The only things I could link to the chains were those wrapped around the wrists of the statues. I’ve seen plenty of zongzi, but a moving stone sculpture is something I truly cannot begin to imagine.

After a stunned two seconds, I immediately flicked my lighter and spun around to look behind me. The swirling, thick mist seemed to genuinely conceal something moving within it.

“Clink, clink…” The crisp sound of chains rang out again, and I felt they were closer this time! Almost purely on instinct, I sidestepped and ducked behind a nearby sculpture.

Before me was a darkness as thick as ink; I could only strain my ears to listen. Soon, the sound of a stumbling gait began.

This gait was incredibly labored, with long pauses between each step. My mind immediately conjured the image of a dying person struggling to move their feet.

I was intensely curious about who could possibly be appearing here. If it were someone I knew, they obviously needed my help.

However, I quickly dismissed the notion of helping this person. Because as I listened closely, I realized that with every subtle movement the person made, there was the faint sound of chains rattling.

I was startled, wondering if this person was wearing shackles or bound by iron chains? If that were the case, this person must be a prisoner, but how could a prisoner be here in these ancient ruins that haven't seen the light of day for a millennium?

I couldn't help but recall the tribespeople used for blood sacrifice in the Wei Wang Bo Shu, who, if disobedient, were marched to the execution ground wearing shackles like criminals. Thinking of this, my heart leaped into my throat.

Damn it, this time I’m definitely seeing a ghost. The wronged souls of the Wei tribe haven't left!

As I was thinking, another set of shuffling footsteps suddenly sounded, moving slightly faster than the first. Before I could react, more footsteps erupted.

The cacophony of footsteps, accompanied by the jingle of chains, flooded the entire dark space from all directions—the kind of sound produced by at least a thousand people. I felt like I was suffocating.

I hadn't seen a ghost in over twenty years, and my first encounter involved this many. What terrible luck.

The footsteps grew louder from all sides, interspersed with cries and murmurs. Though I couldn't decipher their words, I felt their despair and helplessness.

I heard countless figures rustling past me. Several times I reached for my lighter, but ultimately restrained the urge.

After about ten minutes, I heard the footsteps gradually receding into the distance, and only then did I let out a breath, wiping the cold sweat from my brow. I remembered a story a Yunnan tour guide told me years ago, about a place in Yunnan that was frequently haunted—a place many people probably knew.

This location was in Luliang, Yunnan, specifically at the War Horse Slope of Jingmashui. Whenever there was thunder, rain, or changing weather, people could hear the neighing of warhorses and the clash of metal weapons.

At first, everyone was terrified, thinking it was the work of ghostly soldiers. Later, after scientific research, it was discovered that the local soil contained silicon used for making magnetic tapes, along with large amounts of magnetite, capable of recording ancient events and replaying them under specific environmental conditions.

I had read similar materials before and had considered this possibility just now, but experiencing it firsthand still drenched me in a cold sweat. I resolved in my mind that this was merely a natural phenomenon, which gave me more confidence.

Composing myself, I planned to follow and investigate. So, once I was certain that the things had moved far enough away, I lit the lighter and slowly trailed after them.

As the saying goes, when a person is unlucky, even drinking water will choke them. The moment I lit the lighter and took two steps forward, I saw a figure standing not far ahead, its back to me, slowly walking forward.

I froze, not yet processing the sight, when the person seemed to sense the light behind them and slowly turned their head. In that turn, I saw a face crisscrossed with deep lines, a pair of vacant eyes staring at me like those of a dead person, their expression utterly rigid.

However, I felt no fear at all; instead, a profound shock overwhelmed me, and tears streamed down uncontrollably. I shouted, "Grandpa!

What's wrong with you!" and rushed forward, throwing my arms around the skeletal old man. Seeing it was me, a faint glimmer of life returned to Grandpa’s eyes.

He gasped a few times, and his thin, withered hands slowly rose to cup my face as he stuttered, "Xiao Chuan... quick, quick, go save everyone.

Ghost Eye, Ghost Eye…" He spoke only a few words before beginning to gasp heavily again. Fearing he couldn't catch his breath, I helped steady him, saying, "Grandpa, rest a moment, take your time." I unhooked my canteen and gave him a few sips.

After regaining some composure, Grandpa said, "No time, quickly, go forward." Seeing the urgency, though utterly bewildered, I had no choice but to hoist Grandpa onto my back and move forward quickly. Grandpa was not well; he kept coughing into my shoulder, then fumbled around for a moment before handing me a flashlight.

I turned on the flashlight. Its beam was much stronger than the lighter's, allowing me to clearly see a two-meter-wide bluestone path beneath my feet.

On either side loomed the shadowy silhouettes of massive stone sculptures, each holding a different weapon in one hand while the other was stretched forward. The beam of light cast flickering shadows on these giant statues, their fierce visages appearing incredibly eerie.

I continuously scanned the surroundings and soon spotted numerous bloodstains on the ground. These stains were not yet dry; where shoes had stepped on them, dense, countless bloody footprints formed.

I deliberately stepped on one and found the blood still tacky—this was clearly no illusion! My breathing grew rapid.

The group that had passed through here moments ago were living people. How could so many people have arrived at this place?

It was simply inconceivable. But the current situation didn't allow for deep thought; I moved forward almost at a jog.

After running for an indeterminate time, I saw a colossal dark shadow emerging ahead. I had never imagined such a gigantic sculpture existing within these ancient ruins; I was secretly astonished.

It was a Buddha statue, easily forty meters tall, almost filling the entire space before me. The posture was very unusual: the entire body was bent at a ninety-degree angle, one hand gripping a Vajra staff, the other reaching towards the ground with fingers pressed together.

The muscles on the entire arm were pronounced, the robes appeared to billow, giving the impression of immense, martial strength. This posture reminded me of the final killing move in one of Stephen Chow's movies—the Rulai Divine Palm descending from the heavens.

I shone the flashlight over it and realized the statue was carved into the stone wall from the waist down, while the upper body extended to the cave ceiling, accounting for this unique posture. The face of this Buddha was also different from others I had seen.

Though it had the long earlobes and large eyes typical of Buddhist figures, its expression was utterly ferocious—eyes wide open, teeth bared in a snarl. Its feet were positioned one in front of the other, treading upon a ferocious beast resembling a giant wolf.

Its limbs were splayed, the hind legs coiled as if ready to spring at any moment. Its mouthful of fangs and ferocious gaze inspired immediate dread.

Although I have little expertise in Buddhism, I know only two deities in heaven bring dogs along: Erlang Shen, and the even more formidable Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva. The dog Ksitigarbha accompanies is called Diting.

During the tale of the True and False Monkey King, even King Yama couldn't discern the real from the fake, but Diting recognized them instantly. Though it only uttered, "Heavenly secrets must not be revealed," its immense power was evident.

And this Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva, master of Diting, is one of the most powerful beings in the Three Realms, said to be second only to the Tathagata, specializing in subduing all manner of evil spirits and malevolent entities—none have ever resisted him. When I visited Mount Jiuhua, I saw a sculpture of Ksitigarbha; it was the most benevolent-looking deity I had ever encountered.

Yet, I had never witnessed such an enraged Ksitigarbha. Standing beneath this magnificent Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva, I felt profoundly shaken.

After a long pause, I swallowed hard and continued forward. Passing through the dense mist ahead, a sickeningly pungent odor of stale blood washed over me, making me gag.