The spring had returned to Dragon Pearl City with gentle warmth and renewal. The cherry trees along the riverbanks were in full bloom, painting the city in shades of pink and white, while the fragrance of blossoms filled the air and mingled with the salty scent of the nearby sea. In their office, Mark Li and Lin Wei were organizing files from their recent cases when a visitor arrived unexpectedly.
Alexander, the porcelain prince they had helped months ago, stood in their doorway, his Victorian clothing immaculate and his sketchbook under his arm. He moved with the same graceful confidence that had characterized him since his liberation from Julian Blackwood's persecution. The sunlight streaming through the window caught the delicate features of his porcelain face, creating an almost ethereal glow that made him seem even more otherworldly than usual.
"Alexander!" Lin Wei exclaimed, rising to greet him. "It's wonderful to see you. How have you been? You seem... more peaceful than the last time we saw you."
The porcelain doll smiled his gentle, painted smile and opened his sketchbook. Instead of a drawing, however, he had written a message in elegant calligraphy: *I come seeking your help. There is a place in the city where the spirits are restless, and I fear they may be in danger.*
He then quickly sketched another image—showing himself in his small apartment, surrounded by art supplies and sketchbooks, sunlight streaming through the window. The drawing conveyed a sense of peace and contentment that warmed their hearts.
Mark looked at Alexander with concern. "Danger to spirits? That's unusual. Most supernatural threats we encounter target the living."
Alexander nodded, then quickly sketched a scene that showed a beautiful garden filled with people in traditional Chinese clothing—Tang-style garments that were elegant and colorful. But as they watched, the figures began to fade, becoming increasingly transparent and weak.
"Their connection to the mortal world is weakening," Lin Wei realized, studying the drawing. "But why? And where is this happening?"
Alexander drew another image—this one showing a sign with Chinese characters: 卜公花园. Beneath the sign, he drew a map showing the garden's location in the older district of Dragon Pearl City, near the waterfront.
"Bugong Garden," Mark said quietly. "I've heard stories about that place. It's supposed to be one of the most haunted locations in the city."
Alexander nodded, then drew another series of images that told the story of the garden. The first drawing showed a terrible scene—bodies lying in the streets, people suffering from what appeared to be a deadly disease. The second showed British colonial officials ordering the entire area to be burned, the flames consuming everything. The third showed the same area rebuilt as a beautiful garden, but with ghostly figures still wandering among the living.
"The bubonic plague outbreak of 1894," Mark said grimly, recognizing the historical reference. "Thousands of people died, and the colonial authorities burned the entire quarantine zone to control the spread. But they never properly honored the dead who were buried there."
Lin Wei shuddered. "So the spirits in Bugong Garden are the victims of the plague, trapped between worlds because they never received proper burial rites or recognition."
Alexander nodded again, then drew another image—showing a group of the Tang-dressed spirits gathering in the garden, their forms becoming increasingly faint with each passing night. Above them, he drew a shadowy figure that seemed to be drawing energy from the spirits, causing them to weaken. He then added additional details to the drawing—small glowing tendrils extending from the shadowy figure to each spirit, slowly draining their essence like a spider drawing nourishment from its prey. The spirits in the drawing appeared unaware of the drain, continuing their ghostly activities while growing weaker with each passing moment.
"Something is feeding on them," Mark realized, his voice filled with concern. "That's why they're disappearing. But what kind of entity would prey on plague victims from over a century ago? The spiritual essence of plague victims would be tainted with death energy—corrupted, dangerous to handle."
Alexander looked worried and drew another image—this one showing a figure in dark robes performing some kind of ritual over the garden at night, collecting spiritual energy in a series of glass containers. He added intricate details to the drawing—the containers arranged in a precise geometric pattern, connected by glowing tubes that pulsed with stolen spiritual energy. The dark-robed figure stood in the center, arms raised, chanting words that appeared as twisted symbols in the air above him.
"Someone is deliberately harvesting the spirits' energy," Lin Wei said in alarm, her voice trembling slightly. "This isn't random predation—this is organized, methodical harvesting. But why? What could they want with the essence of plague victims?"
