The oppressive silence of the underground cavern was broken only by the distant drip of water echoing through the labyrinthine tunnels. Yang Xiang's footsteps echoed faintly on the cold stone floor as he ventured deeper, his torch casting flickering shadows against the ancient walls.
Every step forward seemed to pull him further away from the world he knew, into a realm where time itself appeared to have frozen. Strange symbols, half-erased by centuries of neglect, adorned the rough-hewn walls — remnants of a civilization long buried, their meaning lost to all but the whispers of the past.
His breath came in shallow gasps, partly from the damp, stale air, partly from the growing unease curling in his chest. He paused, eyes straining to catch movement in the darkness ahead. A sudden clatter made him spin around, but there was nothing—only the echo of his own heartbeat.
Yang Xiang swallowed hard, recalling the old legends told in hushed tones by villagers — stories of an ancient curse protecting the secrets hidden deep beneath the earth. Yet, despite the creeping dread, something compelled him onward. The secrets buried here might hold answers to the mysteries that had haunted his family for generations.
As he pressed on, the walls seemed to close in tighter, the faint glow from his torch now struggling against the encroaching blackness. Ahead, a faint outline of a doorway appeared, carved with the unmistakable mark of a forgotten dynasty.
With trembling hands, Yang Xiang reached out to trace the worn carvings, feeling the rough grooves beneath his fingertips. What lay beyond could change everything — or destroy him.