A strange sense of reverence swelled in my heart; two millennia of sweeping changes seemed compressed into an instant, a truly peculiar feeling.

The base of the door was shrouded in thick moss, and damp beads of water clung beneath the jamb, clearly indicating the interior must be exceedingly humid.

Several of us combined our strength to push the door, sweating profusely, only to find it wouldn't budge an inch.

I felt a peculiar sense of confusion, wondering if there was some hidden mechanism involved. I immediately lit a torch to examine the door closely.

Although the lower carvings of the totems were almost entirely obscured, I could still make out the upper portion.

It was an ancient glyph etched onto the stone with bold, vigorous strokes—a massive tiger face, yet possessing human eyes and a nose. The entire design was rendered with simple, raw lines, exuding an ancient, powerful aura.

As someone who had studied ancient texts, I recalled seeing similar glyphs in a book; this must be the Tiger-Faced God worshipped by the ancient Yi people.

In ancient times, many tribes deified venomous insects and ferocious beasts, reasoning that since a mere bite from them could so easily kill a person, these creatures must be celestial beings capable of controlling life and death.

For example, the ancient Miao people revered centipedes and venomous snakes, while the Yi worshipped the tiger.

I had long heard that the Black Bamboo Valley was once inhabited by the ancestors of the Ebian Yi. My thought confirmed this was true; we were likely standing within the tomb of an ancient Yi ancestor.

Though I rarely attended classes, I knew the Ebian Yi had been a very minor branch in ancient times; they shouldn't have possessed the power to carve tombs into mountains…

At this point, everyone gathered around again, putting their full weight into pushing the fan-shaped door. But it remained utterly immobile, seemingly weighing at least a hundred tons, perhaps even locked from the inside by some mechanism—it might not yield even to powerful explosives.

The warriors conferred amongst themselves, finding no effective way to open the stone barrier.

As everyone pondered, we heard Dongzi exclaim, "Yi?" from behind us.

My thoughts were broken, and I rushed to see what she had discovered.

All eyes instantly fixed on Dongzi. Her youthful face flushed slightly as she said, "I think there are marks here on the ground, like something was dragged across it."

We all peered down again and indeed spotted two curved scratches extending from where the two door panels met, right up to our feet.

At that moment, enlightenment struck everyone. Someone shouted, "Damn it! This door pulls open! No wonder pushing did nothing!"

I could only offer a wry smile, thinking that in a place this bizarre, everyone's nerves were nearly frayed, turning simple matters unnecessarily complicated.

If the mechanism could reveal this hidden door, why would they design an additional mechanism on the door itself? If it was truly meant to remain sealed, they might as well have simply built it shut, preventing anyone from entering entirely.

But we couldn't entirely blame ourselves; exterior-opening doors usually feature a handle or ring to facilitate opening. This door was starkly bare, naturally leading one to assume it was an inwardly opening portal.

Lao Huang, who had also observed this, noticed my contemplation and remarked to me, "The strangeness of this door, I suspect, is because it was never intended for the living."

I nodded and replied, "Now we know how it opens, but without a handle, we still can't budge such a heavy door."

Lao Huang habitually wiped his pistol, thought for a moment, and finally shook his head.

Just as everyone felt utterly stumped, we suddenly heard a distinct, dull thud: "Dong."

The sound was profoundly muffled, as if something heavy were striking the door from within.

We exchanged uneasy glances, startled, and all instinctively took a step back.

Before we could process it, another muffled thud echoed from inside.

"Dong!" This time it was sharper, and with the sound, the stone door actually vibrated slightly, shifting outward by half an inch, revealing a sliver of an opening.

With each subsequent impact, the gap in the stone door widened. I suddenly felt overwhelmed and unsure of what to do.

We didn't know what dangers lurked inside; I had intended to investigate further, at least waiting until we were fully prepared before entering. But the current situation allowed us no time for contemplation.

My mind raced—was it anticipation, fear, or something else entirely? I almost wanted to rush forward and slam the door shut again.

But clearly, I was out of time. All I could do was step back and confront an immediate, terrifying question: "Who is pushing? Is it those Americans, or a thousand-year-old zombie emerging from the tomb? Why are they opening it by battering it like this?"

Sweat beaded on my forehead, and I instinctively retreated another step.

I had already encountered so many unimaginable things in this ancient tomb that if Stephen Chow himself were to spring out, I wouldn't be overly surprised.

However, once the door was forced open just wide enough for a single person to pass through, the battering stopped.

Every one of us held our breath, staring fixedly at the gap, a sheen of sweat slowly forming on our brows.

But after about a minute, there was still no movement from inside the door.

Then I noticed a stream of white mist slowly seeping out from beneath the door crack.

I didn't know if the mist was poisonous, but it instantly reminded me of what Da Xiong had told me earlier—that he had seen a pair of flashlight-like eyes glowing within a dense fog in a secret passage.

"Could it be... the monster is coming out?" My hand sweated around the grip of my gun. I swallowed with difficulty and stepped back another pace.

Just then, a voice called from inside: "Save me..."

Everyone flinched upon hearing it; the voice sounded as if it dragged itself up from hell, saturated with the scent of death.

"Save me..." The voice repeated, incredibly hoarse, sending shivers down the spine.

The group exchanged glances. Despite the lingering cold sweat, several people slowly walked forward, murmuring, "Someone must be hurt. Let’s go save them quickly."

The instant those few stepped forward, a profoundly ominous premonition gripped me.

Just as I was about to shout a warning, a piercing shriek tore through the air beside my ear—a terrible, nightmarish cry, like a tortured feline.

Then, a gigantic black hand suddenly surged out from the door gap!

I cannot adequately describe the sheer size of this hand; it descended like a massive net covering the heads of those individuals!

What followed was a cacophony of deafening "gegege" sounds, as if a chicken coop had exploded—the noise wasn't coming from one spot but converging from all directions, culminating in a roar that seemed ready to pierce our eardrums.

I watched as those few people were instantly crushed beneath the black hand, which then shattered into countless tiny black specks, scattering outwards.

One of the small black dots landed right at my feet. I looked down and was so terrified I almost disbelieved my own eyes.

It took me a full three seconds to react, then I screamed hoarsely, "Cover your mouths! Run!"

My voice barely sounded human, more like the clang of a broken gong, as absolute panic seized my entire being. I had no other thought left except "Run! Run!" because I saw that monstrous hand was not a hand at all, but a torrential flood composed of countless Ku Lóng insects.

I had no idea where so many venomous Ku Lóng had come from within this tomb, but each one of these supremely toxic creatures could mean instant death; under bad luck, a single Ku Lóng could easily kill a dozen people.

If one of these things entered your mouth, its venom would attack the heart, causing the skin on your face to claw itself apart, resulting in a death of excruciating agony.

I knew covering my mouth would temporarily save my life, and I turned to flee for my life.

But those slower to react clearly hadn't grasped my warning.

Lao Huang, standing next to me, actually let out a dry chuckle and said, "It's just a bunch of toads, what are you scared of..."

Before he could finish the word "scared," several black shadows zipped rapidly into his open mouth.

He immediately clutched his throat, his face instantly contorted, staring at me with an expression of absolute horror, as if a thousand unspoken words were caught in his gullet.