Yin and Yang - Chapter 19

The two returned to the hotel just as the rain stopped. It had been a typical thunderstorm, brief but intense. As the sky cleared, a vibrant rainbow arched across the horizon, its colors particularly striking. Shen Qingwei leaned against the window, gazing at the spectacle. Turning to Yin Zheng, she exclaimed, “Senior Sister, it’s so beautiful!”

Yin Zheng emerged from the bedroom, having changed into warm-toned loungewear. She stood behind Shen Qingwei, who, with her childlike curiosity, had always been this way—passionately devoted to what she loved and openly disdainful of what she disliked, her affections and antipathies clear and unwavering.

Yin Zheng glanced outside. A radiant rainbow bridge hung across the sky, truly dazzling and magnificent. Beside her, Shen Qingwei asked, “Senior Sister, isn’t it beautiful?”

Yin Zheng nodded calmly, then turned to Shen Qingwei, her expression softening. “Yes, it is beautiful.”

Like Shen Qingwei, Yin Zheng was in the prime of her youth, her beauty breathtaking.

Shen Qingwei grinned, batting her eyelashes. “Senior Sister is even more beautiful than the rainbow!”

Yin Zheng snapped back to attention, shooting her a sidelong glance. Her voice was cool. “Stop teasing and let’s go eat.”

Behind her, Shen Qingwei muttered under her breath, “I wasn’t teasing! I was just telling the truth.”

Her voice still carried a hint of grievance. Yin Zheng didn’t need to turn around to imagine Shen Qingwei’s expression. She walked to the dining table and sat down, handing Shen Qingwei a bowl of congee and two steamed buns. The congee shop downstairs, charmed by Shen Qingwei’s beauty and cuteness, had even thrown in two sesame balls as a bonus. Coated in white sesame seeds and hollow inside, their crispy shells made them a favorite of Shen Qingwei’s. She took a sip of congee, glanced at Yin Zheng, and asked, “Senior Sister, where did you put the Seven Star Lamp?”

“In the cabinet,” Yin Zheng replied, glancing at the white cabinet.

“Then I’ll go tonight,” Shen Qingwei insisted.

Concerned about Yin Zheng’s health, Yin Zheng said flatly, “We’ll go together.”

“You should rest here,” Shen Qingwei insisted, her rare stubbornness crumbling under Yin Zheng’s gaze. She surrendered, “Fine, but tonight you’re only allowed to watch me. No moving a finger.”

Only allowed to watch her?

Yin Zheng lowered her head, a faint smile flickering in her eyes. “Understood,” she murmured.

Shen Qingwei immediately felt much more at ease.

The Seven Star Lamp could only be lit at night, using the stars for navigation. After their meal, they had the entire afternoon ahead of them. Yin Zheng had a habit of taking afternoon naps, but Shen Qingwei didn’t. She lay on the sofa, chatting with Yin Ruo on her phone, when she turned her head and saw Yin Zheng dozing lightly beside her.

Yin Zheng’s breathing was steady and deep, her eyes half-closed, long lashes casting faint shadows beneath them. Her usually fair complexion was even paler due to the angina, adding a touch of fragility that wasn’t usually there. Shen Qingwei lowered her gaze, her eyes lingering on the tip of Yin Zheng’s nose before settling on her thin lips. Her heart quickened, and her palms began to sweat involuntarily. She leaned closer, yet dared not make any other move, content to simply inhale Yin Zheng’s unique scent.

Yin Zheng rarely wore perfume, her body carrying its usual sandalwood fragrance. The subtle scent now seemed more alluring than any strong perfume. Shen Qingwei’s heart pounded in her throat, her entire being consumed by Yin Zheng.

She whispered softly, “Senior Sister.”

The light sleeper didn’t respond. Shen Qingwei couldn’t resist reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from Yin Zheng’s forehead when a knock sounded behind her. Her hand froze, and she turned to walk toward the door.

Behind her, the person who should have been asleep slowly opened her eyes, releasing her clenched fist. Had Shen Qingwei brushed aside that strand of hair, she would have noticed the fine beads of sweat at Yin Zheng’s temples—a sign of her tension.

