Uncle Ming recounted Xiang's past experiences for us, even mentioning that Xiang's biological parents obtained their methods from secret Tibetan writings, which must be connected to the "Later Reincarnation Sect." When the British invaded Tibet, they plundered a vast amount of precious cultural relics and classics; it wouldn't be strange for the secret scripture of the "Later Reincarnation Sect" to have flowed overseas during that period. The scripture Uncle Ming possessed, detailing the Crystal Corpse of the Glacier, shared a similar fate. However, although Uncle Ming was shrewd, he didn't know the intricate origins of this "eye" mystery. It was only when recounting these matters that he realized those ancient texts, which modern people treat as methods for opening the tianmu (heavenly eye), might be related to this "Yaluo Hai City." After the fall of the Demon Kingdom, the custom of worshipping eyes became rare in Tibet, so this mysterious method of achieving tianmu in stillness was very likely used by the Demon Kingdom back then to screen for the Ghost Mothers. Though it's long impossible to confirm, it can be asserted that this secret method evolved and spread from at least the Karameer region.

I couldn't help but admire Shirley Yang's perceptiveness even more; she had already discerned some kind of clue. The reason she asked Uncle Ming about Xiang’s past earlier was precisely to understand the secret hidden within this mysterious colossus from a different angle. The blood lines in Xiang's pupils were almost identical to the totems here—there was some subtle connection between them. The piercing markings on the stone gate, the stone pillars in the subterranean canyon, these gloomy, oppressive stone chambers, and Xiang pointing at the wall saying there was a woman inside—by piecing these clues together, perhaps we could uncover the truth of this place.

Although we believed this might be a place where women who failed to grow "ghost eyes" were imprisoned and executed, I had a significant doubt from the very beginning that I never found a chance to voice to Shirley Yang: If the goal was to kill these people, why bother constructing such a massive project? Was it similar to the old regulations of the Central Plains dynasties, where executions were postponed until autumn? It seemed entirely unnecessary. This colossal statue probably couldn't have been built in less than a few hundred years. What was it truly for?

Currently trapped in this desperate situation, I still hoped for a turning point. Shirley Yang hadn't given up the belief in survival either; as long as we could figure out what kind of place this space was, maybe we could find a way out. Even though I knew escaping from here would require a miracle, the feeling of waiting for death was worse. We heard the slithering sounds of venomous snakes moving across the flagstones; in less than half an hour, they had caught up. There was only one entrance leading in, and although it was blocked by slabs, the swarm couldn't get through immediately—but how long could we last without food or water?

Hearing that the snakes had reached the level below, everyone felt a chill just thinking about those black snakes, and a wave of panic naturally washed over them. Uncle Ming also lost the mood to continue talking about Xiang. I urged him, "We've blocked the path; those venomous snakes won't get up right away. Uncle Ming, please continue talking about the two times Xiang shed bloody tears. She just shed bloody tears again—is there some similarity between those incidents?!"

When Uncle Ming heard my words, he thought there was some sense to it, so he began, "I still have nightmares about those incidents even now! Back then, I made a large sum of money and wanted to buy a decent residence. I set my sights on a house—the location and environment were good, the style was exquisite, and the price was right. We were about to finalize the purchase because the whole family went together—my two sons and Xiang were all with me. Unexpectedly, as soon as Xiang saw the house, two streams of bloody tears flowed from her eyes."

Uncle Ming knew that Xiang felt scared and uneasy when she reached places with heavy yin energy, so he hesitated slightly and postponed the house purchase for a few days. During those days, he found people to inquire about the history of that house. The owner was a rich widow who had lived there quietly for over a decade without incident. But a few days prior, she had suddenly died. She had no relatives, and the few cats she kept also died inexplicably that same day. Moreover, both the woman and the cats died with blood flowing from all seven orifices, yet it wasn't poisoning. The police never publicly disclosed the cause of death.

There was another time. Uncle Ming had acquired a porcelain jar—the clay was white and translucent, round and smooth, with a subtle yellowish patina shimmering beneath the white glaze. The decorations were sea beasts and eight treasures, and the inside of the lid bore some peculiar flower imprints. However, this item had been dredged from the sea by fishermen. It had passed through several hands to reach Hong Kong and was heavily eroded by seawater, covered in coral nodules. All its original merits were obscured, rendering it nearly worthless. But the jar itself was relatively intact, and more importantly, it contained many human skulls. Since people in the trade knew that Ming Jing Opera primarily dealt in "antiques" and were very interested in sought-after ancient corpses, they wondered if these cranial bones would count. So, they brought it to him for appraisal. Uncle Ming had never seen such an item—dredged from the sea? What was the purpose of filling a jar with so many skulls? But it looked like an item hundreds of years old, likely having a significant history, though he had never encountered anything like it and couldn't judge its value. Fortunately, it wasn't expensive, so he paid a small amount and kept it. As soon as he reached his doorstep, Xiang shed bloody tears again. Recalling the previous incident, Uncle Ming dared not even enter the house; he just wanted to find a place to discard the jar immediately. But then he thought that since he had spent money to acquire it, it would be a pity to just throw it away—he could at least try to sell it back at cost. So, he took it to an antique shop where he knew the owner. The experienced shop owner almost beat him when he saw Uncle Ming carrying the jar. He pulled him to a secluded spot to bury the jar before telling him, "If you sold this to me, you’d be trying to harm my entire family! Do you know what this is? According to the Great Ming Law, those executed by lingchi (death by a thousand cuts) were not even allowed to leave behind bone fragments; the executioners from the Ministry of Punishments were ordered to grind the bones to dust and scatter them to the wind. That means after slicing away all the flesh, they had to use a heavy implement to crush the remaining skeletal frame into ash. But most lingchi executioners inherited their craft, passed down only to sons, not daughters, and they had a very secret custom: after carrying out the lingchi execution, they would secretly keep the skull and seal it in a porcelain jar. Only upon the executioner’s death would his descendants throw the jar into the sea. Why they did this? How the executioners nourished these skulls of convicts? These are untraceable; these stories only circulated after the Republic era transitioned to firing squads, becoming known to the world. The jar you acquired contains the remains from every severe punishment this person received in his life. This object radiates such intense malevolence that it easily invites disaster by bloodshed. Who would dare keep it at home without understanding the way to care for the bones?"

