Chapter Forty-Two: Solitary Yin Cannot Thrive

Yue Leiting laughed disapprovingly and patted my shoulder.
"Yan Hui, it doesn’t matter if you’re human or not, as long as Qianling likes you, that’s enough."
"Enough! This is utter lawlessness. Do you think your little song-and-dance here is enough to prove that the two of them did nothing? Ridiculous!” Hu Zhiwen’s face turned dark as he spoke harshly. “If you keep interfering with police business, I’ll arrest you all together!”
"You’re colleagues with Fang Yanan. You should know her birthday. Can you tell me? It’s very important." I suddenly asked, my tone serious.
"Why are you asking that?"
"Fang Yanan is in great danger right now. If you want to save her, tell me quickly."
"If you have something to say, say it at the station. Take them away!" Hu Zhiwen thought I was just stalling for time.
Realizing I’d get nothing out of him, I fixed my gaze on Hu Zhiwen and shouted,
"I’m the one who kidnapped Fang Yanan. If you want to save her, do as I say!"
"Brother, what nonsense are you spouting?"
"Have you lost your mind? How can you randomly confess to something like this?"
"Yan Hui, you can’t speak so carelessly. Think about what you’re saying! This is kidnapping!"
The people in the room grew anxious as I spoke.
Hu Zhiwen gave a cold, stern laugh and looked at me seriously.
"So you finally admit it. Where have you taken Officer Fang Yanan?"
"I acted alone. They have nothing to do with it," I replied flatly, my expression unchanged. "To tell you the truth, I arranged for someone to kidnap her, and I intend to kill her. If my timing is right, they should be making their move soon."
"Qin Yanhui, you’re utterly deranged, plotting to kidnap and murder a police officer." Hu Zhiwen’s expression darkened as he drew his pistol and pointed it at me. "Hurry up and tell me—where is Officer Fang Yanan right now?"
"You can either shoot me now, or do as I say. The choice is yours." I didn’t blink, my tone icy.
Hu Zhiwen’s hand trembled slightly. Time was running out, and I guessed he was thinking that if what I said was true, Fang Yanan was in immediate peril.
"What do you want?"
"What’s Fang Yanan’s birthday?"
"March 17th."
"Which year?"
"1962."

I was stunned. I looked up sharply and asked in disbelief,
"1962?! But…why does her file at the station say March 17th, 1961?"
"Fang Yanan once told me she started school late, so she reported her age as a year younger."
"March 17th, 1962…" I quickly calculated on my left hand, then suddenly murmured, "Damn, that’s where I went wrong. I thought she was born in ’61, but it was actually ’62. A year’s difference…everything’s wrong."
"Brother, what’s the big deal about being off by a year?"
"In destiny and fate, a hair’s breadth leads a thousand miles astray. A single year’s mistake can change everything. Fang Yanan isn’t governed by the Star of the Sovereign, but by the Star of the Courier, which belongs to the Lunar Wall. This means her life is dominated by excess yin energy. No wonder they used the Fate Severing Ritual, transforming corpse water into red threads and laying them over her head. Fang Yanan’s yin energy was already persistent—now it’s doubling up, and from abundance comes decline, which is a sign of imminent disaster."
Hu Zhiwen didn’t understand, but was growing ever more anxious.
"You’ve got what you wanted. Now you must tell me—where have you taken Officer Fang Yanan?"
"Take me to Fang Yanan’s apartment," I said, decisive as iron.
Hu Zhiwen looked like he wanted to explode, but as Fang Yanan’s life was in my hands, he had no choice but to order the officers to put me and Xiao Lianshan in the car.

