"Auntie Jar, Auntie Jar, eat heartily, drink deeply..."
The peddler freed his right hand, grabbed a rattle drum, and shook it vigorously.
His gaze towards Hu Ma was filled with intense malice, his voice dripping with venom.
Yet, his words were oddly soft, almost as if he were coaxing someone, whispering, "Eat and drink your fill, and then deal with this one..."
"He's a Shousui person, his flesh and blood are highly nourishing..."
He had a keen eye.
When he first saw the belt around Hu Ma's waist, he knew he was a disciple of the Red Lantern Lady's sect.
But since the belt was green and lacked any patterns, he didn't pay much attention.
Little did he know, although Hu Ma appeared as a green incense disciple, he had already been promoted to a steward.
The corresponding belt just hadn't been delivered to the village yet, so he was making do with the old one.
As for the villagers' habit of calling everyone "little steward," it had nothing to do with whether they were actual stewards or not.
What he hadn't anticipated was that Hu Ma, despite his youth, had already learned the ways of the Shousui.
Of course, he hadn't expected it earlier, but now, seeing Hu Ma poisoned yet still standing, he had figured it out.
As the peddler continued his incessant muttering, the sound of something gulping blood from the jar grew clearer.
The rattle drum kept up its rhythmic clatter, and the surrounding night grew colder.
Even the dazed children nearby seemed affected, joining in the chant: "Auntie Jar, Auntie Jar..."
Their innocent voices sounded particularly eerie in the night.
"Auntie Jar? What kind of trick is this?" Hu Ma felt a surge of determination, wanting to slash at the peddler with his knife.
But an instinctive sense of danger warned him otherwise.
The jar, no more than twenty pounds, seemed too small to hold anything significant, yet whatever was inside sent shivers down his spine, filling him with a strong sense of peril.
His right hand still gripped the knife, while his left hand quietly unsheathed a wooden sword, hiding it behind his back as he cautiously approached.
His right hand was for killing, his left for slaying ghosts—both had to be ready.
"Whoosh!" Just as Hu Ma was about to close the distance, something unexpected happened.
As the peddler continued his incantations, a small hand suddenly shot out from the jar, grabbing the peddler's dangling arm and yanking it inside, where it was devoured with a sickening crunch.
The peddler screamed in agony, his face twisted in madness, yet he kept shaking the rattle drum.
"Swish!" Seizing the opportunity, Hu Ma didn't dare delay any longer.
The longer he waited, the more sinister the peddler's ritual might become.
He lunged forward, his steel blade poised to strike.
But just then, a sharp pain shot through his leg, causing him to stumble.
Looking down, he saw a chunk of flesh had been torn from his left thigh, blood gushing out.
In the pitch-black night, something unseen had attacked him, sending a chill down his spine.
Gritting his teeth, he pressed on, but before he could raise his arm, his right arm went numb, another piece of flesh bitten away.
The wound felt icy and piercing, the coldness seeping deeper.
"What kind of demon is this?" Hu Ma was genuinely shocked but forced himself to stay calm.
He swung the wooden sword in his left hand with all his might.
"Whoosh, whoosh!" With each swing, something invisible seemed to retreat from his side.
But it didn't leave entirely, lurking nearby, watching him intently.
He couldn't see it, but it would strike without warning, biting him when he least expected it.
The eerie situation was enough to make his blood run cold, but he clenched his teeth and held on.
Facing evil, fear was the first step to defeat.
If he lost his composure, he'd be as good as dead.
At this moment, he could only summon his inner fire, using the red wooden sword to protect himself as he stared ahead.
The peddler, seeing Hu Ma's wounds, grinned maliciously, shaking the rattle drum even more vigorously, the rhythm almost dizzying.
From the jar came a series of eerie, shrill laughs, and a cold wind swirled around it, making Hu Ma shiver.
"The strange thing is in the jar..."
Hu Ma tightened his grip on the red wooden sword, took a deep breath, and thrust it forward with all his might.
It was now or never—either he would pierce the jar and kill whatever was inside, or he'd be devoured by this sinister creature in the dark night.
"Hehe..."
As Hu Ma's sword shot forward, infused with his inner fire, the thing in the jar seemed to sense the danger and let out a faint, chilling laugh that seemed to worm its way into his ears.
