At Blake Auction House in the Town of New Paltz, New York State, newlyweds Mark and Annie Telesca stood before an antique family portrait from 1910, their eyes filled with fascination.
"Mark, look at the brushwork. It's so delicate!" Annie rose onto her toes, her fingertips brushing the carved frame, her voice full of excitement. "The father in this painting has such a stern gaze, like he's staring at us, but also hiding some secret."
Mark wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her head, and said with a smile, "Antiques are all like that. The more mysterious, the more valuable. Hang it above our living room fireplace, and the neighbors will be green with envy."
The Merchant Family Portrait was vividly lifelike: the father, Isaiah Merchant, sat in the center in a dark suit, his brow furrowed and his gaze severe; his wife, Elizabeth, sat beside him, looking tenderly at their two sons; the brothers Jacob and Thomas stood beside their mother, smiling brightly; their adopted daughter, Melanie, stood alone in a corner, her eyes evasive, as though she feared something.
That night, the lights in the Telescas' living room went out without warning. Moonlight slipped through a gap in the curtains, casting a long, narrow shadow across the floor. In the portrait, Isaiah's pupils seemed to shift slightly, his formerly forward-facing gaze slowly turning toward Melanie in the corner.
Annie had just washed up and lain down in bed, ready to sleep, when she heard the piercing scrape of fingernails against the bedroom door. Puzzled, she got up to turn on the light, but the door locked itself with a click. The wardrobe door slowly opened, and the figure of a little girl in an old white dress floated out, an old-fashioned razor gleaming coldly in her hand.
Ten minutes later, Mark went upstairs with a cup of hot milk. The instant he pushed the door open, the cup crashed to the floor. Annie lay in a pool of blood, her throat neatly slit, her wide-open eyes filled with terror. Mark's scream caught in his throat. The white figure had already floated behind him. The icy sensation of a razor slicing through his skin and the suffocation of blood flooding his lungs were the last things he felt.
Early the next morning, the sheriff arrived with his officers after a neighbor called the police. His brow knotted as he looked at the locked doors and windows and the two bodies. He crouched beside the razor on the floor, which bore no fingerprints, and murmured to his deputy, "This doesn't look like something a human could have done. The doors and windows were locked from inside, with no signs of forced entry. It's as if the killer appeared out of thin air, then vanished again."
Sitting in the Impala's passenger seat, Sam took out John's hunting journal after reading the news and rapidly flipped through its pages. Suddenly, he stopped, his voice grave. "Dean, look at this-1912, 1945, 1970. Three identical locked-room throat-slitting cases in upstate New York. The victims all bought the same family portrait, and each case happened exactly thirty years apart."
Dean held the steering wheel, a teasing smile curling his lips. "Great immortal Bai, come on, cast a divination and see what's going on."
Bai Haorui rolled his eyes and tossed his notes aside. "You're full of crap. Why don't we just go investigate?"
As the car pulled onto the highway, a translucent system panel suddenly appeared before Bai Haorui's eyes, and a line of golden text slowly emerged in his mind: [Main quest triggered: Break the portrait's curse], quest reward: physique +0.5. He mentally ordered the panel closed, took a string of Five Emperor Coins from his backpack, and rubbed the cold copper coins with his fingertips, thinking this case probably wouldn't be so simple.
It was already afternoon when the three arrived in the Town of New Paltz. Inside Blake Auction House, the owner's daughter, Sarah Blake, crouched on the floor, sorting through the Telescas' belongings. She wore an ivory knit sweater, her long hair loosely pinned behind her head, revealing her slender neck. Thin-framed glasses rested on her nose, and her focused expression gave her a scholarly air.
The moment Sam entered the auction house, the art history book in Sarah's hands caught his eye. It was an out-of-print study of nineteenth-century portraiture that he had spent a long time searching for without success. He couldn't help approaching her. "You study nineteenth-century portraits too? I've been looking for that book for almost a year."
Sarah looked up and saw the matching art history notebook in Sam's hand. Her eyes immediately brightened. "You study art history too? I'm a graduate student at Columbia University, specializing in Victorian portraiture."
