Yin and Yang - Chapter 1

Shen Qingwei stepped off the bus just as the clock struck nine. A fine drizzle hung in the air, and a dim yellow streetlamp cast a weak glow outside the station. The road was deserted except for a few taxis parked along the curb, their windows cracked open, wisps of cigarette smoke drifting out. Frowning, Shen Qingwei walked to the last taxi in line. The driver reached out to flip off the “Available” sign. She tapped on the window, and he turned his head. “Off duty. Not taking any…”

He trailed off as his eyes landed on Shen Qingwei. His heart skipped a beat. Under the umbrella stood a woman with cascading waves, a white sleeveless top, and a denim miniskirt that showcased her long, slender legs. Her figure was curvaceous and striking, the kind that could ignite desire with a single glance. He hurriedly unlocked the car, and Shen Qingwei opened the door and slid inside.

“Where to, miss?” the driver asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. She looked barely twenty, her youthful beauty now as captivating as her figure had been. Her face was so alluring it made his mind race. Shen Qingwei lifted her head, her gaze meeting his in the mirror. After a moment, she replied, “Ping’an Community.”

Her voice carried a languid, almost seductive tone, with a hint of coquettishness. The man was momentarily stunned. Shen Qingwei repeated, “Sir, to Ping’an Community, please.”

She winked at the rearview mirror, her charm irresistible. The man swallowed hard, his hands sweating on the steering wheel. “Miss, are you sure you want to go to Ping’an Community?”

Ping’an Community had been plagued by ghost sightings recently.

It had started some time ago when a woman in the community suddenly went mad. She first stabbed her husband with a fruit knife, then brutally murdered her daughter before taking her own life. Fortunately, the husband survived thanks to timely medical intervention. The woman and her daughter died in their apartment, and since then, countless ghost stories had spread like wildfire: neighbors hearing midnight knocks, ghostly wails, and red spectral figures.

The apartment had become a notorious haunted house, known far and wide.

Ironically, the ghost sightings had drawn more people to the community than ever before. If the government hadn’t sealed it off, it might have become a tourist attraction. But even with the lockdown, daredevils still flocked there. The deaths of three livestreamers who collapsed at the entrance hadn’t deterred others from trying their luck.

Could this beautiful girl be a livestreamer?

Her fiery figure was undeniably persuasive. He wondered if she was one of those provocative streamers he often watched. The more he thought about it, the hotter he felt, and his courage grew. His cautious glances in the rearview mirror turned into blatant stares, as if he wanted to strip Shen Qingwei naked through the glass.

Shen Qingwei leaned back in her seat, one leg crossed over the other, her sandal dangling from her toes, swaying rhythmically. The man’s body reacted instinctively, but thankfully she couldn’t see him from the front. Even so, he shifted his posture.

“Yes, I’m going to Ping’an Community,” Shen Qingwei said. “Can we get going?”

Her languid voice stirred the air in the car, and the man gripped the steering wheel tighter. The fire in his chest burned hotter. As he drove, he asked, “Where are you from, Miss?”

“Xuancheng,” Shen Qingwei replied, lowering her leg. The rearview mirror caught a glimpse of her calf—straight, slender, and without a trace of excess fat. The man swallowed hard, the sound audible. It felt like a millennia-old enchantress sat behind him, capable of stealing his soul with a single glance.

Lost in lustful thoughts, he drove halfway to their destination before stopping at a red light. Composing himself, he asked again, “Are you a streamer, Miss?”

Shen Qingwei glanced at the rearview mirror, taking in the man’s expression. She replied with a hint of feigned grievance, “Yes, but I’ve only been streaming for a short time. I don’t have much of a following yet.”

The man immediately asked, “Which platform do you stream on?”

“I have friends who are streamers too. With your looks, I could give you a shout-out. You’d definitely blow up!”

Shen Qingwei tossed her hair, her expression innocent. “Really?”

The man, intoxicated by an unfamiliar fragrance, replied firmly, “Absolutely! Which platform are you on? What’s your room number?”

Shen Qingwei named a platform that sounded familiar to him. Suddenly, he remembered: two of the three streamers who had mysteriously died in Ping’an Community were from that platform. He wondered if the platform’s streamers were fearless or if people would do anything for fame these days.

The man searched for the platform on his phone. “What’s your room number?”

“Five sixes,” Shen Qingwei replied.

“A lucky number…” The man trailed off as the room number loaded. He was about to follow her when he noticed he was already following her. He scratched his head and asked, “Are you sure that’s the right room number?”

Shen Qingwei replied confidently, “Absolutely! That’s the one!”

If this isn’t a lot of followers, what is? Almost six hundred thousand! The man scrolled down, recognizing familiar covers and comments. Suddenly, he remembered how he had followed this account.

This is the account of the first streamer who died suddenly!

Holy shit!

A chill ran down the man’s spine, and he instantly threw his phone away.

The green light flashed on, and the taxi behind him honked impatiently. The man’s face turned deathly pale as he cautiously glanced at Shen Qingwei through the rearview mirror. His hands trembled on the steering wheel as he forced a dry laugh. “Miss, you were just joking with me, right?”

Shen Qingwei braced her hands on the edges of the seat, leaning forward until her head appeared abruptly beside the driver’s shoulder. Her voice, still languid, now sounded sinister.

“What joke?”

