As the master and disciple left the inn, they soon arrived outside the town.

Standing at the intersection, the old monk opened his Dharma Eye and gazed toward the distant mountain.

A dark mist swirled above the mountain, creating a sinister and eerie atmosphere.

"It seems there's something fishy going on there. Let's go now," the old monk called out.

The young monk hurriedly followed, carrying his box and basket.

After a long walk, the two finally reached the foot of the mountain.

A stream flowed at the foot of the mountain, surrounded by lush green grass.

"No wonder people graze here! There's such a vast grassland!" the young monk exclaimed.

"Anything unusual must be demonic. Perhaps a demon has deliberately created this area to lure people here to graze their livestock for food," the old monk warned. The young monk exclaimed in surprise, "No way! If that's the case, this demon is incredibly clever!"

"I hope not. If so, it'll probably take some effort," the old monk replied.

Then the two of them looked up the mountain.

From time to time, white mist drifted across the mountain, and halfway up the mountain, a temple could be vaguely seen.

The temple wasn't large, but it looked very ancient and elegant.

"Let's go up and take a look," the old monk said, clenching his staff.

Then the two of them began to walk up a winding mountain path.

Although the temple was right halfway up the mountain, it still took the master and disciple a long time to walk.

By the time they reached the halfway point, it was already dark.

A temple suddenly appeared before them.

"Master, we've arrived," the young monk called out from the front.

The old monk looked up and ahead.

What came into view was an ancient temple made of blue bricks and earthen tiles. The tiles above the ancient temple were intact, though the windows had several holes broken, and the temple door was wide open.

The door panel lay on the ground, as if something had forcibly knocked it open from the outside.

It had fallen inward.

There was a well next to the temple, but it was unknown whether there was water in it.

"Why is this temple like this? What happened here?" the young monk asked, puzzled.

"I don't know, but let's go in and take a look," the old monk replied.

Then the two of them walked into the temple.

The interior was filled with cobwebs and dust, with tables and benches scattered on the floor.

It looked like it had been abandoned for a long time.

Directly opposite the main door stood a massive Buddha statue.

The paint had mostly peeled off, and it was covered in dust.

The once benevolent Buddha statue now looked ferocious and terrifying. The young monk was startled by the sudden sight, thinking it was a demon.

The old monk beside him quickly grasped his shoulder, and the young monk finally calmed down.

He hurriedly patted his chest and took a deep breath to calm himself.

"That Buddha statue scared me to death!" the young monk angrily scolded.

"Look around, see if there's anywhere we can stay. We'll stay here tonight," the old monk said.

Then the two of them began to wander around the temple.

When they reached the next room, they found some hay piled in the corner.

So they found a relatively clean spot and spread some hay on the floor, planning to spend the night there.

After spreading the hay, the young monk set the box aside, took some clothes from inside, and laid them on the floor as a pillow.

Then he lay down on his side, his back facing outward.

The old monk placed his staff against the wall, sat cross-legged beside him, clasped his hands together, and began to meditate quietly. In this way, the two monks, one old and one young, settled down in the temple.

Time passed slowly.

At some point, the young monk gradually drifted off to sleep, and a soft snoring began to emanate from his nose.

This woke the old monk, who was meditating nearby, from his trance.

It was already late at night.

The old monk opened his eyes and looked around.

He saw moonlight streaming in through the crack in the window.

The floor inside looked like frost, a chill.

Suddenly, a dark shadow flashed past the window.

The old monk immediately looked out the window, but saw nothing.

"Am I seeing things?" he thought.

Then he looked away.

Just then, many more dark shadows appeared outside the window, flapping their wings like birds.

This time, the old monk could finally see clearly: there was something outside. The old monk stood up, picked up his staff, and walked out.

Outside the temple, he saw a cloud of black mist floating in the air.

Red lights flickered within, and from time to time, shrill cries emanated from within.

The old monk, upon seeing this, struck the black mist with his palm.

Instantly, a golden hand shot toward the black mist.

Just as the golden hand was about to strike the black mist, it dodged and flew away.

The old monk, upon seeing this, picked up his staff and soared into the air in pursuit.

Just then, another cloud of black mist appeared, charging into the temple.

The black mist continued to drift further and further, with the old monk in hot pursuit.

After a while, they arrived at a forest.

The black mist whizzed into the trees below, disappearing.

The old monk then followed suit. When they reached the forest, they discovered that the black fog had vanished without a trace.

"Strange, how could it disappear so quickly?" the old monk wondered.

So, he opened his divine eyes and looked around.

He discovered that the dispersing black fog was actually a flock of bats, each of them emitting a thick black aura.

Now, they were dispersing and fleeing in all directions.

No wonder the black fog had vanished so quickly.

It turned out to be the bats' fault. When they gathered together, they looked like a black fog.

And the flickering red light in the fog was from their eyes.

For their eyes were a blood-red color, and they were constantly flashing.

"Oh no! We've lured the tiger away from the mountain. We've fallen for a trick!"

At this moment, the old monk realized what was happening and hurried back to the ruined temple.