They immediately began discussing the portrait's brushwork, use of light and shadow, and historical context. Sam pointed to the brushwork in the Merchant Family Portrait. "Look here. The artist used Rembrandt-style chiaroscuro to emphasize Isaiah's imposing presence, but used soft lighting on Melanie's face, creating a sharp contrast."
Sarah nodded in agreement. "Exactly. That's what I find most interesting. Melanie is standing in the corner, yet she has the softest lighting. It's as though the artist was hinting at something."
The more they talked, the better they got along, moving from the artist's life to the historical background, completely ignoring the other two. Dean nudged Bai Haorui's arm and teased under his breath, "See that? My little brother's ready to use his looks to crack the case. Look how much fun he's having."
Bai Haorui responded to him, took out his Five Emperor Coins, and quietly approached the Merchant Family Portrait hanging on the wall. When the coins were still half a foot from the portrait, their dull surfaces suddenly emitted a dark red glow that flickered as though something were drawing it toward the painting.
Bai Haorui frowned, tightening his fingers around the coins. "Something's wrong with the resentment in this painting. There's more than one vengeful spirit's presence. It's like two souls are tangled together."
Seeing the two standing so close to the portrait, Sarah approached curiously. "What do you do?"
Dean immediately flashed his fake badge, his voice utterly serious. "Federal Bureau of Investigation. We're investigating the Telescas' murders. This painting is key evidence."
Surprise crossed Sarah's face. She turned and went into the office, returning with a thick stack of provenance documents. "These are all the painting's sales records. Ever since it first changed hands in 1912, every buyer has met with misfortune." She pointed to Melanie standing in the corner and lightly tapped the canvas. "Look at this adopted daughter. Her eyes are strange, as though she's afraid of Isaiah, but also hates him."
Sam took the documents and pulled up a photograph of the original 1910 portrait on his phone. After a careful comparison, he suddenly noticed an eerie detail. He pointed to Isaiah's eyes. "Look. In the original photograph, Isaiah is looking straight ahead. But in the painting now, his eyes are clearly turned toward Melanie."
Bai Haorui took a small bottle of cinnabar from his pocket, dipped a fingertip into it, and lightly dabbed Isaiah's pupils in the painting. The moment the red cinnabar touched the canvas, it rapidly blackened, as though something had corroded it. He withdrew his finger, his voice serious. "This is a sign of concentrated resentment. Isaiah's soul is trapped in the painting, and he's been trying to convey some kind of message."
Sarah stared at the blackened cinnabar in disbelief. "Are... are you really with the Federal Bureau of Investigation?... This is unbelievable. Could it really be like the legends, with souls in paintings haunting people?"
Sam nodded. "We suspect this painting has something to do with the Telescas' deaths."
In the end, the three decided to destroy the portrait first. Late that night, they sneaked into the auction house, carefully took down the Merchant Family Portrait, stuffed it into the Impala's trunk, and drove to an empty patch of ground outside town.
Dean took out his lighter and ignited the gasoline on the ground. Flames whooshed upward, licking the portrait's edges. Watching the flames swallow it, he dusted off his hands and smiled. "Done."
But Bai Haorui stared at the burning portrait, his frown deepening. He could sense that the resentment in the air hadn't dispersed. Instead, it had intensified, as though the flames had enraged it. He took out his Five Emperor Coins, which glowed an even brighter dark red than before. "Something's wrong," he said. "The resentment hasn't dispersed. It's grown stronger. I'm afraid this isn't as simple as we thought."
Dean curled his lip, clearly not taking his words to heart. "You're just too cautious. Set it on fire, and any vengeful spirit will burn to ash."
Yet when the three returned to the auction house the next day, the sight before them left them completely stunned. The Merchant Family Portrait hung undamaged in its original place. Isaiah's gaze had returned to facing forward, as though last night's burning had never happened. Sarah stood before it, her face deathly pale, her voice trembling. "How... how is this possible? After you left yesterday, I specifically had someone throw this painting away!"
"What? You had someone throw it away yesterday afternoon? But we saw it hanging perfectly fine on the wall last night!" Sam said in confusion, turning to Bai Haorui and Dean.
"Huh? Last night? Our auction house isn't open at night. How did you see it?" Sarah asked.
