The cave was vast and echoed with every word spoken inside. The group walked around the cave and estimated it stretched about twenty meters deep—roughly the size of a basketball court. Even stranger, the floor beneath their feet was paved with large bluish stone slabs. Each slab was about four square meters in size, carved with strange and bizarre patterns, giving off an ancient, mysterious aura.
Liu Dashao suddenly clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Great! We can get out from here!”
Everyone looked at him in confusion. “What? Did you find an exit?”
Liu Dashao pointed at the bluish stone slabs beneath their feet and said, “Look at these stones. They’ve clearly been artificially laid here. That means people must have come here in ancient times. If people could come here before, there must be a passage connecting this place to the outside world!”
Upon hearing this, everyone seemed to awaken from a dream, excitement surging through them all.
Zhang Enpu, after a moment of contemplation, suddenly reminded them, “We don’t know what purpose this place served for ancient people. Everyone, be careful!”
Liu Dashao asked Zhang Enpu, “Master, can you tell which era these stone slabs are from?”
Zhang Enpu squatted down, stroking the stone slab. “The patterns on these stones are quite strange. I can’t be sure exactly when they were made, but judging from the texture, they should date back to the Ming Dynasty or thereabouts.”
As they were speaking, suddenly Bai Erlaizi cried out in terror, “Oh my God, you all better come quick!”
Startled, everyone rushed toward the source of Bai Erlaizi’s voice. There, a half-burnt candle lay on the ground, still flickering. The candlelight illuminated Bai Erlaizi’s face, pale and bloodless, his expression so withered and ghastly he looked like a corpse. He sat trembling on the floor, pointing forward with a shaking hand, whispering, “There’s a ghost! A ghost!”
Seeing him in such a state, everyone felt a chill run down their spines. What could have frightened Bai Erlaizi so badly?
Tian Guoqiang picked up the candle and said, “Damn it, don’t scare us like that! We’re all young men raised under the warm spring breeze of socialism—we don’t believe in ghosts or spirits!” Saying this, he stepped forward and raised the candle to illuminate the darkness.
“Ahh?!” Tian Guoqiang’s arm froze mid-air. Stammering, he said, “This… this… it’s too terrifying…”
The candlelight illuminated a stone wall not far away. As everyone focused their gaze, they were instantly struck dumb with horror. About three meters away, hanging on the wall, was a massive scroll nearly five meters long and two meters wide. The image on the scroll was bloody and eerie, its vivid colors almost dizzying. It depicted a man kneeling on the ground, bound at the wrists, his mouth wide open. Beside him sat a brazier, and a hideous little demon held a red-hot iron clamp, forcefully gripping the man’s tongue. The tongue was stretched out long, thick smoke rising from it, blood continuously spilling from the corners of the man’s mouth.
A faint, almost imperceptible stench of blood and decay wafted from the scroll, nauseating and repulsive.
Liu Dashao shook his dizzy head and stepped back, cursing, “What the hell kind of painting is this? So horrifying!”
Tian Guoqiang suddenly said, “Have you all noticed something strange about this painting?”
His eerie tone sent chills through everyone.
They asked him what was wrong, and he replied shakily, “I feel like the person in the painting isn’t just a painted figure… he looks like a real person!”
What?! Everyone stared in horror at the bloody image. The more they looked, the more they felt Tian Guoqiang was right. The painting gave off an intense three-dimensional effect, as if the figure might crawl out at any moment.
“Give me the candle!” Zhang Enpu took the candle from Tian Guoqiang, approached the wall, and, covering his nose with a handkerchief, began examining the painting closely.
Zhang Enpu studied it carefully. He took out a tissue, held it in his hand, and gently touched the painting through the tissue. His expression grew strange.
After a while, he turned back toward the group, his face serious. “Do you know what this painting is made of?”
Liu Dashao casually replied, “Well, obviously, it’s painted with a brush and paint!”
Zhang Enpu shook his head. “No! This painting is embroidered entirely from strands of human hair!”
Human hair?! Everyone stared at him in disbelief. A painting made from hair? Liu Dashao, filled with doubt, stepped closer to the scroll. Zhang Enpu warned, “Don’t touch it with your hands!”
Liu Dashao nodded and leaned in. Sure enough, the bloody image on the scroll was indeed made up of countless fine strands of hair, tightly bound together with no gaps between them. It was, truly, a masterpiece of craftsmanship.
But who could have made such a painting? And why depict such a horrifying and bloody scene?
At this moment, everyone’s minds were filled with questions.