Yin Zheng regulated her breathing, hearing Shen Qingwei’s low voice at the door: “Understood. I’ll pass the message on.”

“Me?” Yin Zheng’s tone remained nonchalant. “Sorry, I’m very busy. No time.”

She walked over and, as expected, Hu Shengsheng was standing at the door.

The moment Hu Shengsheng saw her, he immediately bowed respectfully. “Miss Yin.”

Yin Zheng replied coolly, “What is it?”

Hu Shengsheng explained, “My master has resolved the Yin Dwelling matter. The Yin Lair has been destroyed. We’ve come to bid you farewell.”

Shen Qingwei lowered her gaze. Luo Ying was still putting on airs even as she left. What did she expect? Did she think Shen Qingwei and her Senior Sister would personally see her off? She was dreaming.

Luo Ying genuinely believed this. She had contributed significantly to the Haunted House case, handling the Yin Dwelling matter entirely herself. Moreover, as their senior, she felt entitled to some deference.

However, Shen Qingwei and Yin Zheng weren’t buying it. Hu Shengsheng returned alone, looking dejected. Luo Ying demanded, “Did they say anything else?”

Hu Shengsheng shook his head. “No.”

“No manners!” Luo Ying huffed indignantly. “No respect!”

Hu Shengsheng didn’t dare utter a word as he followed Luo Ying out of the hotel. From the upper floor, Shen Qingwei watched the two figures below and remarked, “Senior Sister, the Landlord invited us to dinner the other day, but I turned him down.”

It was an invitation related to the data retrieval. Shen Qingwei had no interest, and knowing Yin Zheng’s lack of interest, she declined. Yin Zheng nodded slightly. “Understood.”

“Should we head back after dealing with the elevator?” Shen Qingwei asked, tilting her head. Before Yin Zheng could answer, her phone suddenly rang. The two exchanged puzzled glances at Yin Zheng’s phone. Yin Zheng didn’t have many contacts, limited to her Master, Martial Aunt, and Shen Qingwei. Currently, only her Master and Martial Aunt were listed. She picked up the phone and, as expected, it was her Martial Aunt. Yin Zheng suppressed a flicker of disappointment and answered the call. After a brief conversation, her expression turned grave. Just as Shen Qingwei was about to ask what was wrong, Yin Zheng raised a finger and gently pressed it to Shen Qingwei’s lips, signaling her to be quiet.

Shen Qingwei froze, blinking in surprise. Yin Zheng’s finger rested lightly against her lips, yet it seemed to stir her heart, instantly throwing her emotions into turmoil. The unique sandalwood scent that clung to Yin Zheng’s skin enveloped Shen Qingwei’s senses, subtle yet pervasive. Her ears flushed crimson, and her face grew warm.

She took two steps back, trying to steady her racing heartbeat.

Soon, Yin Zheng ended the call. Shen Qingwei asked, “Was that your Martial Aunt?”

“Mm,” Yin Zheng replied tersely. “Something’s happened at the Dadu Women’s Dorm. She wants us to go there immediately.” Her tone conveyed urgency. “We need to hurry.”

Shen Qingwei suggested, “Then let’s settle the little ghost in the elevator first and head over?”

Yin Zheng hummed in agreement and turned to see Shen Qingwei retrieving the Seven Star Lamp.

As evening approached, the sunset painted the horizon like a crimson silk cloth, its intense red hues deepening across the sky. Shen Qingwei strolled through the residential complex, overhearing an elderly woman murmur, “Looks like we’ll have good weather tomorrow again.”

“Indeed,” another replied. “Morning glow stays home, evening glow travels far. Tomorrow’s a good day for a trip.”

A group of old men gathered around a chessboard, exchanging casual greetings with Shen Qingwei and Yin Zheng as they passed. The pair boarded the elevator, which was crowded with several people. A woman recognized Shen Qingwei and repeatedly called out, “Master! Master!” Shen Qingwei was puzzled until she remembered this was the same woman from the first night. Her complexion had brightened, and the dark aura on her forehead had noticeably faded, suggesting she had been resting well recently.

