"Cut it out," Li Yang said. "It feels like a building to me."
He was right. I added, "Yeah, it's got eaves and tiles, like an old Kyoto-style structure."
Li Yang took a deep breath. "Let's find out."
He shone his light, revealing a massive ancient Taoist temple.
Its age was palpable, exuding an ancient aura. The high walls were yellow-plastered mud, the gate adorned with intricate eaves and vibrant red doors formed by two semicircles. A wooden sign hung above, faintly showing three golden characters—likely the temple's name. Oddly, two black iron lamp stands flanked the entrance.
The temple stood three stories tall, majestic yet lifeless, radiating an eerie gloom.
We exchanged looks and approached, our flashlight beams dancing on the red doors. The closer we got, the more oppressive it felt, my chest tight with unease.
At the gate, Li Yang lit the blue sign above, reading softly, "Yin-Yang Temple."
Tong Suo muttered, "Badass! Ever heard of an ancient Taoist temple hidden in a modern skyscraper? What an engineering feat, kept secret like this. Damn impressive!"
Li Yang said, "I've heard of a temple in Taiwan—Taichung Zen Temple—built inside a luxury office building, shaped like a white lotus, much bigger than this, about 150 meters. But Old Tong's right—secretly building this in a modern complex is no small feat."
Tong Suo asked, "So, what's the plan? Stop here or go in?"
Li Yang grinned. "If we turn back, I'll lose sleep forever. We're here—might as well look."
He approached the door, hesitated, then touched it, looking at us. "I'm opening it."
"Wait," Tong Suo and I said simultaneously.
"You first," we said in unison.
Li Yang snapped, "Someone speak! Old Liu, why wait?"
Rubbing my chest, I said, "Don't laugh, but I've got a bad feeling, like something's about to happen."
Li Yang waved it off. "If you're scared, go back. This is voluntary. I'm going in. You, Tong Suo?"
"I'm not a coward like Old Liu," Tong Suo said. "I said wait because I thought of something."
"What?"
"Should we light these two ancient lamps at the gate?"
"Why the hell light them?" Li Yang asked.
Tong Suo said, "They're placed here for a reason. I don't know Taoist rules, but I've visited plenty of temples on trips, and I've never seen this setup. Maybe lighting them has a purpose or triggers something. Let's try."
"Enough with your dumb ideas," I snapped, irritable. "Let's just go in, look, and leave."
Li Yang shone his light on the lamps, startling us. The stands were shaped like malevolent ghosts, hair matted on skull-like heads, eyes as black voids, hands raised holding the lamp bases.
Tong Suo aimed his light at one, revealing half-filled black-yellow oil, smelling faintly burnt. Our faces changed—someone had recently lit these.
Li Yang scratched his head. "I'm getting a bad vibe too. Let's not light them. We'll look inside and leave."
He pushed the red doors, which opened easily but only a crack before stopping. Peering through with his flashlight, he saw massive pillars and a large cauldron, but the angle limited his view.
He pulled out a folding knife, leaned against the door, and reached in, sawing at something.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Someone tied the inner handles with a belt, trying to keep us out," he said.
Soon, a "snap" sounded, and something fell. He pushed, and the heavy doors creaked open, the unoiled hinges screeching in the dark.
He picked up the object—a long snakeskin belt. I laughed.
Tong Suo shivered. "What's so funny?"
I sighed, exhausted. "That's Li Damin's belt. I recognize it."
Li Yang, despite being related to Li Damin, wasn't as close as I was. Li Damin bragged about this belt, a designer piece his mom brought from Hong Kong. He'd flash it to show off, earning the nickname "Li Belt." Seeing it now, I felt a pang of sadness, tears welling up.
Li Yang sighed. "Damin's fate is unknown, but this proves he was here. We're on the right track."
Tong Suo said, "Why'd he tie the belt to the handles? To keep people out?"
Li Yang nodded. "Clearly."
Tong Suo laughed. "If someone really wanted in, a belt wouldn't stop them."
"Maybe it's a warning," I said. "A message: this place is dangerous, enter at your own risk."
Li Yang waved. "Let's not overthink. In we go."
We entered the temple's main hall, vast and sparse. Thick pillars, their paint peeling to reveal gray cement, supported it, looking like an old man's hair. A lotus-shaped altar stood at the center, empty—either never holding a statue or one was taken.
Before it was a greenish-bronze cauldron, about 1.5 meters tall, standing on three legs.
I examined it closely. Its surface bore strange patterns, like a face with round eyes, expressionless, staring coldly ahead.
Curious, I reached to touch it when Li Yang said, "Could this be the Hunyuan Cauldron?"
"What's that?" I asked.
Tong Suo chimed in, "You don't play online games?"
"No time."
Tong Suo scoffed. "You, with no time? Always slacking. The Hunyuan Cauldron is a game item."
"Don't listen to him," Li Yang said. "I read about it in Taoist texts. It's supposedly a sacred tool for guiding souls to the afterlife."
"Guiding souls?" I asked. "Isn't that a Buddhist concept?"
"Some Taoist sects do it too. It's complex—fasting, altars, chanting. The cauldron's key: souls enter it, are purified by true fire, and move on, no longer wandering."
I studied the cauldron, its bronze lid covered in odd, spiraling lotus-like patterns, both meaningless and strange.
Curiosity got me. I touched the lid—ice-cold. A thought struck: what's inside?
Gripping the copper ring, I tried lifting it while they weren't looking. It was insanely heavy, immovable despite my efforts.
Tong Suo and Li Yang were exploring the hall with their flashlights. I went all in, bracing a foot against the cauldron, pulling hard.
A "creak" sounded as the lid budged slightly.
The noise drew them over. Li Yang's face twisted. "What the hell are you doing?"
Tong Suo was annoyed. "Don't mess with stuff you don't understand."
Their scolding stung. "I didn't even want to come in here—you insisted! Now I'm just curious, and you gang up on me. What's that about?"
Tong Suo started to speak, but Li Yang cut in. "Calm down. Even exploring, we need to be scientific and cautious in a place like this. Be careful next time. Let me check what's inside."
He shone his light through the crack. It was too dark to see, but he sensed something was there. The gap was too narrow for anyone but him to peek through.
Tong Suo grew impatient. "Can you see or not? Move, let me look."
Li Yang ignored him, handed me the flashlight, and grabbed the lid's ring, foot braced, pulling with all his might.
His neck veins bulged. "Don't just stand there, help!"
They pulled together, grunting, the gap widening.