We kept chatting and laughing all the way, and with the scenery being so nice, our spirits lifted considerably. But * always said, happy times pass all too quickly.

As we traversed deeper into the shrine grounds along the central avenue, we were suddenly blocked by a corridor-like expanse of lush green bamboo forest. It wasn’t really bad luck, though; the worst part was that before even entering the woods, we spotted piles of bones scattered everywhere inside, mostly animal skeletons, literally carpeting the ground.

Some of the flesh and bone had already rotted to a yellow hue, while others still clung to decaying meat, emitting waves of foul stench. There was no ambush, no conspiracy; this bamboo grove was clearly broadcasting a warning: danger ahead.

Daxiong stared at the layer of bones coating the floor and cursed, “Damn it, do they use corpses to fertilize these bamboos here? No wonder they’re growing so vigorously.” I looked up, and sure enough, just as he said, the bamboo here was denser and taller.

Because they hadn't been trimmed for so long, the accumulated leaves on each stalk looked like small hills. Although I didn't know what kind of bamboo absorbed nutrients from dead bodies, the soil here was clearly nourished by long-term exposure to skeletons, making it look extremely fertile.

“Do you think this is an unmarked graveyard or a monster’s lair?” Nie Chuan asked me. I shook my head and replied, “I don’t know.

We’ll find out once we go in.” “Go in? What if there are ghosts?” Daxiong took a step back, his face grave.

I smiled slightly and said to him, “Ghosts don’t eat people. Souls have no physical form; where would they store the flesh they eat?

So, stories about ghosts eating people are all lies to scare you.” Daxiong heard this, thought hard, and then declared, “Alright then, as long as there are no ghosts, I’m not afraid of anything.” I nodded to Nie Chuan, signaling that we should proceed once we were ready. Daxiong fished out a Mojin Charm from somewhere and hung it around his neck for warding off evil.

I knew it was fake, but I didn't say anything. Nie Chuan, meanwhile, pulled out a dried black donkey’s hoof, which brought back a flood of familiar memories for me.

Next was me. I took nothing, just plunged headlong into the grove.

In the past, when I appeared as Nie Chuan, I always stayed at the back. But now, being *, the most experienced and capable fighter in the group, I had to take the lead.

Truthfully, being upfront felt quite good, because the feeling of protecting others is always satisfying. Just as I was smugly making hand signals behind me, telling them to keep up, Daxiong suddenly shrieked, looking above my head, terrified to the point of nearly collapsing.

I jolted, hurriedly looking back up, and saw something whitish swooping down towards me. I hadn't expected it to move so fast, launching its attack the moment we entered the forest.

The old me would definitely have landed on my backside in fright, but now that I was *, I forcibly calmed myself and rolled to the side, dodging it just in time. The thing ignored me completely, soaring over my head and lunging for Daxiong.

Its movement was strangely buoyant, which made the hair on my scalp stand on end. Daxiong was frozen in place, too scared to move.

I shouted a warning from behind, but it was too late. However, just as the thing was about to touch Daxiong, it abruptly halted.

I found this bizarre, but before I could react, it seemed to turn and collide with me using its back. This time, I didn’t roll.

I thought, You really look down on me, daring to come at me with your back! So, I drew the military knife I always carried from my waist and stabbed straight into its back center.

I thought to myself, never mind if you’re a ghost or whatever, take a knife first. But when my blade sank solidly into the thing’s back, there was neither the imagined scream nor the feeling of piercing empty air, but rather a soft, flabby resistance.

I was mystified. I pulled the knife out and saw dark, tiny pellets oozing from the puncture wound.

I took a step back, thinking it might be some kind of insect, but upon closer inspection, I realized it was moldy grain. Nie Chuan, wiping cold sweat from his brow, was already chuckling and said, “Don’t be nervous, it’s a scarecrow.” Hearing him, I felt a bit relieved.

Looking up, sure enough, this figure with messy hair, made of white cloth, was suspended from a bamboo stalk by a rope. But the thing wasn’t light; in the absence of strong wind, it should have remained still, so why had it swung just now as if on a swing?

Filled with doubt, I looked around and found no one within sight. Then I circled around to the front of the scarecrow and saw that it was extremely malformed.

Its belly was huge, stuffed full of grain, while its head was relatively small; it had no legs. The hair on its head, messy and straggly, seemed to be made from some kind of animal fur, and its eyes were two small wooden buttons.

The most striking feature was at the scarecrow’s navel, where someone had painted a crossed-out symbol in red pigment—its meaning unknown. “Look over there, there seem to be many more,” Daxiong said, recovering his composure and pointing into the distance.

We looked, and indeed, many such white scarecrows hung from the surrounding bamboo, though the others were much smaller, resembling wind chimes, scattered throughout the forest, swaying gently in the slight breeze. Seeing these things reminded me of an old cartoon I watched as a child, Ikkyū-san, which featured similar figures.

But what the purpose of these scarecrows was, I still hadn't figured out. All I knew was that in certain regions of Southeast Asia, there was a type of dark magic that used effigies to curse people.

In any case, seeing these objects here did not evoke the cute feeling of Ikkyū-san; it was far more unsettling. As I was staring, Nie Chuan said again, “Look here, what is this?” I quickly turned to see where Nie Chuan was pointing: on the chest of the large effigy, there was what looked like a dark handprint.

Looking closely, I confirmed my guess that it was a handprint, and we noticed other handprints in different places too. These prints weren't large.

I compared them with my own hand and found they were significantly smaller—possibly left by a child. But how could there be a child in such a bizarre bamboo forest?

“There really are ghosts after all,” Daxiong’s ashen face turned pale again. “Didn’t we just see that it swung on its own without anyone pushing it?

I bet a little ghost pushed it, look, the handprint is still there.” As soon as he finished speaking, a rustling sound came from the bamboo grove to our front left. The sound was faint and quick, likely caused by someone running, stepping on the bones and dry leaves on the ground.

“Th-there’s… someone, no, a ghost…” Daxiong looked over there, recoiling in fear. I exchanged a look with Nie Chuan; his eyes mirrored mine—the shared intent was to pursue and investigate.

So, we left the wailing Daxiong behind and chased after the sound. Seeing us leave, Daxiong stopped his caterwauling and hurried to follow.

After all, being alone was scarier than encountering a ghost. People say humans fear ghosts, but ghosts fear humans too.

As long as people dare to look directly at these things, they will actually hide away. Thus, when the three of us rushed forward in pursuit, we saw nothing; whatever it was had already fled far away.

“Gentlemen, let’s stop chasing them. What good would it do even if we caught up?

We should hurry through this grove and get to the main business,” Daxiong urged us. We knew Daxiong was right.

Although this thing might have been playing tricks on us, we shouldn't invite more trouble upon ourselves. With that thought, we all stopped the chase, fixed our direction, and continued moving north.

Strangely, the animal carcasses seemed concentrated only on the periphery of the bamboo forest. The deeper we went into the grove, the fewer bones we encountered.

Instead, many of the older bamboo stalks had withered and died, laying down layer upon layer of yellow leaves. Stepping on them was soft and sinking nearly to our calves, making progress very difficult.

As we walked, the bamboo ahead grew sparser and sparser. I felt a secret joy, guessing we must be nearing the end of the grove.

But then, we saw that the space ahead only opened up into a clearing.