"Ahem, well, let's not talk about that here. We've still got something to do. We'll talk next time." Bai Haorui grabbed Sam and Dean and hurried out of the auction house.
"Are you an idiot, man? Were you going to tell her we sneaked into her auction house last night to steal something?" Once outside, Bai Haorui turned to Sam and complained.
"All right, I wasn't thinking that much at the time."
"My foolish little brother..." Dean put on a solemn expression, his eyes full of laughter.
"All right, cut the crap. Let's find some information on the family in the portrait and see if there are any clues." Bai Haorui turned toward the car.
They went to the basement of the town library and spent the entire afternoon searching dusty old newspapers and unreleased files. When Sam read an autopsy report from 1912, he finally found the crucial clue.
Holding the report, he jogged over to Bai Haorui and Dean, who were chatting about this and that with Sarah, who had come looking for them, and called out, "I found it! Isaiah wasn't the killer!"
Dean and Bai Haorui immediately gathered around him. Sam pointed to the report, his voice excited. "In April 1912, the Merchant family was massacred. The police concluded that Isaiah killed his wife and children and fled to escape punishment. But this unreleased autopsy report shows that Isaiah's body was found in a paupers' cemetery three days after the murders. He died a day before his wife and children! He couldn't possibly have killed his family!"
Sarah leaned closer, shock spreading over her face as she read the report. "Then who was the killer? Could it have been... But what do you actually do? The Federal Bureau of Investigation wouldn't investigate things like this!"
Just then, Sarah's phone suddenly rang. It was her friend Evelyn. When she answered, Evelyn's excited voice came through. "Sarah! I just bought that family portrait from your auction house. I've hung it in my bedroom. You have to come over tonight and see it. It's so atmospheric! The people in it look like they're about to come alive."
Sam's expression changed drastically. He immediately shouted into the phone, "Evelyn! Listen to me! Throw the painting out! Right now! Immediately!"
But it was already too late. A piercing scream came through the phone, followed by the ripping sound of a razor slicing through a throat. Then there was nothing but a cold busy signal.
They drove swiftly to Evelyn's house. The moment they pushed open the bedroom door, they saw another body with its throat slit. Evelyn lay on the bedroom floor, her blood staining the carpet red. The Merchant Family Portrait hung on the bedroom wall, Isaiah's eyes once again turned toward Melanie, while Meilanni's gaze seemed to proclaim her "victory" triumphantly.
Bai Haorui crouched before the portrait and took out his Five Emperor Coins. Their glow had nearly turned blood-red. He closed his eyes, sensing the resentment in the painting, and said gravely, "The vengeful spirits have completed an energy cycle inside the painting. Ordinary burning won't work at all. We have to find its source and break this double curse."
Bai Haorui took an object wrapped in yellow silk from his backpack and unfolded it layer by layer. Inside was a palm-sized bronze mirror, its surface polished smooth, its back engraved with a taiji diagram and the eight trigrams. Seven tiny copper coins were set around its edge-this was the Yin-Yang Mirror he had made himself using the method in his grandfather's notes.
Bai Haorui had made this Yin-Yang Mirror while camping outside town after dealing with Mordecai Murdock. Following his grandfather's notes, he had completed the complex ritual step by step.
He had collected bronze patina from an ancient tomb he had previously dealt with and purchased seven copper buttons in Chinatown. Mixing copper and tin in a 1:1 ratio, he added these special materials and smelted a bronze alloy capable of Spirit Communication.
He selected fine clay, mixed in rice husk ash and fine sand, and shaped a mirror blank, carving a taiji diagram and the eight trigrams into its back. After drying it in the shade, he fired it to set its shape. At the hour of utmost yang, he laid out a Five Elements Formation in the center of the campsite: green wood in the east, red fire in the south, white metal in the west, black water buried in the north, and yellow earth in the center. Then he poured the molten bronze alloy into the mold.