Tian Guoqiang exclaimed in awe, “How much human hair would it take to make such a painting?”
For some reason, the moment Liu Dashao realized the painting was made of hair, he felt uneasy all over, his scalp tingling as if someone were pulling out his hair strand by strand.
Bai Erlaizi, now standing up and brushing dust off his pants, chuckled nervously, “So it’s just a painting! I thought it was a ghost!”
“Hey, look! There’s another one over here!” Tian Guoqiang shouted.
Looking closely, the group saw another massive scroll hanging about five or six meters away from the first. Earlier, their attention had been so focused on the first painting that they hadn’t noticed this one nearby.
Approaching the second scroll, they saw its content was equally horrifying. A demon with a pair of massive shears shaped like an alligator’s mouth was cutting off a man’s ten fingers, blood spurting from the stumps in a shocking scene.
Tian Guoqiang muttered, “What kind of cruel punishment is this? So brutal!”
“Damn it! You guys better come see this—it’s even worse!” Liu Dashao shrieked.
Five or six meters from this second painting was a third scroll, even more gruesome. In the center of the image stood an iron tree. Instead of branches, the trunk was covered with sharp blades. A naked man was impaled on the tree, his body pierced with countless wounds, blood and flesh dripping down continuously.
Liu Dashao fought the urge to vomit and quickly stepped back.
Zhang Enpu suddenly said, “Quickly, move further to the side! There must be more scrolls here!”
Indeed, as two of them moved another five or six meters, a fourth scroll appeared on the wall. This one depicted a bronze mirror. A man knelt before it, golden light radiating from the mirror onto his body. Yet in the mirror’s reflection, instead of the man, there stood a monstrous demon.
They kept moving, discovering new scrolls one after another.
The fifth scroll showed a large steamer. Beneath it roared a fire. A man, bound hand and foot, was placed inside the steamer like a suckling pig, seemingly about to be steamed into a human head-shaped bun.
The sixth scroll portrayed a thick copper pillar, its interior ablaze, glowing red-hot. Several demons fanned the flames, while a man, stripped naked and bound to the pillar, was roasted until his body turned black, emitting thin wisps of smoke.
They continued viewing scroll after scroll. Without realizing it, they had walked a full circle around the cave. Counting carefully, they found there were a total of eighteen scrolls. Each depicted a different form of torture, all horrifying and cruel, leaving Liu Dashao trembling with fear, his hands and feet icy cold.
After viewing the eighteenth scroll, Zhang Enpu turned to Liu Dashao and said, “I was right. These scrolls depict the Eighteen Levels of Hell!”
The Eighteen Levels of Hell?! Liu Dashao was startled. He was familiar with the legend of the Eighteen Levels of Hell, but no one had ever known exactly what each level was.
Zhang Enpu explained, “Each scroll represents one level of hell. Starting from the first one we saw, the Eighteen Levels of Hell are: Tongue-Pulling Hell, Scissors Hell, Iron Tree Hell, Karmic Mirror Hell, Steamer Hell, Copper Pillar Hell, Blade Mountain Hell, Ice Mountain Hell, Oil Cauldron Hell, Bull Pit Hell, Stone Crushing Hell, Mortar and Pestle Hell, Blood Pool Hell, Wrongful Death Hell, Dissection Hell, Volcanic Hell, Stone Mill Hell, and Sawing Hell.”
Liu Dashao stuck out his tongue and exclaimed, “Good heavens! The Eighteen Levels of Hell are so terrifying! It seems we should avoid doing evil deeds in our lives, or else we’ll end up suffering in these hells after death!”
Zhang Enpu continued, “The distinction among the Eighteen Levels of Hell isn’t based on physical depth, but rather on time and severity of punishment. Those who committed sins in life would descend into the corresponding hell. For example, those who liked sowing discord and spreading rumors would go to the first level—Tongue-Pulling Hell. In this level, one year equals 3,750 years on Earth. The souls must endure ten thousand years of torment, unable to die even a single day earlier. Ten thousand years here equates to 13.5 billion years in the human world. And as the levels increase, the time and suffering multiply exponentially. By the time one reaches the eighteenth level, the punishment lasts for trillions upon trillions of years. Such endless torment is truly eternal damnation, a suffering beyond human comprehension.”
Upon hearing this, Liu Dashao couldn’t help but inhale sharply. If such a place truly existed, it would be unbearable for anyone.
“Alright, enough about the Eighteen Levels of Hell. Let’s focus on finding a way out of here first!” Tian Guoqiang said.