Uncle Ming briefly recounted these two incidents. With Xiang showing similar signs near this statue, and appearing as utterly desolate as he had never seen before, he insisted that this place must be permeated with heavy yin energy and we couldn't stay. But with so many venomous snakes below, where else could we hide if not here?

I nodded, understanding. Many people must have died inside this colossus, and they must have died horribly. Thinking about Xiang’s strange actions earlier—her claim that starting from the third level, almost every wall in the interior stone chambers was embedded with a woman—if a person endures too much terror, they either suffer a mental breakdown or become numb. I looked around at the black stone walls; just contemplating our situation if Xiang was telling the truth made me feel suffocated. How many dead were really here?

What struck me as strange, though, was that the grottoes inside the colossus were monolithic, not structures built layer by layer with bricks. Therefore, bodies could not possibly be embedded in the walls. Furthermore, since the walls were all painted a deep, inky black, it was impossible to discern any human outline on them. The more I thought, the stranger it seemed. I reached out my arm and touched the wall behind me. If a woman executed here was indeed concealed within the wall, where would she be hidden?

I lightly swept my hand across the wall and immediately felt many shallow etchings, as if some kind of symbols were carved there. But because all the stone was black, if you only looked with your eyes, you wouldn't discover anything carved on the wall. Moreover, unless one deliberately inspected them, one wouldn't notice those ancient, messy chisel marks. I immediately told the others about my discovery; it seemed the walls of these grottoes indeed held a secret.

Uncle Ming perked up immediately upon hearing this and eagerly asked if the walls were carved with a map of a secret passage. I didn't answer. At this point, maintaining some rationality was necessary. Situated at the top of the colossus, like standing atop a tall tower, the area was constrained by the need to move forward or retreat. There couldn't possibly be any secret escape passage here. However, the symbols carved on the stone walls might record some information, perhaps about repelling snakes. I knew the chance was slim, and even if there was information, not everyone could decipher it, but it offered a flicker of hope for survival.

To make the shapes of the carvings on the black stone walls visible, Shirley Yang gathered some whitish fine ash nearby and smeared it over the etched areas. Lines of white gradually appeared before us—highly irregular lines crudely sketching out bizarre figures. In some spots, the carvings were worn smooth and indistinct. The only recognizable scene was a depiction of a woman carving on a wall, suggesting that the markings and symbols on these walls were all inscribed by women. The chisel marks on this wall were too indistinct, so we moved on to examine other walls. Almost every wall bore similar carved symbols and drawings, but the technique and clarity were clearly not the work of one person, nor did they seem to belong to the same period. However, the content recorded was largely similar: a constant repetition of the act of wall carving.

After viewing the walls in four or five grottoes, the group finally grasped the content of the carvings. It was confirmed that the carvings on each wall were made by different women. Without any other corroborating evidence, we could only make subjective inferences: they were all the women who failed to grow "ghost eyes," all imprisoned here. Each woman had to carve the event that left the deepest impression on her life as a testament for the next world, then pierce their own eyes and smear the blood onto the patterns and symbols they had carved, thus completing the final stretch of their lives. Finally, the sightless corpses were all bound to the stone pillars in the canyon, becoming sacrificial victims under religious theocratic rule, devoured by the black snakes.

Shirley Yang mused, gently stroking the walls etched with the souls of those unfortunate women. Uncle Ming, seeing only the blood and cruelty of ancient religious rule inscribed on the walls and no information that could help us escape, immediately lost heart, pacing restlessly within the grotto.

Suddenly, Shirley Yang exclaimed, "Hmm," and said to me, "This is strange, there’s a peculiar mark hidden within some of the carvings... very subtle. This mark looks like..."

Just as I was about to ask what she discovered, Fatty shouted, "Bad news! We need to run upstairs quickly; the stone slabs can't hold the venomous snakes!" I looked over and saw that the large stone slabs blocking the entrance had suddenly collapsed. The leading snake spat a red fluid that, upon hitting the ground, immediately sprouted rapidly withering red fungi. After the fungi withered and rotted, they possessed corrosive properties and had somehow managed to turn the stone brittle. Hordes of black snakes swarmed in behind it. A slightly smaller black snake, the fastest, arched its body and sprang forward like a black bolt of lightning. Fatty was quick-eyed and quick-handed; seeing the snake leap towards him in mid-air, he raised his entrenching tool and brought the steel shovel down squarely on its head. The sound was like striking a pile of iron filings. The black snake’s skull instantly shattered, but its black ocular eye on top was also smashed open, spraying countless drops of inky venom. Fatty quickly dodged backward. Where the ink splashed on the ground, wisps of poisonous smoke arose.

Everyone’s faces turned ashen pale. More black snakes were pressing forward menacingly, continuously pouring in. Although we knew going up was also a dead end, with our immediate survival at stake, we had no choice but to retreat upward first. In a quick glance, I noticed Shirley Yang was still staring at the symbols on the wall, completely lost in thought, unaware of the sudden change unfolding around us. I rushed over, grabbed her arm, and pulled her along, dragging her away. Shirley Yang snapped back to attention when I pulled her and said as she ran, "It’s a curse—a curse laid upon E Luo Hai City by those women..."