The next morning, Rui's phone rang at 7:00 a.m., jolting her awake. She fumbled for it, her head throbbing from the late night of dumplings and tea with Ye. The caller ID read "Mike," and she groaned, answering.
"Rui, we got a problem," Mike's voice said, urgent. "NYU old campus. Dorm 404. Student says the person in his painting moves. And there's a cross—same as Chinatown. Blood-red."
Rui sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Same cross? You sure?"
"Positive. The student sent photos. It's identical. And get this—three students have jumped from that dorm's roof in the past five years. All from room 404." Mike paused. "Ye's with you, right? You'll need him."
Rui looked at her phone, smiling. Mike's skepticism had faded overnight—progress. "We'll be there in an hour." She hung up, then texted Ye: NYU dorm 404. Moving painting. Blood cross. Need you.
His reply came seconds later: On my way. Bring the jade pendant.
Rui threw on a black t-shirt and jeans, grabbed her blazer, notebook, and gun, and headed out the door. Ye was waiting for her outside her apartment, leaning against his bike—a beat-up black motorcycle with a peachwood sword strapped to the side.
"Morning," he said, grinning. "Sleep well?"
"Like a rock," Rui said, climbing onto the back of the bike. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he revved the engine. "Lead the way."
The NYU old campus was in the East Village, its red-brick buildings ivy-covered and imposing. They parked the bike on the street, and Ye grabbed his canvas bag—now filled with cinnabar, talismans, and the bronze mirror. A crowd of students had gathered outside dorm 404, whispering and pointing at the third-floor window.
Mike was there, talking to a campus police officer. He waved them over. "The student's name is Xiao Ma. He's my roommate's cousin—said he'd only talk to us." He nodded at the dorm. "Room 404, third floor. The painting's still there."
They walked into the dorm, the hallway smelling like pizza and laundry detergent. Xiao Ma was waiting outside his room, a chubby kid in a NYU hoodie, his face pale. He jumped when he saw Ye, then relaxed. "Shaoyang ge! Thank god you're here. I thought I was going crazy."
Ye clapped him on the back. "You're not crazy. Tell us what happened."
Xiao Ma led them into the room. It was small, with two beds, two desks, and a window overlooking the quad. Above Xiao Ma's desk hung a large oil painting—Cliff in the Wilderness, according to the plaque on the frame. It depicted a desolate gray cliff, a tiny human figure standing at its edge, the sky dark with storm clouds.
"Last night, I was studying," Xiao Ma said, pointing at the painting. "I looked up, and the figure's arm was raised—like it was waving. I thought I was tired, so I went to bed. But I had a dream—dreamed I was that figure, standing on the cliff. I felt someone pushing me, and I almost fell. Woke up screaming. When I looked at the painting this morning… the figure's arm is still raised. Yesterday, it was at its side."
Rui stepped closer to the painting, her hand hovering above the canvas. She felt the familiar cold tingle of Yin energy, faint but persistent. "I can feel it," she said, closing her eyes. "It's trapped in there. The figure—it's a spirit."
Ye pulled out the bronze mirror, holding it up to the painting. The mirror's surface rippled, and a face appeared—pale, with high cheekbones and long black hair, smiling coldly. It was a man, his eyes black as tar.
"Feng Qin," Ye said, his voice tight. "A painting spirit. Trapped in the canvas for centuries. Feeds on fear—specifically, the fear of falling. That's why the students jumped. He pushed them."
The figure in the mirror spoke, its voice like static. "Miss Feng wants you to visit the Yin Nest… soon. She's waiting."
The mirror shattered, shards flying across the floor. Ye stepped in front of Rui, his sword raised, but Feng Qin was gone. The painting went dark, the cliff and figure vanishing into blankness—like someone had painted over it with black ink.
Rui touched the canvas, her fingers tingling. "'Miss Feng'—Feng Xinyu? But she's at rest."
Ye knelt, picking up a mirror shard. "She was. But someone freed her. Or… she's not the one calling the shots. Feng Qin owes her a debt—spirits trade favors. She freed him, now he has to do her bidding. Find the Yin Nest."
Xiao Ma backed away, tripping over a backpack. "I'm out. I'm staying with my cousin tonight. This room's cursed."
Ye nodded. "Smart move. Lock your cousin's door. If you see a white shroud or a cross, call me immediately." He handed Xiao Ma a small talisman. "Keep this with you. It'll repel Yin energy."
Xiao Ma took the talisman, stuffed it into his pocket, and grabbed his backpack. "Thanks, Shaoyang ge. Thanks, Agent Rui." He hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Rui turned to Ye. "Yin Nest. What is it?"
Ye pulled a map from his bag—an old one of Chinatown, marked with red X's. "Lao Guo gave me this last night. Dao Feng marked the army hospital's location before he disappeared. It's on Canal Street, now a parking lot. But the basement—where the soldiers were treated, where Feng Xinyu was killed—still exists. That's the Yin Nest. A place where Yin energy is so thick, it can trap spirits… or bring them back."
Rui leaned over his shoulder to look at the map. Their shoulders brushed, and she felt a warm tingle—different from the cold of Yin energy. She pulled away, clearing her throat. "We need to check it out. But it's 10 a.m.—too early to get a search warrant. The city'll never approve a warrant for a 'Yin Nest.'"
Ye smiled, folding the map. "Since when do we need warrants for ghosts?" He slung his bag over his shoulder. "We go tonight. When the Yin energy is strongest. But first—we need to learn more about Feng Qin. Why is he tied to the Yin Nest? What does Feng Xinyu want with it?"
They left the dorm, the hallway now empty. Mike was waiting outside, his arms crossed. "Any luck?"
"Painting spirit—Feng Qin," Rui said. "Tied to Feng Xinyu. She wants us to go to the Yin Nest—basement of the old army hospital on Canal Street." She handed him the map. "We're going tonight. Need backup—someone to watch the perimeter, keep the cops away."
Mike took the map, studying it. "I'll get the team. Meet you there at 9 p.m." He paused, looking at Ye. "You sure you know what you're doing?"
Ye grinned. "More than you."
They walked back to the bike, and Ye helped Rui climb on. "Want to stop for coffee?" he asked, revving the engine. "I know a place on Mott Street—best latte in Chinatown. They put matcha in it. You'll like it."
Rui smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Lead the way, partner."
As they rode down the street, Rui thought about Feng Qin, the Yin Nest, and Dao Feng. Feng Xinyu was supposed to be at rest—so why was she still pulling strings? And what did the Yin Nest have to do with Dao Feng's disappearance?
She looked up at Ye's back, his hair blowing in the wind, and felt the jade pendant warm against her chest. Whatever was waiting in the Yin Nest, they'd face it together.
And this time, they'd find Dao Feng.