The silence that followed Shen Lian's words was almost unnatural. It sat in the air like smoke, heavy and unmoving. Qin Yuelin's lips trembled, the color drained from his face. Zhao Liren's hand, which had been resting on the arm of the couch, slowly tightened into a fist.
"What… what did you just say?" Zhao Liren's voice cracked. "You mean she… that woman you mentioned earlier was real, Shen, she was real? i thought you were fucking with me"
Shen Lian didn't answer at first. His eyes were fixed on the mirror hanging across the room... the one with the faint scratches on its edges. The one that suddenly looked like it was breathing.
Li An swallowed hard. His reflection seemed to waver, like ripples disturbing water. "Stop staring at it," he whispered. "It's just a mirror."
But it wasn't.
The air shifted. A faint hum started to echo through the room, low and trembling like the last note of a forgotten song. The light bulbs flickered once, twice, then steadied. The sound of breathing filled the silence... but it didn't belong to any of them.
Then she appeared.
A silhouette formed inside the mirror, smooth and slow, as if rising from the depths of black water. It was a woman, tall and slender, her face completely erased. No eyes, no mouth, no trace of human softness. Just the shape of a head where nothing should be.
Li An stepped back so fast he hit the table behind him. His breath caught in his throat. "What… what is that?"
The figure tilted its head to one side, as though studying them from behind the glass. Then it spoke.
"Qin Yuelin…"
The voice was music, honey poured over poison.
"Qin Yuelin…"
Each time she said the name, her tone grew sweeter, slower, until the sound of it seemed to wind through their veins.
Shen Lian's eyes went wide. He wanted to move, to shout, to grab them both and drag them out of that apartment, but he couldn't. The voice had caught him too. It was soft, rhythmic, almost beautiful.
"Qin Yuelin… Qin Yuelin…"
The lights dimmed. The temperature dropped so sharply that vapor curled from their mouths. Zhao Liren's hand reached for Li An, fingers trembling, but even that touch felt distant, dreamlike.
Li An stared at the mirror, transfixed. His name kept echoing, that same voice threading into his thoughts like silk binding his mind.
The reflection of the room twisted, shadows bending in impossible ways. For a heartbeat, the faceless silhouette seemed to step closer to the glass, pressing its palms flat against the inside surface. Her fingers left no prints, only trails of black fog that spread like cracks across the mirror.
"Stop…" Li An whispered. His voice was small, a child's voice in the dark. "Please stop."
The voice didn't stop. It grew lighter, almost playful.
"Qin Yuelin, come back to me…"
Then... a sound broke through it.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Hard, violent, echoing through the hall.
The three of them jumped. The mirror flickered, the silhouette froze.
Another knock. Louder this time.
Then everything changed.
The lights blazed back to life. The cold vanished. The hum was gone. The mirror reflected only their own terrified faces.
Shen Lian gasped for air like a man waking from drowning. Zhao Liren stumbled forward, clutching his chest. "What the hell was that?" he whispered.
Before anyone could answer, the knocking came again... softer now, hesitant.
Zhao Liren glanced at the others. "Stay here," he muttered and moved toward the door.
The room still felt wrong, though. Shen Lian's instincts screamed at him... something unseen still lingered in the corners, watching.
Li An stood frozen near the mirror, eyes unfocused. His lips moved faintly, as though he were repeating the name he'd just heard. Shen Lian noticed the slight tremor in his hands. His skin had gone pale, his pupils slightly dilated.
"Yuelin," Shen Lian said gently. "Hey, look at me."
But before Li An could respond, Zhao Liren shouted from the hallway.
"Shen! You need to see this!"
The urgency in his tone sent both of them running.
Zhao Liren stood in the doorway, breathing heavily. In his hands was a small square box... red paper, gold ribbon, elegant, like a gift from someone who cared too much.
"What's that?" Shen Lian asked.
"It was just… sitting there," Zhao Liren said quietly. "Right outside our door."
He set the box down on the table. The three of them stared at it. The ribbon was tied perfectly, but something about it felt wrong... the edges of the paper were slightly burnt, as if singed by fire.
Li An swallowed. "Don't open it."
Zhao Liren hesitated, then tore the ribbon away. The lid came off with a faint sigh.
Inside were five charred human fingers.
The smell hit them first... that awful, unmistakable stench of burnt flesh.
Li An staggered back, gagging. Zhao Liren's face went white as chalk. He dropped the box, and it hit the floor with a dull thud. The fingers rolled slightly, blackened and stiff, each nail still faintly visible.
A small folded paper sat beneath them. Shen Lian picked it up with gloved hands, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The handwriting was elegant, careful, almost graceful.
"Qin Yuelin, I know where you live."
