Yin Yang Diviner

The morning mist of early winter, carrying a thin layer of coolness, drifted over the winding streets and alleys of Liuhe Town, turning the eaves and black tiles of the old houses into a light ink painting.

The old locust tree in the courtyard had shed its last withered leaf, its bare branches piercing the gray sky. The wind swept through the branches, making a quiet sound, which, mixed with the sandalwood incense rising from the main room, brewed a long and peaceful atmosphere in the air.

I sat at the stone table, my fingertips lightly twirling a cinnabar talisman, my gaze falling on the yellowed copy of "Sudden Journey Guide" on the corner of the table.

The edges of the pages are worn and curled by time, and they are covered with names. Behind each name is an unresolved obsession and an unresolved karmic entanglement.

The small characters next to Zheng Dehou's name, personally annotated by his second grandfather, were particularly clear in the morning light: "Silk turns into gold thread, resentment turns into remembrance."

More than three months have passed since the Zheng family's bracelet case.

That sandalwood bead, once bound and shrouded in darkness by the sudden entanglement, was like a heart sealed in ice, containing Zheng's father's lifelong worries and resentments, as well as the barrier between father and son that transcended the divide between life and death.

I once used the Zhenyuan Zhaozhu technique to glimpse that tangled and endless dark thread, and I also taught Mr. Zheng to calm his mind with the word "wait," not to forcefully suppress or break it, but to quietly wait for the obsession to dissipate and the dark energy to warm itself.

That's when I understood that the hardest thing in the Yin-Yang profession is not slaying demons or drawing talismans to suppress evil, but waiting.

Wait until the resentment dissipates, until the obsession is released, until those separated by life and death are at peace.

A series of light footsteps sounded outside the courtyard gate, unhurried and with the composure unique to scions of noble families, breaking the tranquility of the courtyard. I looked up and saw Mr. Zheng, dressed in a plain long gown, slowly walking in.

After three months apart, the changes in him were clearly visible to the naked eye.

In the past, he always had a layer of gloom between his brows, his face was pale, and his aura was disordered. The yin energy on his bracelet had depleted too much of his yang energy, and he was like a plant shrouded in yin mist, without any vitality.

At this moment, his face was gentle, his eyebrows and eyes relaxed, and all the anxiety and fear in his eyes had disappeared, leaving only peace and relief. His energy channels were clear and stable, without any trace of the stagnation caused by the yin energy.

On his left wrist, he still wore the sandalwood bracelet. He walked calmly to the stone table, bowed slightly, and was very polite. His movements were steady and respectful, without the panic and pleading he had shown at their first meeting.

"Mr. Qin."

He spoke, his voice gentle and calm, no longer hoarse and trembling as before. He raised his hand and gently stroked the bracelet on his wrist, his fingertips landing on the once dull and lifeless bead. A tender warmth welled up in his eyes.

"I've come today to let you see it again."

I nodded in acknowledgment and placed the Zhenyuan Ancient Mirror on the table.

The mirror-like surface shimmered with silver light, and a warm glow poured out, steadily enveloping the sandalwood bracelet.

Simultaneously, the Qi Observation Technique was activated, and a clear light suddenly appeared in the depths of the eyes, allowing one to see the Qi channels inside the bead clearly.

At that moment, my heart stirred slightly, and a hint of relief flashed across my eyes.

The yin threads that had once clung tightly to the core of the bead and struggled violently had long since lost all their ferocity.

It was no longer the sudden, swift force that wanted to break free of its restraints and devour the living, but had transformed into an extremely fine and soft warm golden thread, gently adhering to the inner wall of the rosewood, like a lingering thought, quiet, long, and without a trace of malice.

The beads are no longer dark and dull, but instead emit a very faint warm white halo, like the thin sunlight piercing through the clouds in winter. It is not intense, but warm enough, wrapped in a layer of mellow father-son affection, making the whole bracelet as warm and smooth as jade.

The resentment has dissipated.

The calamity has passed, and the party is over.

Obsession eventually turns into longing.

"Mr. Qin, you saw it."