At the same time, as Hu Ma's defenses faltered, his waist and shoulders were repeatedly bitten by unseen entities, tearing off chunks of flesh.
But Hu Ma, driven by sheer will, kept his left hand steady, thrusting the sword straight into the jar.
"Snap!" Just as the sword was about to strike, a pale, boneless hand shot out from the jar, gripping the wooden sword.
The hand sizzled and smoked upon contact, but it held firm.
Hu Ma, knowing the stakes, poured all his strength into the thrust, stepping forward to push the sword deeper.
"Brother Hu Ma!" At that moment, a clear voice called out, and a red figure darted from the side.
It was Little Hong Tang, who leaped onto the jar, using it as a springboard to tackle Hu Ma to the ground.
The jar tumbled away, landing a few feet off, but it righted itself, wobbling precariously.
From the shadows, something wailed mournfully, and countless unseen things lunged at Hu Ma, biting at him.
"Grrr..."
But just then, a gust of foul wind swept through, and from the dark fields on either side of the road, a massive black dog burst forth.
It was only a few seconds behind Little Hong Tang, charging into the fray.
With a powerful leap, it knocked the jar to the ground, cracking it open.
A shrill scream erupted from within as the thing inside—Auntie Jar—emerged halfway, engaging in a vicious struggle with the black dog.
The dog was ferocious, tearing and biting with savage intensity.
"That's... that's..."
The peddler, witnessing this, turned pale and scrambled to his feet, trying to flee.
But before he could get far, he saw a slightly plump, grim-faced old man blocking his path.
The old man's eyes burned with anger as he bellowed, "You scum from the Jar Sect, you dare return?"
The peddler, panicking, tried to run in another direction, but his injured leg slowed him down.
Desperate, he raised a doll in his hand, which suddenly opened its mouth and spat out a flurry of needles.
"Whoosh!" The old man blew the needles away with a single breath, his fury intensifying.
He reached out, grabbing the peddler by the face.
"Old Shopkeeper?" Seeing Little Hong Tang appear, Hu Ma felt a surge of relief.
And now, with the old shopkeeper here, his worries vanished.
Thank goodness the old man arrived in time... otherwise, he would have had to reveal his true strength!
That Auntie Jar was no ordinary foe—its power was immense.
Hu Ma usually hid his true cultivation, only using the strength equivalent to one stick of incense.
In his spiritual temple, only one stick burned in the incense burner, while the other two remained unlit.
But tonight, even that one stick wasn't enough to handle Auntie Jar.
If Little Hong Tang had been a moment later, Hu Ma would have had to light all three sticks at once.
The process was simple—just a thought, and all three sticks would burn simultaneously.
But doing so would have exposed his hidden strength to the old shopkeeper...
"Thank goodness for Little Hong Tang..."
Hu Ma thought, feeling a mix of relief and curiosity.
"What is that black dog?" He had never seen a dog in the old shopkeeper's inner courtyard before.
As the battle raged on, Hu Ma quickly got to his feet, glancing around.
Seeing that his help wasn't needed, he gathered the still-dazed children, ordering Little Hong Tang to watch over them.
Then he turned his attention to the fight.
The black dog was ferocious, tearing the thing inside the jar to shreds.
Meanwhile, the old shopkeeper had the upper hand.
The peddler, already injured by Hu Ma, was no match for the old man.
His needles, the poison hidden in his sleeves—all were methodically countered by the cold-faced old shopkeeper.
The peddler cried out for Auntie Jar, but there was no response, only further enraging the old man.
The old shopkeeper, whom Hu Ma usually saw as indifferent and unfeeling, even when lives were lost, now seemed like a completely different person.
He crushed the peddler's right arm and the rattle drum, then hoisted him up by the neck.
After a few harsh questions, and seeing the peddler refuse to answer, the old man slammed him headfirst into the ground, his skull sinking into his chest.
"Kidnapping and mutilating children—you deserve death ten thousand times over!"
Seeing the old shopkeeper's wrath, Hu Ma felt a chill run down his spine.
He steadied himself and approached.
Just as he was about to speak, he heard a woman's voice call out from nearby: "Father, they've really returned..."
Hu Ma turned, his scalp tingling.
The voice came from the black dog—or rather, from the shopkeeper's daughter, Wu He.
Her body was that of a large black dog, but her head protruded from the canine form, looking especially bizarre in the dim light of the night.
(End of Chapter)