In the bustling heart of Guangzhou, on the famous shopping street of Xiajiu Road, stands Liwan Plaza—a massive, gleaming complex renowned for its stores, restaurants, and nightlife. From dawn till dusk, the plaza buzzes with activity, drawing shoppers, foodies, and revelers from all over the city. But for those who know the darker stories behind its bright facade, Liwan Plaza is not just a place of commerce and pleasure; it's a site of eerie mystery and unsettling rumors.
It all began during the construction of Liwan Plaza. While excavating the foundation, workers made a shocking discovery: eight ancient, weathered coffins buried deep below the surface. The coffins appeared old and battered, but strangely, the wooden nails securing each one were fresh, with intricate carvings resembling ancient symbols. The construction workers were puzzled, but with the deadline looming and no time for thorough investigation, the decision was made to dispose of the coffins on-site. In a hasty effort to clear the construction zone, the coffins were set ablaze, their remnants scattered and buried to make way for the plaza.
However, that decision would soon haunt the plaza and those connected to it. Since Liwan Plaza's grand opening, a series of mysterious and violent deaths have plagued the building. The first incident involved a young man who was found dead after falling from one of the upper floors under baffling circumstances. At first, authorities assumed it was an accident or even a suicide, but further investigation revealed no logical reason for him to have been in that part of the building at all. His family insisted he had no known troubles or suicidal tendencies, and so the tragedy quickly gained a sinister reputation among the staff and local residents.
A second incident followed not long after, this time involving a nightclub patron. During a late-night altercation, the patron was found dead in the club under highly suspicious circumstances, his death marked by signs of unexplained violence. Witnesses later claimed to have seen him standing alone, talking as if to someone unseen before the incident occurred. His friends were adamant that he had been acting strangely that night, but no one could explain why. As the news spread, whispers of the plaza's curse began to gain traction among residents.
Within a few short years, Liwan Plaza had accumulated seven such deaths. Some were violent and public, others more quiet and obscure, like employees found dead in the early hours, or accidents that defied explanation. Locals were disturbed, and theories began to spread. The most enduring and chilling tale suggested that the eight coffins found during construction had been there for a purpose—to bind dark forces, or to trap malevolent spirits. By disturbing and destroying them, the workers had unleashed something old and malevolent, something that now prowled the halls of the plaza, seeking out souls to replace those that had been lost. The plaza would only be "cleansed," they said, after eight souls were claimed, one for each of the coffins that had been destroyed.
With each new death, fear among staff and residents grew. Vendors in the plaza's bustling market would sometimes exchange quiet glances, whispering about the plaza's "curse." People began to avoid certain areas, especially at night. Even tourists felt the shift; some claimed that parts of the building seemed oddly cold or uninviting, as though an unseen presence was watching. Rumors about Liwan Plaza reached a fever pitch as people began to call it "the Liwan Graveyard," pointing out that the characters in the name looked hauntingly like "corpse site" when illuminated by the plaza's bright but sometimes flickering neon lights.
One evening, a young woman named Lin and her friends decided to visit the nightclub in Liwan Plaza. They had heard the stories, but dismissed them as local folklore, urban myths exaggerated over time. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and soon Lin forgot about the strange feeling she'd had while looking up at the plaza's giant neon sign as they entered. The group enjoyed the night, laughing and dancing, until Lin excused herself to use the restroom.
As she entered the bathroom, she immediately noticed the stark silence—a sharp contrast to the vibrant energy outside. The light above flickered, casting odd shadows across the mirror. Washing her hands, Lin glanced up, and for a fleeting second, she thought she saw something behind her. It was so quick, so blurred, that she almost dismissed it as her imagination. But then, a chilling sensation washed over her, like an icy hand running down her spine. She turned, half-expecting to see someone, but the bathroom was empty.
Rattled, she quickly left the restroom, but as she walked back towards the club, she felt a strange sensation. It was as though she was being watched, a prickling awareness that made her glance over her shoulder repeatedly. The hallway seemed darker, the air heavier, and her heart raced. Just as she reached the door of the club, she heard what sounded like a soft whisper, distant but clear enough to send her into a cold sweat. She couldn't make out the words, but it sounded like a child's voice, pleading.
Shaken, she rejoined her friends, deciding not to tell them about what she'd heard. She tried to shrug it off, but the memory lingered, and soon her discomfort grew into an overwhelming urge to leave. The group decided to call it a night, and they exited the plaza. As they left, Lin glanced back, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw a figure standing in the shadows near the entrance—small, childlike, with indistinct features.
Lin never returned to Liwan Plaza. A few days later, her friends were horrified to hear that Lin had been found dead in a nearby alleyway. The cause of death was unclear, and the circumstances of her last moments were shrouded in mystery. Her tragic end marked the eighth death associated with the plaza, completing the ominous number that had been foretold in the stories of the coffins.
Following Lin's death, the strange occurrences in Liwan Plaza seemed to cease. Staff and regular patrons noted the sudden shift in atmosphere; the air no longer felt heavy, and the unexplained chills were gone. People began to speak more freely about the plaza, sharing their own stories and sightings. Some speculated that the spirits had been appeased, that Lin's death had somehow "completed" the cycle of eight souls required to bring peace to the plaza. Others, however, remained uneasy, feeling that the plaza's dark history would forever linger, even if the curse had been lifted.
To this day, Liwan Plaza remains one of Guangzhou's most notorious locations. By day, it stands as a thriving hub of commerce, with thousands of visitors unaware of the tragedy woven into its foundation. But by night, when the neon lights flicker and the shadows grow long, the building's unsettling past feels close, just beneath the surface. Those who know the story can't help but wonder: were the coffins really appeased, or do the spirits still linger, waiting for someone to disturb them once more?