The man didn’t dare turn his head, but out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the woman behind him. He saw a vivid red streak flowing from the corner of Shen Qingwei’s eye, winding down her cheek and making her skin appear even more snow-white—like—like a corpse!

The man remembered! That streamer had looked exactly like this before he died! His eyes had been wide open, bleeding!

He couldn’t bear to look again. That single glance had nearly made him scream. He clenched his teeth and gripped the steering wheel tightly, his heart pounding wildly, leaping into his throat as if trying to burst out!

“How much longer?” Shen Qingwei asked.

A voice whispered in the man’s ear, the cold breath sending a shiver down his spine. His face, pale as death, froze in place, stiff as wood. “Almost… almost there,” he stammered.

He had deliberately driven slowly earlier to prolong his conversation with Shen Qingwei. Now, with his foot pressed hard on the accelerator, the car sped down the road. Fine beads of sweat covered his forehead, gleaming under the streetlights. From the back seat, Shen Qingwei asked, “Sir, did you manage to find my room number earlier?”

The man held his breath, his deathly pale face flushing crimson from the strain. Trembling, he stammered, “I… I…”

Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself, “I couldn’t find it.”

“Why not again?” Shen Qingwei sighed. “It’s been a whole month since any new fans have interacted with me.”

Sweat trickled down the man’s spine. A month… a month ago was exactly the day she had died suddenly! He had even heard his colleagues discussing it today, warning him to avoid driving near Ping’an Community. He could have avoided this, but he had been blinded by her beauty!

The atmosphere in the car plummeted. The car sped on, and the night wind whistled through the window cracks, creating an eerie, wailing sound that resembled someone sobbing softly right beside his ear. A chill seeped into the man’s ear, piercing him to the core.

The speedometer began to climb rapidly: 80, 90, 100, 110, 120!

The tires screeched against the pavement, sparks flying as the car sped past like a gust of wind. The man quickly pulled up to the entrance of Ping’an Community, his face flushed crimson from holding his breath, afraid to speak or even breathe. He sat stiffly, not daring to turn his head, and mumbled, “We’re, we’re here, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Shen Qingwei said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned forward. This time, the man sat rigidly upright, his eyes fixed straight ahead, not even glancing sideways. Shen Qingwei asked again, “Sir, did you find my room number?”

The man’s scalp tingled, his face alternating between red and white. Shen Qingwei was certain he would suffocate in the next moment, yet she deliberately leaned closer, whispering, “Did you find my room number?”

“N-no, no, I didn’t,” the man gasped, his face contorted in a miserable expression, on the verge of tears. “My phone, my phone is broken.”

“Then you should look it up when you get home,” Shen Qingwei said.

The man nodded vigorously. “Yes! Yes, I will!”

“And your friends too.”

“We’ll all look it up! We’ll all look it up!”

“Oh,” Shen Qingwei said, lowering her head. “Can you turn on the dome light? I can’t find my wallet. It’s so dark. Could you help me look?”

A hand reached out. The man turned to see a pale, slender wrist adorned with a red string—eerily reminiscent of the ties used on corpses in mortuaries. He shuddered and pushed the bag back. “No need! No money!”

Please, just get out of the car!

The man was on the verge of despair.

Shen Qingwei rummaged in her bag for a moment. “Found it.”

A sheet of ghost money was handed over from the back. The man nearly wet himself in terror, his voice trembling with panic. “I don’t want it! I really don’t! Please, just get out!”

Left with no choice, Shen Qingwei tucked the ghost money back into her bag, opened the car door, and said one last thing: “Sir, you’re so kind. I’ll definitely ride with you again next time.”

Her languid tone, chilling voice, combined with the wind and drizzle, sent shivers down the man’s spine. Before she could even close the door, he slammed his foot on the accelerator, the car roaring forward and splashing through puddles.

Only after the taillights disappeared did Shen Qingwei pull out two wet wipes to wipe away the ‘blood’ at the corners of her eyes. With a blink, she reverted to her usual beautiful appearance. As she tossed the wipes away, she couldn’t resist flipping the departing car the middle finger, her expression contemptuous.

What kind of trash dares to fantasize about her?

I’ll scare you to death!

Shen Qingwei tossed the wet wipes into the trash can. Her phone buzzed in her bag, and she immediately pulled it out. As expected, it was a message from her senior sister.

Yin Zheng: “Qingwei, have you arrived yet?”

Shen Qingwei could practically picture her senior sister’s serious expression and tone. She quickly replied: “Mm, I’m downstairs now.”

Yin Zheng had just breathed a sigh of relief when another message arrived.

Shen Qingwei: “Senior Sister, when are you coming?”

Yin Zheng: “Soon. I’ll head over as soon as I finish up here.”

Shen Qingwei: “Then you’d better hurry! I just got here today and already got harassed.”

Yin Zheng frowned. She had raised Shen Qingwei herself and knew her temperament well. Harassed? She asked, “What happened?”

Shen Qingwei: “The taxi driver kept staring at me and tried to touch me! I was so scared!”

Recognizing the familiar tone, Yin Zheng frowned and paused for a few seconds before replying: “Are you okay?”

Shen Qingwei: “Of course I’m okay! I’m smart and resourceful, remember?”

Yin Zheng typed: “I meant, is the driver okay?”

Shen Qingwei choked on her breath when she saw the message!

Her eyes confirmed it: she wasn’t her senior sister’s favorite person after all.

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