“Master, that True Talisman of yours is amazing! I hadn’t slept soundly in days, but I’ve finally been sleeping well these past two nights!”

While others might dismiss ghosts as superstition, this woman believed wholeheartedly, having experienced them firsthand. Shen Qingwei chuckled wryly. “It was just a coincidence,” she said.

“Master, are you here for something specific?”

“Nothing much,” Shen Qingwei replied.

She then asked, “Has anything unusual happened in this elevator?”

The woman looked at her, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

She understood. “Master, are you asking if anything strange has happened here?”

Shen Qingwei smiled faintly. “Any accidents?”

“Accidents…” The woman thought hard. “A long time ago, a family fell down the stairs. The elevator wasn’t working then. I heard they got compensation later.”

Shen Qingwei nodded. “Anything else?”

The woman lowered her head, pondering for a long moment. “No, that’s all.”

As the elevator reached her floor and she was about to get off, she suddenly remembered something. Turning back to Shen Qingwei, she said, “Oh! There’s one more thing. When I first moved in, I heard there was a package in the elevator—a human head inside!”

Shen Qingwei’s expression turned serious. She exchanged a glance with Yin Zheng and asked the woman, “Could you tell us more about that?”

This wasn’t in the information the landlord had provided.

The woman recalled, “I had just moved in then, so I don’t know much. I just heard that someone found a bloody package in the elevator one morning, and inside was a human head.”

She spoke in a hushed voice, as if afraid, but seeing Shen Qingwei’s reassuring presence, she continued, “But later, some people said it was just a prop, not real. A bunch of kids playing a prank. There were no major incidents reported in the city, no news coverage, nothing. I don’t know if it was true or not, but my husband saw it, and he said it looked very real.”

She only remembered it because her husband had seen it.

Shen Qingwei nodded and smiled at the woman. “Thank you. I understand.”

“I should be thanking you,” the woman replied. “Master, would you like to join us for dinner?”

This was too much. Shen Qingwei felt overwhelmed and politely declined. Yin Zheng, standing beside her, remained calm and composed. Seeing Shen Qingwei’s refusal, the woman didn’t press further, waving goodbye as she headed home.

Shen Qingwei sighed deeply. “This looks like trouble.”

“Let’s light the Seven Star Lamp first,” Yin Zheng suggested. “We can deal with finding the corpse later.”

Left with no other options, the two women made their way to the rooftop. Shen Qingwei retrieved the Seven Star Lamp and a few strands of long hair she had torn from the Head Ghost’s skull. After burning the hair, she placed the ashes in a square-mouthed bottle and tossed in a Yellow Talisman. The bottle instantly burst into flames, the flames leaping high. Shen Qingwei glanced at the scattered stars in the sky, bit her finger, and dripped blood into the bottle. The fire flickered wildly, illuminating her rarely serious, delicate features. She glanced at Yin Zheng, who used her soft sword to lift the bottle and place it within the Seven Star Talisman.

As soon as the bottle was placed inside, the flame flickered twice and went out.

Shen Qingwei frowned slightly, her expression grave. Refusing to believe it, she repeated the process exactly as before. This time, she took the soft sword from Yin Zheng, lifted the bottle, and placed it within the Seven Star Talisman. The Seven Star Lamp didn’t ignite; instead, it sputtered and went out.

Even Yin Zheng’s face paled. The two women stared at the bottle within the Seven Star Lamp, their expressions growing increasingly solemn. As Shen Qingwei prepared to drip blood for the third time, Yin Zheng grabbed her arm and shook her head gently. “Don’t light it again.”

Shen Qingwei glanced sideways at Yin Zheng. The surrounding wind howled, whipping Yin Zheng’s robes into a frenzy and lifting her dark hair into a cold, sweeping arc. Yin Zheng met Shen Qingwei’s gaze, her voice heavy. “This is an unnamed corpse. It can’t be lit.”

An unnamed corpse—without identity, naturally leaving no trace.

The situation had suddenly grown far more complicated. Shen Qingwei’s gaze shifted to the elevator behind Yin Zheng, her expression darkening.