After leaving the strange bamboo forest, Grace and her group headed southeast in the direction pointed out by the old Taoist.
The deeper they walked, the thicker the fog became. The bamboo leaves no longer rustled pleasantly but instead fell into a heavy silence. The faint fragrance of bamboo was now mixed with a sweet, unsettling smell.
“Miss, can you believe what that old priest said?” the female guard whispered, her eyes darting around.
Grace’s expression stayed serious. She shook her head slightly. “It’s hard to tell if it’s true. But it’s the only clue we have.”
If Logan hadn’t been with her, Grace would never have dared to take the risk.
After about an hour, the bamboo gave way to a deep canyon—just as the old man had described.
The mouth of the canyon was narrow, the black rock walls on both sides steep and bare, forming a sharp contrast to the lush green behind them. A cold wind blew from its depths, carrying with it biting chill and the stench of decay. The dim light inside made the canyon look like the gaping maw of a beast waiting to devour intruders.
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