like a dark fog.

Lin Yao ignored his mockery, pointing to the ritual text. "The rules are here. 'Seal resentment with blood.' To break it, you need to use blood to draw it out and then seal it back." She picked up a broken stone from the ground, gritted her teeth, and made a cut on her finger. Blood dripped onto the altar, and it was instantly absorbed by the stone bricks. The tapping sound from the blood porcelain bottle stopped, replaced by a sharp, eerie scream. Black mist poured from the bottle's mouth, forming a blurry human shape, bloodied and filled with malice.

"It's you!" The figure lunged at Jiang Hao with the speed of the wind. Jiang Hao reacted even faster, sidestepping and swinging the stone knife. The blade cut through the black mist, and the figure let out a blood-curdling scream, retreating back toward the bottle. Jiang Hao sneered, "No substance, still acting tough?"

Lin Yao furrowed her brow and muttered, "Don't get cocky. It's not dead." She quickly flipped through her notebook, found a page with symbols, tore it off, and covered it with blood before tossing it at the shadow. The symbol ignited in mid-air, forming a red light that surrounded the black mist. The figure struggled and howled, but its voice weakened, and it was eventually sucked back into the blood porcelain bottle. The bottle dropped back onto the altar, the red light faded, and the tapping stopped completely.

"Is it over?" Jiang Hao panted, the ringing in his ears finally ceasing. He glanced at Lin Yao. Her face was pale, and blood still dripped from her finger. He frowned. "Bookworm, you're not bad."

Lin Yao snorted. "A bit better than you, idiot." She tore a piece from her sleeve to wrap around her wound and looked up at the altar. The shadow was still there, but it wasn't moving, frozen in place. Time, however, began to warp. The stone bricks at the altar's edge cracked erratically, like being struck by a hammer and then rewound in reverse.

Suddenly, the intercom crackled to life. Lao Zhong's voice came through, filled with static. "The crack in the bottle is fixed. It's all yours." As soon as he finished speaking, the wooden door rattled, and a perfectly repaired blood porcelain bottle flew out, landing at Jiang Hao's feet. The bottle was still a deep red, but the red marks no longer moved, as if sealed shut.

Just then, the voice of the deity echoed once again, gentle yet cold. "Archive, or destroy." The tone was like a cold blade cutting through the air, carrying a hint of mockery. The altar suddenly collapsed with a deafening roar. The scene shifted, and the two of them were expelled back to the backyard of the Sui Bao Zhai. The blood porcelain bottle lay quietly on the table. Lin Yao and Jiang Hao exchanged a glance, still panting.

"Archive, or destroy?" Jiang Hao frowned and muttered, "What does that mean?"

Lin Yao rubbed her wrist and said coldly, "Don't ask me. I don't want to go back in there." She looked toward the wooden door. The black mist had dissipated, but a faint red glow could still be seen through the crack, as if something was watching them.