The whispering rang out inside his eardrums like a needle piercing straight through his brain. Lam An clutched both ears and collapsed to his knees beside Master Vu's body. The voice wasn't traveling through the air. It was leaking from inside his own head—the eerie, echoing sound of the Ear Chest.
Forcing down his grief, An bowed his head three times before Master Vu. He hurriedly shoved the Six-Chest Curse-Sealing Art and the bronze snake-head ring into his backpack, covered his master's body with a tablecloth, and bolted out of the house. He knew he couldn't collapse here; the snake-masked man was still watching his every move.
Dawn was breaking. An caught the earliest ride back to downtown Pho Co.
Throughout the journey, the whispering in his ears never stopped. It wasn't just a human voice but a cacophony of countless sounds: knives chopping against a cutting board, a newborn's strangled cries, someone cursing viciously, and the roaring of ocean waves. The Ear Chest was forcing An to listen to all the grudge energy in the world.
When he reached Pho Co, An followed the address Master Vu had left him and went deep into a narrow alley barely wide enough for one person. At the very end of the alley stood a two-story wooden house built in an old-fashioned style. Above it hung a black-lacquered wooden sign carved with three faded gold characters: Yin-Yang Antique Shop.
An pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside.
*Ding-a-ling...*
The bronze wind chime rang out clear and sweet. From the moment An crossed the threshold, all the maddening whispers in his ears abruptly died away, leaving behind absolute silence.
The shop carried a faint, soothing scent of incense. Hundreds of strange antiques were arranged throughout the room: blue-and-white ceramic plates, jade-stone Buddha statues, tarnished bronze mirrors, and scrolls of ink-wash paintings hanging along the walls.
"The shop isn't open yet. Please come back later."
A clear, chilly voice came from behind a bamboo-bead curtain.
A young woman stepped out. She wore a modern-style jade-green áo dài, her jet-black hair neatly pinned back with a silver lotus hairpin. Her features were delicate, but her eyes were razor-sharp, and the aura she carried seemed far beyond what one would expect from a woman in her twenties. This was Moc Tra.
Exhausted, An took off his backpack and pulled out the bronze snake-head ring, placing it on the wooden table.
"I'm Lam An. Master Vu... Master Vu has passed away. He told me to come find you."
At the sight of the bronze ring, Moc Tra's eyes changed subtly. She hurried over, picked it up, and examined it carefully before looking up at An. With her keen eyes, she immediately noticed the faint gray wisps swirling around both his ears.
"Master Vu is gone...?" Moc Tra sighed, a deep sadness flashing through her eyes. She pointed at a chair. "Sit down, kid. You just broke the seal on the Eye Chest, but accidentally activated the Ear Chest too, didn't you?"
"How did you know?" An asked, stunned.
Moc Tra poured a cup of chrysanthemum tea and pushed it toward An.
"The Yin-Yang Antique Shop has always guarded the balance between the two realms. Master Vu was my martial uncle. The Six Bronze Chests aren't a legend. They're the source of the Six-Root Wooden Calamity—the most evil ancient art sealed away since the Nguyen dynasty."
Moc Tra took a sip of tea and continued, her tone utterly serious:
"The Eye Chest takes away your sight so you can see ghosts and demons. But the Ear Chest is many times more dangerous. It will force you to hear the 'Voice of Underworld Truth.' If you don't find the second chest and seal it within seven days, that sound will rupture your eardrums and drive your brain into madness until you take your own life!"
An tightened his grip around the teacup, feeling the weight of the curse. "Then where is the second chest—the Ear Chest—now?"
Moc Tra stood and walked to a narrow wooden bookshelf. She pulled out an old parchment map and spread it across the table.
"Thirty years ago, the Ear Chest was bought by an old cải lương troupe. After the troupe burned to the ground for unknown reasons one night at the Dai Nam Abandoned Theater, the chest disappeared. But last night, when you were struck by the Ear Chest's power, the sealing lamp in my shop lit up, pointing toward that theater."
Moc Tra looked straight into An's eyes and smiled mysteriously.
"Pack your things, Lam An. Tonight, you and I are going to see a cải lương show for the dead!"