I peered into the gap. Dark waves rippled inside, like a cauldron full of water. Leaning closer, a foul, rotting stench hit me, invading my nose like a brute force.
I yelped, stumbling back, collapsing. The smell lingered, clawing at my insides, my throat tight, stomach churning, unable to vomit.
They dropped the lid and rushed to me, helping me up. My vision blurred, figures swaying, my mind foggy, desperate to puke.
One patted my back, the other my chest. I couldn't hold it, vomiting with a "blech."
The dumplings I'd eaten splattered out.
Oddly, vomiting eased me, my vision clearing. Tong Suo shouted, "What the hell did you puke?!"
Panting, sweaty, I wiped my mouth, feeling like I'd just left a sauna, oddly comfortable.
Li Yang looked at me strangely, handing me the flashlight. "Old Liu, brace yourself. Look."
I shone it on the vomit—a mess of onion and beef bits, crawling with tiny black specks, moving, chilling my neck.
Cold sweat poured. Were these from my stomach?
My emotions were a mix—fear, curiosity, and a childlike wonder at the unknown.
I squatted, shining the light, poking the mess with my trekking pole.
Tong Suo gagged. "Damn, Old Liu, you're insane. I'm impressed. You're the filth god."
Ignoring him, I grew more alarmed. The specks were soft, headless, tailless black bugs, like maggots, crawling.
Li Yang helped me up, waving a hand before my eyes. I snapped, "I'm not crazy."
A memory surfaced—a documentary I'd seen about a Hong Kong crew interviewing a Thai headhunter. A woman, cursed, vomited maggots daily. Her room was filled with piles of wriggling, yellow-black maggots, chilling to watch.
Her family hired two monk-like headhunters, who ate handfuls of the maggots, chewing with frothy mouths—a grotesque scene.
Seeing these specks, I wondered: was this a curse or蛊 (gu)?
I wasn't clear on the difference—curses from Southeast Asia, gu from Yunnan minorities, both sinister, often involving bugs.
I shared my thought. Li Yang and Tong Suo's faces changed. We'd thought this was a fun adventure, not expecting something as dark as a curse. No one would risk their life.
Tong Suo stammered, "Let's cover the cauldron."
Li Yang agreed, sighing. They grabbed the ring, pulling to close it.
I leaned against a pillar, drenched in sweat, unsure if it was psychological or lingering poison. My stomach ached, intestines twisting.
Despair hit. I hadn't even found a partner yet—dying like this would be unjust. My life, aside from this bizarre end, was utterly unremarkable.
Under the flashlight, they struggled with the lid, now pushing instead of pulling, life's unpredictability in full display.
Li Yang paused. "Wait."
"What?" Tong Suo asked, dazed.
"I heard something inside."
"Damn it," Tong Suo cursed. "What's that got to do with us? Don't mess around—close it and let's go."
"Hold on." Li Yang set down his pack, pulling out a gas mask. He was well-prepared.
Wearing it, he turned on his helmet lamp and peered into the crack.
Tong Suo and I exchanged helpless, fearful looks. Li Yang was stubborn, like Li Damin—a natural leader, bold or reckless.
He pressed his face to the cauldron, eyes wide. "There's a sound. Old Tong, listen."
"No way. Even if it's playing Beethoven, I'm not listening," Tong Suo said, keeping his distance.
Li Yang slowly raised his trekking pole, inserting it into the gap.
My stomach pain vanished in fear, watching him.
He stirred it, struggling. "The water's deep…" His face changed, body stiffening.
"What?" Tong Suo asked cautiously.
"The pole's caught on something. There's something in the water…"
Before he finished, the pole jerked downward, yanked into the cauldron, vanishing.
My scalp tingled, a mix of emotions overwhelming me. I screamed, a sound Tong Suo later said was like a ghost's wail, nearly making him crap himself.
Then, we all heard a sigh—not loud, but echoing through the temple. It was a woman's voice, filled with sorrow and despair, as if from hell, stirring a urge to cry.
Despite its eerie suddenness, I wasn't scared but felt an overwhelming sadness. How much pain must someone endure to sigh like that?
We stood frozen, necks stiff. Our gazes locked on the cauldron—the sound came from within.
Tong Suo's teeth chattered. "Did we screw up? This cauldron's like Pandora's box—open it, and all hell breaks loose. Close it!"
Li Yang said nothing, silently pulling the lid with Tong Suo. With creaking, the gap narrowed.
Then, a girl's sweet, carefree laugh came from the cauldron, pure as a silver bell, enchanting, like a child trapped inside for years, yearning for freedom.
Seeing Tong Suo freeze, Li Yang shouted, "Close it, don't think!"
His yell snapped us out of it, fear sinking in. The voice was too eerie, heart-pounding.
They pulled, closing the lid. At the last moment, the laugh turned to a scream.
The scream was agonizing, chilling us to the bone, our bodies shaking. It lingered, venomous, as if cursing us for trapping her, wishing us eternal suffering and death.