Legend of the Demon Soul

Deep in the heart of Taiwan’s mountain ranges lies Qilai Mountain, a place shrouded in mystery and whispered tales of malevolent spirits. The legend gained chilling momentum in 1971 after a series of tragic mountaineering accidents involving students from Tsinghua and National Taiwan University, transforming the area into a mythical "Black Ghost Domain" in the public imagination. Local indigenous communities revere Qilai as a cursed realm, a forbidden land where evil spirits dwell. Generations have learned to fear its shadowed slopes, for countless families have lost loved ones to its treacherous terrain. With solemn respect, they allow the legend to carry on the wind, a warning to all who dare trespass into the spirits’ domain. And so the legend spread—of howling winds that echo like spectral warnings, of air so thick with dread it feels like a tangible presence. But for James, a seasoned prankster with a disdain for superstition, these tales were nothing more than outdated tricks to scare the faint of heart. Dropping his heavy mountaineering bag onto the lush green grass, James cast a sideways glance at the mysterious woman in white who had trailed the group for hours. Trying to spook me? Not a chance. "Let’s rest here," he announced. The team tacitly unshouldered their packs, their actions mirroring years of shared adventures. "Is this the legendary Lily Slope?" asked Michael, his gaze sweeping over the endless carpet of green. "Exactly. Last July, this entire slope was blanketed in wild lilies," James replied. "From the North Peak of Hehuan Mountain, they looked like snowflakes scattered among the peaks. I knew up close, they’d be even more spellbinding." "Sounds magical," sighed Amanda, Michael’s sister. "Like something out of a legend—a fated love story, a tragic death, and a girl who waits forever, her spirit turning into those white flowers." James rolled his eyes. To him, the slope was just grass and lilies—beautiful, but hardly the stuff of ghost stories. "We should’ve come in July," Amanda griped. "It’s only been three months, but it feels like an eternity." "Blame someone for delaying us," Kevin shot back, eyeing Amanda. "First July, then January—after we’d packed every ice tool we owned." "Yeah, thanks to our resident third-year prodigy, we’re lucky to be here at all," added David, the former mountaineering club president. "Shh! Don’t say ‘ghost’ so loudly!" Amanda hissed, glancing around nervously. "This place is full of stories. The deep mountains are worse." "Give it a rest," Kevin scoffed, reclining on the grass. "Legends are just excuses to keep people away. I’ve been to Orchid Island’s haunted sites at midnight—nothing happened." "Maybe they’re meant to protect the ecosystem," David mused, gazing at the untouched wilderness. "Natural beauty like this needs guarding." Amanda crossed her arms. "Better safe than sorry." "Scared? You can head back anytime," David challenged. "As if! If you guys are brave enough, so am I." Amanda flopped onto the grass, though her eyes lingered on the shadowed trails ahead. James watched his friends, amused by their over-the-top acting. Five years of friendship, and I never knew they had Oscar potential. But he was no rookie—this was his turf. They think they can out-prank the king of April Fools? Let’s see who breaks first. His gaze flicked to the woman in white, still standing silently a few paces away. Bravo, everyone. This isn’t just a prank anymore—it’s a performance. "Hey, did anyone remember today’s April Fools’ Day?" Michael piped up, breaking the silence. James smirked. Here we go. "Of course I remember," he replied. "I’m the one who planned that epic prank on our professor senior year—the fake accident, the silent student walking in mid-lecture? She didn’t speak to us for weeks." Michael chuckled. "She turned white as a sheet! That’s a hard act to follow." "Too bad you’re recycling old tricks," James teased. "You think I’d fall for the same shtick?" Amanda groaned. "Can we skip the pranks? This hike’s tough enough." "Agreed. Let’s move before the temperature drops," David said, shouldering his pack. "And James—no funny business. We checked everyone’s gear. No cheats." "Would I ever?" James asked, feigning innocence. But as the group set off, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was keeping score—and the real game was just beginning. The woman in white followed silently, her presence a lingering question mark in an already perplexing day.