Fang Yanan’s home was spotless, with no sign of a struggle. The building’s attendant said he’d seen Fang Yanan return home, as he was always playing chess at the only entrance to the building. If she’d left, he would have seen. The police were certain she hadn’t left alone.
According to the attendant’s memory, around noon, two people came down carrying a box. He’d never seen them before, so he took a closer look. Both wore hats pulled low over their faces, making them hard to recognize, and both were rather fat but had small heads, which struck him as odd. They accidentally bumped the chessboard and didn’t even apologize, which made the event stick in his memory.
"Take a look—are these the two men you saw wearing hats last night?" Hu Zhiwen asked, pointing to me and Xiao Lianshan.
"No!" the attendant replied swiftly and firmly.
"You said you couldn’t see their faces. How can you be so sure after just one glance?" Hu Zhiwen asked impassively.
"I couldn’t see their faces, but you can still tell if someone’s fat or thin. The two who came down were quite fat, but their heads were small—it looked odd, almost like puppets."
Hearing the attendant’s words, my face grew even graver. I walked into Fang Yanan’s bedroom. The window was open, and the mirror on the windowsill faced the bed. The slippers beside the bed were neatly aligned, as if carefully arranged. The bed was perfectly made, without a trace of a wrinkle.
I crouched beside the bed and inspected it closely. When I touched it, I found water underneath. I gave Xiao Lianshan a look, and he lifted the mattress. Almost everyone instinctively stepped back—even Xiao Lianshan, usually so bold, turned pale.
Beneath the mattress lay a figure made from red thread, roughly the same size as Fang Yanan. The inside of the figure crawled with insects, squirming in a dense, horrifying mass. The red thread looked as though it had been soaked in water, continuously dripping.
"A ghost-bed," I said gravely.
"Brother, what’s a ghost-bed?" Xiao Lianshan asked, curious.
"There’s a saying about staying grounded—humans need to touch the earth’s energy to remain vigorous. Spirits, on the other hand, don’t, which is why their feet don’t touch the ground. Fang Yanan’s life is governed by the Star of the Courier and the Lunar Wall; her yin energy is extreme. At night, yin reaches its peak and then wanes while yang rises. That’s when the energies balance. By placing a figure made from corpse-water-soaked red thread between Fang Yanan and the ground, yin and yang are separated. As she sleeps on it, the yin energy gathers and never disperses, always surrounding her. In time, it will inevitably harm her life."
After speaking, I glanced at the mirror on the table, my brow furrowed with confusion.
Hu Zhiwen stood anxiously by, glancing repeatedly at his watch as the minutes ticked by, yet still, there was no word of Fang Yanan.

I slowly stood, examining the room’s arrangement again, shaking my head.
"Something’s not right. Why would it be arranged like this?"
"Brother, what’s wrong?" Xiao Lianshan set the mattress back and came over.
"Someone deliberately rearranged Fang Yanan’s room. Judging by the layout, they’re deeply versed in feng shui. If they truly wanted her dead, there’d be no need for further tricks—just have Fang Yanan sleep atop the corpse water, and on the first day of her period this month, the concentrated yin would consume and scatter her soul." I rubbed my forehead, astonished.
"Consume and scatter the soul? Brother, what exactly does that mean?" Xiao Lianshan was baffled.
"Humans require a balance of yin and yang. Too much yang leads to mania, trouble, and violence. That’s why police stations, thick with yang energy, breed officers who are quick-tempered and irritable. But too much yin damages the body and muddles the mind, leading to delusions and confusion. ‘Consuming and scattering the soul’ means that when yin energy accumulates to a certain point, it overwhelms the person, causing hallucinations, auditory and visual, and delusions. Women are especially prone—such as feeling someone call their name, only to find no one there, and then, before realizing it, falling from a building, or hearing voices urging them to harm themselves. Sometimes, the body is controlled and the mind lost."
Xiao Lianshan swallowed, his mouth twitching with fear.
"So you mean…most suicides are because of this?"
"It takes immense courage to commit suicide. Unless someone truly despairs, few can do it. Not all suicides are due to this, but many probably are."
"Are you done yet? Even now you’re spouting superstitions—who do you think will believe this?" Hu Zhiwen was frantic, glaring at me. "Where is Fang Yanan?"
"If you want to save her, be quiet!" I shouted, not even turning my head.
"Brother, you said something’s not right—what else is strange?"
I nodded, lost in thought.
"Do you remember when I chose the interrogation room in the Li position and poured water at the door?"
"Yes. You said the room faced east, Li is fire, the station’s yang is fire, and Fang Yanan’s face is fire. Three fires together make a fire calamity, which harms most people, but Fang Yanan’s body is haunted, her yin extreme. The three fires form the Samadhi True Fire, which can suppress her yin. You poured water at the door—water dissolves and blocks all, so the red thread, being corpse water, couldn’t enter." Xiao Lianshan recalled my words.
I took a deep breath, anxiety written on my face.
"I thought I was right, but I miscalculated her birth chart. Fang Yanan is a Tiger, born in spring, Wood element. She’s a Forest Tiger, with the Sheep Blade Fate. Her Eight Characters are missing Fire."
"If she lacks fire, didn’t you say the Samadhi True Fire would help?"
"But she was born on a Jia Yin day—Jia is Wood, yang Wood, which is the fuel for fire, yang wrapped in yin. I used Samadhi True Fire to suppress her yin, but instead, I energized her chart. Fang Yanan is Wood, Wood produces Fire; the Samadhi True Fire didn’t suppress her yin, but burned away her yang Wood, making her even more yin." I shook my head in deep regret.
"What does that mean?" Xiao Lianshan asked, nervous.
"Yin alone cannot create, and yang alone cannot grow. Fang Yanan originally had yang Wood to balance her yin, but now she’s left with only yin. I didn’t save her—I doomed her. Since the night we returned from the station, at midnight, Fang Yanan was fated to die by unnatural means!"