The Last Reflection at Yanshou Temple

In a remote village called Lianxi, lived a young woman named Mei Lian. She was the daughter of a physician and had been raised with logic and scientific thinking. Unlike the rest of the villagers who still believed in spirits, ghosts, and ancient curses, Mei Lian often laughed at the circulating supernatural tales.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” she declared boldly whenever her neighbors spoke of Yanshou Temple, a place said to be cursed and haunted by a vengeful spirit.

According to the villagers, the temple once served as the prison of a female priest’s restless soul. She was burned alive by villagers who accused her of dark sorcery. Before the flames consumed her, she cursed all nonbelievers, saying they would be "made to believe."

But Mei Lian never cared.

One day, she said to her father, “Father, I’m going to prove to everyone that place is nothing more than an abandoned building. No curses. No ghosts.”

Despite her father’s pleas for her not to go, her resolve was unshakable.

The Journey to the Temple

That evening, Mei Lian packed an oil lantern, a brush, ink, and a scroll for taking notes. She ventured west of the village, into the dense forest, toward the ruins of Yanshou Temple—surrounded by dry bamboo and overgrown weeds.

By the time she reached the temple gate, the sun was setting. The structure stood old and crooked, swallowed by time and moss. The guardian statues had lost their faces. The silence seemed to swallow even the sounds of birds and wind.

Still, Mei Lian stepped inside.

“I’m not afraid,” she whispered.

Inside the Temple

The interior was pitch black, lit only by her small lantern. She walked down a narrow corridor, its walls etched with ancient Han characters. She stopped to read one:

“The dead shall return if forgotten. The living shall vanish if they deny.”

She furrowed her brow and jotted a note: “These phrases are just meant to scare people.”

As she walked deeper, her lantern flickered—almost going out.

“Just the wind,” she thought.

But there were no gaps, no windows.

Then she heard it—a faint sigh, followed by the sound of fabric dragging across stone.

Mei Lian turned around. Nothing.

She continued walking and soon reached the temple’s prayer hall. In its center stood an altar layered in old incense ash. Behind it loomed a massive mirror, cracked from corner to corner.

Mei Lian approached it.

In the reflection, she saw… herself standing beside a bloodstained woman in priestess robes. The woman’s face was charred, her eyes hollow, and her mouth stretched into an unnatural smile.

Mei Lian spun around—no one behind her.

But when she looked back at the mirror, the figure moved closer… and closer… until it stepped out of the mirror.

The Terror Begins

The lantern went out. Darkness devoured everything. Mei Lian ran, but the temple’s corridors twisted and changed. The structure felt alive, as if it wanted her lost inside.

A whisper reached her ears:

“Do you still not believe…?”

Something gripped her ankle. She fell. In the dark, she saw dozens of hands clawing out from the walls and floor, pulling her down.

Mei Lian screamed. She fought, scratching at the ground, leaving trails of blood and broken nails.

The old priestess’s laughter echoed through the temple.

“Now you know… but it’s too late.”

With one final scream, Mei Lian was dragged beneath the stone floor. Nothing remained.

The Next Morning

Villagers found Mei Lian’s lantern at the gate of Yanshou Temple. Bloody claw marks covered the stone floor, and a new carving had appeared on the wall:

“She believes now.”

Mei Lian’s body was never found.

And each night, in the cracked temple mirror… sometimes, the reflection of a long-haired young woman can be seen, weeping silently—until suddenly, she stares back at anyone who dares look into it.