After the molten bronze cooled, he repeatedly polished the mirror with dark tin powder and white sheep's wool until it clearly reflected even the finest hairs of his brows and temples. For the consecration, he chose the moment at dusk when the sun and moon shone together. He placed a basin full of clean water in the clearing and set the mirror faceup over it. Mixing blood from his middle finger with cinnabar, he drew a Yin-Yang Union Talisman on the mirror's back while reciting the Treasure Mirror Consecration Spell: "By decree, let the treasured mirror shine bright; let sun, moon, and stars surround it with light. Shine upon heaven, and heaven shall clear; shine upon earth, and earth shall awaken; shine upon people, and people shall live long; shine upon ghosts, and ghosts shall perish. Swiftly, in accordance with the decree!"
The consecration lasted all night. He changed the talismans and orientation during the dragon, horse, and dog hours. Finally, he bound the yang mirror and yin mirror back-to-back with red cord, wrapped them in yellow silk, and buried them in the campsite's southeastern corner. Only after retrieving them seven days later was the Yin-Yang Mirror truly complete.
Now, holding the Yin-Yang Mirror, Bai Haorui slowly aimed it at the Merchant Family Portrait on the wall. In its reflection, the otherwise normal portrait suddenly distorted, and two overlapping shadows gradually emerged: one was an enraged male vengeful spirit, Isaiah, whose figure struggled constantly in the mirror as though shouting; the other was a little girl's vengeful spirit, Melanie, holding a razor, an eerie smile on her face and malice filling her eyes.
"The truth is," Bai Haorui said gravely, "Melanie was the real killer."
Combining this with the information Sam had found, the three finally reconstructed the tragedy:
- Before the Merchant family adopted Melanie, she had been sent to an orphanage for murdering her biological parents and was considered severely violent.
- After adopting her, Isaiah discovered Melanie's abnormalities and disciplined her strictly, even restricting her freedom. This deepened Melanie's hatred, though she had been a psychopath to begin with.
- In April 1912, Melanie killed Elizabeth and her two younger brothers with a razor, then committed suicide. Before dying, she arranged the scene to frame Isaiah, leaving him branded as the man who murdered his wife and children.
- Unable to rest because of the injustice, Isaiah's soul was bound to the portrait. He awakened once every thirty years, trying to warn people of Melanie's danger by changing the direction of his gaze. But people mistook him for the killer, and few noticed the change.
- Melanie's vengeful spirit was also attached to the portrait. Every thirty years, she used the energy of Isaiah's resentment to kill its new owner, continuing her enjoyable game of murder.
After hearing this, Dean couldn't help saying, "Unbelievable. This guy was the king of taking the blame. Isaiah took the fall for nearly a hundred years."
Bai Haorui nodded. "Taoism speaks of 'injustice and resentment repaying one another.' Isaiah's injustice and Melanie's hatred intertwined to form a double curse. Ordinary methods couldn't possibly break it."
Following clues from the old newspapers, the three drove to the paupers' cemetery on the edge of town. Weeds choked the cemetery, and most of the gravestones were badly damaged. Isaiah's was particularly crude, bearing only the faded inscription, "Isaiah Merchant, 1870-1912."
Bai Haorui took mugwort and cinnabar from his backpack and laid them around the gravestone in a Spirit-Gathering Formation. "Isaiah's soul is trapped in the painting because his remains haven't been laid to rest. I'll use a Taoist deliverance ritual to free his soul from its bonds."
Standing before the gravestone, Sam took out a printed account of Isaiah's life and slowly began to read. His voice was low and clear as he recounted Isaiah's kindness, his love for his family, and the injustice he had suffered. Meanwhile, Dean scattered salt around the gravestone, forming a circle to prevent outside yin energy from interfering.
When Sam reached the injustice Isaiah had suffered, the inscription on the gravestone seemed to flicker slightly. Bai Haorui raised his peachwood sword toward the sky and recited the Spirit Deliverance Spell: "Heaven and earth, clear and bright; let the wronged soul find peace. Wash away all sin, and pass into the netherworld."
Dean lit the salt-sprinkled firewood. Flames whooshed upward, their warm light illuminating the desolate cemetery. At that moment, in the Merchant Family Portrait, which had returned to the auction house, Isaiah's figure gradually faded until it vanished completely.
A system notification appeared before Bai Haorui's eyes: [Wronged soul Isaiah delivered. First quest stage complete. "Wronged Spirit Deliverance Spell" unlocked.]