Indeed, how had they gotten so caught up in the Eighteen Levels of Hell? If they didn’t escape soon, they would all be driven mad by the oppressive darkness.
There were only two flashlights, so Liu Dashao distributed candles from his bag, and everyone split up to search for an exit.
The cave was vast, and speaking inside it echoed. Everyone walked around the cave, estimating its depth to be around twenty meters, roughly the size of a basketball court. What was even stranger was that the ground beneath their feet was paved with bluestone slabs, each about four square meters in size, engraved with bizarre patterns that looked ancient and mysterious.
Liu Dashao clapped his hands excitedly, “Great, we can get out from here!”
The others looked at him in confusion, “What? Have you found a way out?”
Liu Dashao pointed at the bluestone slabs, “Look at these slabs, they’ve clearly been laid by human hands. That means people used to come here frequently. If people could come here, there must be a passage connecting this place to the outside!”
Hearing this, everyone seemed to wake from a dream, their excitement palpable.
Zhang Enpu pondered for a moment and then cautioned, “We don’t know what this place was used for by the ancients. Everyone, be careful!”
Liu Dashao asked Zhang Enpu, “Master, can you tell from which era these bluestone slabs are?”
Zhang Enpu crouched down, touching the bluestone, “The patterns on these slabs are quite peculiar. I can’t be sure of their exact age, but judging by the texture, they’re likely from around the Ming Dynasty.”
As they were talking, Bai Erlazi suddenly screamed in terror, “Oh my god, come and look at this!”
Everyone’s hearts skipped a beat, and they rushed over to where Bai Erlazi was. They saw half a candle on the ground, still burning. The light illuminated Bai Erlazi’s face, pale and lifeless, resembling a corpse. He was sitting on the ground, trembling and pointing forward, “Ghosts! Ghosts!”
Seeing him like this, everyone felt a chill. What could have scared Bai Erlazi so much?
Tian Guoqiang picked up the half-burnt candle, “Damn it, stop scaring us. We’re young people living under the socialist spring breeze, we don’t believe in ghosts!” He stepped forward, raising the candle to illuminate the area.
“Ah?!” Tian Guoqiang’s arm froze mid-air as he stammered, “This… this… is too horrifying…”
The candlelight reflected on the stone wall not far away. Everyone focused on the light and were instantly struck with fear, unable to speak. About three meters away on the wall hung a massive scroll, about five meters long and two meters wide. The pattern on the scroll was bloody and grotesque, with colors so vivid they were dizzying. It depicted a person, bound and kneeling, mouth wide open. Beside him was a brazier, and a ferocious little demon held a red-hot iron clamp, gripping the person’s tongue, which was stretched out long. Thick smoke and blood continuously spilled from the person’s mouth.
A faint, nauseating smell of blood and decay emanated from the scroll, making everyone feel sick.
Liu Dashao shook his dizzy head and stepped back, “What the hell is this? Why is it so terrifying?”
Tian Guoqiang suddenly said, “Have you noticed something strange about this painting?”
His tone was eerie, sending shivers down everyone’s spine.
They asked him what was strange, and Tian Guoqiang’s voice trembled, “I feel like the person in the painting isn’t painted—it’s a real person!”
What?! Everyone looked at the bloody painting in horror, and the more they looked, the more they felt Tian Guoqiang was right. The painting had a strong three-dimensional effect, as if the person in it could crawl out at any moment.
“Give me the candle!” Zhang Enpu took the candle from Tian Guoqiang, walked up to the wall, covered his nose with a handkerchief, and carefully examined the painting.
Zhang Enpu looked closely, pulling out a tissue and using it to touch the painting. His expression turned strange.
After a while, Zhang Enpu turned back to everyone with a grave face, “Do you know what this painting is made of?”
Liu Dashao casually replied, “Paintings are made with brushes and paint, of course!”
Zhang Enpu shook his head, “No! This painting is embroidered with strands of hair!”
Hair strands?! Everyone looked at Zhang Enpu in disbelief. A painting embroidered with hair? Such a bizarre scroll existed? Liu Dashao, full of doubt, walked up to the painting. Zhang Enpu warned, “Don’t touch it with your hands!”
Liu Dashao nodded, leaning in for a closer look. Indeed, the bloody image was embroidered with fine strands of hair, tightly woven together without any gaps. Strictly speaking, it was a masterpiece of craftsmanship.
But who could have embroidered this? And why such a bloody and grotesque pattern?
Everyone was filled with questions.
Tian Guoqiang exclaimed, “How many people’s hair would it take to make this scroll?”