Li An's knees gave way. Zhao Liren caught him before he hit the floor, pulling him into his arms. "Hey, hey, don't look at it," Zhao whispered. "It's okay. Just breathe. Look at me, Yuelin. Look at me."
Shen Lian was already moving, grabbing his coat and his gun. "I'll find whoever did this," he said sharply. "Lock the doors, don't open them for anyone."
He was halfway down the hallway before Li An could speak.
Zhao Liren held him close, rocking slightly as if that could protect him from the image still burning behind his eyes. "It's over," Zhao murmured. "Whatever that was, it's gone."
But Li An didn't answer. His gaze drifted toward the mirror once more...and for a fleeting second, the faint outline of a handprint shimmered on the glass before fading into nothing.
Rain had begun to fall by the time Shen Lian reached the street.
The city was quiet in that strange hour between midnight and morning, when even shadows seemed to sleep. Water glimmered across the pavement like veins of liquid glass, reflecting distorted fragments of streetlights.
He moved fast, the wind scraping against his skin, breath fogging in the cold. The box's image... the blackened fingers, the elegant handwriting... wouldn't leave his mind. It followed him like the echo of something whispered too close to the ear.
"Who the hell are you," he muttered, scanning the empty street.
He called his team, his voice low and steady despite the tremor in his hands. "Suspect may still be nearby. Apartment E-4. Get here fast."
Static filled the line. Then a faint reply: "Copy that."
He ended the call and looked around.
The air felt different out here. It wasn't just the cold. It was the stillness... the kind that didn't belong in living places. Windows stared down like blind eyes. A faint sound came from somewhere beyond the narrow lane... something wet dragging against asphalt.
Shen Lian followed it.
His boots splashed through puddles. The streetlight above flickered, throwing long, broken shadows that stretched and shivered like dying things. The sound grew louder. A breath. A shuffle. Something struggling to move.
He turned the corner... and froze.
There, by the edge of an alley, lay a man.
At first, Shen thought he was dead. The figure was slumped against the wall, one arm twisted unnaturally beneath him, head bowed. Rain trickled down his hair, turning the concrete beneath him red.
Then he moved. Just barely. A shiver, a faint exhale.
Shen rushed forward, crouched beside him.
"Hey," he said, voice low but firm. "Can you hear me?"
The man flinched. Slowly, painfully, he lifted his head.
Shen felt his stomach twist.
His face was a ruin... bruised, swollen, one eye nearly shut. Blood ran from a gash across his temple, soaking the collar of his shirt. But it wasn't just the injuries. There was something in his expression... a terror so deep it looked like it had hollowed him out from the inside.
He tried to speak, but only a rasp came out. Shen leaned closer.
"Who did this to you?"
The man's eyes flicked up. They weren't focused... darting toward the street, the walls, the darkness beyond. Then his cracked lips moved.
"She's coming," he whispered.
Rain hissed harder around them, as if the night itself wanted to drown the sound.
"Who?" Shen pressed.
The man's gaze shifted past him, to the reflection trembling in a puddle nearby... a faint, blurred shimmer of movement that didn't belong to either of them.
Shen turned, hand on his gun, but there was nothing. Only the dripping walls and the distant hum of the city.
When he looked back, the man was trembling uncontrollably, eyes rolling white. "She said his name," he croaked. "She kept saying it… again and again… and he..."
"Who said it?"
The man's voice broke into a sob. "The mirror…"
For a moment, the streetlight above them flickered again.
Shen caught the reflection in the puddle... a face forming where there should've been none. Not the man's. Not his own. Something smooth and faceless, hovering behind them.
He blinked, and it was gone.
The man tried to move, but his strength gave out. Shen caught him before he fell, supporting his weight. "Stay with me," he said quickly. "Help's on the way."
The man's fingers gripped his sleeve weakly. His touch was cold... not from the rain, but from something deeper, something that felt like it had been pulled from a grave.
"She… she wants him," he breathed. "Qin Yuelin. She won't stop until-"
His voice cut off, eyes snapping open wide as if he'd seen something behind Shen.
"What is it?" Shen turned.
Nothing. Only rain.
When he looked back, the man's lips were slightly parted, breath gone.
For a long moment, Shen didn't move. The sound of rain filled everything, steady and merciless. Then he reached for his radio.
"Found one male victim," he said quietly. "Severe trauma. Possibly dead. Location-"
He stopped mid-sentence.
From the end of the alley, something shimmered. A faint shape... a figure standing in the rain, watching. Too far to see clearly, but the outline was unmistakable. A woman. Still. Faceless.
The puddles around Shen rippled, though no wind blew.
He blinked once, and she was gone.
Only the echo of her voice remained... soft and haunting, carried through the rain like a half-forgotten song.
"Qin Yuelin…"
The streetlight went out.
And the chapter ends.