After delivering Isaiah's soul, the three immediately hurried back to Evelyn's house and discovered that Melanie's vengeful spirit had manifested-a little girl in clothing from 1910, holding a razor and advancing toward Sarah one step at a time.
Sarah hid behind the sofa in terror, her body trembling uncontrollably. "Stay away... stay away..."
Sam immediately pulled out an ultraviolet lamp and aimed it at Melanie's vengeful spirit. Under the ultraviolet light, Melanie let out a piercing scream, her body turning transparent in an instant, but she soon returned to normal. "You ruined my game! I'll kill you!"
Bai Haorui suddenly recalled an entry in his exorcism notes. "Some vengeful spirits exist by attaching themselves to objects. Melanie's obsession is so strong that she must have a core anchor."
Sam immediately searched the inventory of the Merchant family's belongings and discovered that after Melanie's death, a porcelain doll among her possessions had been buried in the family mausoleum.
Dean drove to the Merchant family mausoleum while Bai Haorui and Sam stayed behind to hold off the vengeful spirit. Inside the mausoleum, Dean found Melanie's porcelain doll-its hair was real human hair, Melanie's own. He took out his lighter and set the doll on fire. The instant the hair began to burn, Melanie's vengeful spirit let out a piercing scream at Evelyn's house, and her body began to turn transparent.
Bai Haorui seized the chance to throw an Evil-Breaking Talisman, sticking it to the spirit. "Someone like you deserves nothing but complete annihilation of the soul."
Melanie's vengeful spirit finally dissolved into black smoke. The portrait on the wall instantly turned dull, and Melanie's figure vanished from it as well.
Looking at the dulled portrait, Sarah said shakily, "This painting is terrifying. We have to destroy it completely."
The three took the portrait outside town. Bai Haorui inscribed the Painting-Burning Spell on its frame in cinnabar, and Dean ignited the gasoline. As the portrait burned, it made no strange sounds, as though a century of resentment had finally been released.
A notification appeared on Bai Haorui's system panel: [Quest complete. Reward: physique +0.5.]
After the case ended, Sarah invited the three to stay for dinner. Candlelight flickered over the table. She had prepared a generous spread of home-cooked dishes, and the warm atmosphere dispelled the gloom of what had happened.
Watching Sarah bustle about, Sam thought of Jessica, and pain stabbed through his heart. He stayed silent for a long time before finally gathering his courage to speak. "Sarah, I used to have a girlfriend. She was gentle like you, loved art, and loved to smile. But she was afraid of the world we dealt with. Those supernatural horrors made her feel unsafe."
His voice caught slightly, his eyes full of pain. "Since then, I've been afraid to get close to anyone. I'm afraid everyone I care about will leave me, afraid I'll bring disaster on them."
Sarah put down her fork and gently took Sam's hand. Her fingertips were warm and soft, her eyes filled with sympathy and understanding. "Sam, I know how painful it is to lose someone you love, but you can't keep living in the past. Those terrible things you've experienced weren't your fault. You've always worked hard to protect other people. That's already remarkable."
She paused, then continued, "Jessica would surely want you to live well and find happiness of your own. You deserve to be loved, Sam."
Sam looked up into Sarah's gentle eyes, and the ice in his heart seemed to melt little by little. He turned his hand to clasp hers and nodded firmly. "Thank you, Sarah. I... I haven't talked to anyone like this in a long time."
Bai Haorui and Dean sat nearby, quietly drinking beer without disturbing them. Seeing Sam's expression, Dean smiled with relief. He patted Bai Haorui's shoulder and murmured, "Looks like my brother can finally get over being dumped."
Bai Haorui nodded and smiled too. "It's a good thing for him."
After dinner, Sam decided to stay in town with Sarah for a few days. Dean and Bai Haorui drove away, the setting sun stretching their shadows long.
On the road, Dean teased, "Little Sammy's still got plenty of charm. She won over that art history whiz in no time."
Bai Haorui rolled his eyes. "They share the same interests. Unlike you, who just sweet-talks girls."
Dean burst out laughing and stepped on the gas.