Looking at the reflection in the mirror, Mr. Zheng smiled faintly, his eyes slightly reddening, but he didn't shed a tear, only felt a deep sense of peace.

"This bead is warm now. When I touch it at night, it no longer feels cold, no longer makes my heart palpitate, but only makes me feel safe. It's like... my father is quietly by my side, no longer suffering, no longer worrying."

He slowly raised his hand, placed the bracelet against his heart, and gently stroked the warm white bead with his fingertips, his movements as gentle as if he were touching a lost treasure that had been found again.

"I did as you said, without exorcising evil spirits or suppressing malevolent forces. Every day I would quietly burn incense, talk to the beads, talk about family matters, and tell them about my recent situation."

His voice was soft, carrying the warmth of early winter.

"At first there was no change, but as time went on, the beads gradually began to light up. I finally understood the word 'wait' you spoke of. It doesn't mean inaction, but rather not forcing things. Forcing things leads to suppression, while waiting patiently leads to release."

I tapped the stone table lightly with my fingertips, making a soft, rhythmic sound. My gaze fell on that wisp of warm gold, and I spoke slowly:

"The deceased's obsession stems from the living's concern. If you panic, they will feel uneasy; if you are confused, they will find it difficult to let go. When you calm your mind, their obsession will dissipate."

"When you are at peace, his soul will be at peace. This is not the work of magic, but the power of the human heart, the power of kinship to bridge the gap between life and death."

Mr. Zheng nodded emphatically and bowed deeply. This bow was sincere and solemn, a bow to the grace of resolving doubts and to the virtue of guiding the heart.

"Mr. Qin's kindness will be forever remembered by the Zheng family."

I raised my hand to support him, my gaze returning to the "Sudden Walk Intro," and picked up the wolf-hair brush beside me. Dipping it in light ink, I steadily wrote the character "warm" below Zheng Dehou's name.

The ink, when applied to the paper, is calm and warm, like the warm white halo of a bead, like the perfect ending to this obsession.

My second grandfather once said that this booklet records not disasters, but perfect moments.

Every name that has been annotated, every word that has been written, marks the end of a lingering karmic connection, the conclusion of a persistent obsession. And today, I personally draw the gentlest period to this past.

Mr. Zheng sat down and chatted with me for a while. His words were peaceful, without a trace of the sorrow of being plagued by evil deeds.

Before leaving, he took out a brocade box from his sleeve and placed it on the table. It was not a large reward, but a box of fine dragon-scented ink, made by Chen Yanqiu himself. The ink was rich in fragrance and perfect for drawing talismans.

"This is just a small token of my appreciation; I hope Mr. Qin will accept it with a smile."

I did not refuse, accepted the brocade box, and watched him walk away slowly. His back was upright and composed, the sandalwood bracelet on his wrist swayed gently, a warm white light followed him, without a trace of gloom, he had completely walked out of that obsession that crossed the line between life and death.

The courtyard returned to silence, the morning mist gradually dissipated, and the warm sunlight pierced through the branches, falling on the pages of "Sudden Journey," warming the line of ink.

As I stroked the word "warmth" on the paper, my mind became clear.

I believe this is the perfect ending to all the stories, and the complete conclusion to the case of Sudden Encounter.

But at that moment, the Zhenyuan Ancient Mirror in his palm suddenly trembled.

The mirror-like surface rippled with silver light, reflecting the afterimage of the sandalwood bracelet. Deep within the warm gold thread, a barely perceptible blood-red line, as fine as a hair, lay hidden beneath the warmth, silently lurking.

My pupils contracted slightly, and my fingertips tightened abruptly.

The resentment has dissipated, the obsession has dissipated, but where did this blood-red pattern come from?

It's like a deeply buried needle, hidden beneath the perfect circle, silent and unnoticed by anyone.

Is Zheng's father's obsession really just a simple matter of father and son's concern?

What unknown past is this blood-red pattern connected to?

The warm sun was still gentle, and the sandalwood incense was still wafting in the air, but the air around me suddenly felt a bit colder.