For some reason, Liu Dashao felt uneasy thinking about the painting being made of hair. His scalp tingled as if his own hair was being pulled out strand by strand.
Bai Erlazi, who had been sitting on the ground, stood up, dusting off his pants and laughing, “So it’s just a painting! I thought it was a ghost!”
“Hey, look over here, there’s another one!” Tian Guoqiang called out.
Everyone looked and saw another massive scroll hanging about five or six meters away. Their attention had been so focused on the first one that they hadn’t noticed the second.
They walked over to the second scroll. This one was equally grotesque and bloody, depicting a little demon holding a pair of scissors shaped like a crocodile’s mouth, cutting off a person’s ten fingers. Blood gushed from the severed fingers, a horrifying sight.
Tian Guoqiang said, “What kind of torture is this? It’s so cruel!”
“Damn it, come and look at this one—it’s even worse!” Liu Dashao shouted.
About five or six meters away, a third scroll appeared. This one was even more gruesome. In the center was an iron tree, its branches replaced by countless blades. A naked person was hung on the tree, pierced by the blades, blood and flesh dripping down.
Liu Dashao suppressed the urge to vomit and stepped back.
Zhang Enpu suddenly said, “Quick, keep moving along the wall. There must be more scrolls!”
Zhang Enpu was right. As they moved another five or six meters, a fourth scroll appeared on the wall. This one depicted a bronze mirror. A person knelt before the mirror, bathed in golden light, but the reflection in the mirror was that of a monster.
They kept moving, discovering more scrolls.
The fifth scroll showed a large steamer with a roaring fire beneath it. A person, bound hand and foot, was placed inside the steamer like a suckling pig, as if being steamed into a human head bun.
The sixth scroll depicted a thick bronze pillar, burning with fire. The pillar was red-hot, and several little demons fanned the flames. A person, stripped and bound to the pillar, was being roasted black, smoke rising from their body.
They continued to examine scroll after scroll, eventually circling the entire cave. Counting carefully, there were eighteen such scrolls, each depicting a different, horrifying form of torture. Liu Dashao was terrified, his hands and feet cold.
After viewing the eighteenth scroll, Zhang Enpu said to Liu Dashao, “I was right. These scrolls depict the eighteen levels of hell!”
The eighteen levels of hell?! Liu Dashao was shocked. The legend of the eighteen levels of hell was ancient, and he was familiar with it, but no one knew exactly what those eighteen levels were.
Zhang Enpu explained, “Each scroll here represents a different level of hell’s torture. Starting from the first scroll we saw, the eighteen levels are: the Tongue-Pulling Hell, the Scissor Hell, the Iron Tree Hell, the Mirror of Retribution Hell, the Steamer Hell, the Bronze Pillar Hell, the Mountain of Knives Hell, the Ice Mountain Hell, the Cauldron of Oil Hell, the Cattle Pit Hell, the Crushing Stone Hell, the Mortar Hell, the Pool of Blood Hell, the Unjust Death Hell, the Dismemberment Hell, the Volcano Hell, the Grinding Stone Hell, and the Saw Hell.”
Liu Dashao stuck out his tongue, “My god, the eighteen levels of hell are terrifying! We should avoid doing evil deeds, or else we’ll end up in these hells after death. That would be unbearable!”
Zhang Enpu said, “Actually, the difference between the eighteen levels of hell isn’t spatial but temporal and in the severity of punishment. Those who commit evil deeds in life will descend to the corresponding hell after death. For example, those who sow discord and spread rumors will go to the first level, the Tongue-Pulling Hell. In terms of time, one year in the first level of hell equals 3,750 years in the human world. The beings there must live for ten thousand years, with no possibility of dying a day earlier. This ten thousand years is equivalent to 135 billion years in the human world. As the levels increase, the time and lifespan multiply exponentially. By the eighteenth level, the unit of time becomes billions upon billions of years. Such prolonged suffering is truly an eternal damnation, with pain and cruelty beyond human imagination and comprehension.”
Hearing this, Liu Dashao couldn’t help but gasp. If the eighteen levels of hell truly existed, it would be unbearable.
“Alright, alright, let’s stop studying the eighteen levels of hell. Let’s find a way out of here first!” Tian Guoqiang said.
Right, why were they discussing the eighteen levels of hell? If they didn’t find a way out soon, the oppressive darkness would suffocate them.
They only had two flashlights. Liu Dashao distributed candles from his bag, and everyone split up to search for an exit.
Suddenly, Tian Guoqiang screamed, “Snake… snake…” Then the light flickered, and his flashlight fell to the ground.
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