Alexander thought for a moment, then drew a complex diagram that showed a person transferring spiritual energy from one container to another, gradually becoming stronger while the original spirits grew weaker. He added multiple stages to the transformation process—showing the person starting as normal, then becoming surrounded by a dark aura, then developing unusual abilities, and finally beginning to show physical signs of corruption.
"They're trying to transfer the spiritual power to themselves," Mark realized, his voice grim with understanding. "But plague victims' spirits would carry the essence of disease and death. That's incredibly dangerous spiritual energy to work with. It's like trying to harness radioactive material without proper protection—the corruption would be inevitable."
Alexander nodded grimly, then drew another image—showing the dark-robed figure becoming increasingly corrupted by the dark energy they were harvesting, their form becoming twisted and monstrous. He drew the transformation in stages: first the skin taking on a corpselike pallor, then dark sores appearing on the flesh, then the eyes beginning to glow with an unnatural green light, and finally the features becoming distorted and inhuman.
"This needs to stop immediately," Mark said decisively. "Not only is this harming innocent spirits, but the person doing this could unleash something catastrophic on the city."
Alexander showed them one final drawing—this one depicting a young woman in modern clothing, crying in the garden as she watched the spirits fade away. The drawing conveyed a deep sense of loss and helplessness, but also something else—determination and courage in the face of overwhelming supernatural forces. He drew her with tears streaming down her face, but also with her hands clenched into fists, as if ready to fight for the spirits even though she was only human.
"There's someone who can see the spirits and cares about them," Lin Wei realized, her voice soft with admiration. "Someone who knows they're in trouble but doesn't know how to help. That kind of connection to the supernatural world, that empathy—it's rare and precious."
Alexander nodded, then wrote another message: *Her name is Mei Ling. She's a university student studying local history. She's been visiting the garden for months, trying to understand why the spirits are disappearing. She talks to them, tries to comfort them, but she can feel them growing weaker each day.*
"We need to meet her," Mark said. "She might have valuable information about what's been happening in the garden."
As they prepared to leave for Bugong Garden, Alexander seemed hesitant. He drew another image—showing himself trying to enter the garden but being repelled by some kind of spiritual barrier. He drew the barrier as a wall of dark, sickly green energy that seemed to burn his porcelain form when he touched it.
"The dark energy being harvested there is too strong for you," Mark realized, his voice filled with concern. "The concentrated death essence from plague victims, amplified by dark ritual magic—it would be like acid to your pure spiritual nature. It would be dangerous for you to get too close to it."
Alexander nodded reluctantly, then drew another image—showing Mark and Lin Wei entering the garden while he waited nearby, ready to help if needed. He added details showing himself monitoring their progress from a distance, his artistic abilities allowing him to sketch what was happening even from outside the garden's boundaries.
"Alright," Mark agreed. "You wait here at the office, and we'll go investigate. If we need your help, we'll contact you immediately. But Alexander, be careful—if the dark magician senses your presence, he might try to capture you too. Your unique spiritual nature would be incredibly valuable to someone seeking to manipulate supernatural forces."
Bugong Garden was located in the oldest part of Dragon Pearl City, an area that still retained much of its colonial-era architecture alongside traditional Chinese buildings. The garden itself was surprisingly beautiful—a peaceful oasis of greenery, walking paths, and carefully maintained flower beds that provided a stark contrast to its tragic history.
But as Mark and Lin Wei entered the garden, they could immediately sense the supernatural atmosphere. The air was thick with spiritual energy, a mix of sorrow, confusion, and growing fear. It was clear that this was indeed a place where the veil between worlds was thin.
"They're here," Lin Wei whispered, her eyes scanning the garden. "I can feel them—dozens of spirits, all afraid and growing weaker."
Mark closed his eyes, focusing his supernatural senses. "And there's something else here too—dark energy, the kind that comes from deliberately harvesting spiritual power. It's concentrated near that large banyan tree."
As they approached the banyan tree, they saw a young woman sitting on a bench, wiping tears from her eyes. She was in her early twenties, dressed casually in jeans and a university sweatshirt, with a textbook on local history lying beside her. She must be Mei Ling.
"Excuse me," Mark said gently. "Are you Mei Ling?"
The young woman looked up, startled by their approach. "Yes? Do I know you?"
"My name is Mark Li, and this is Lin Wei," Mark said, sitting beside her on the bench. "We're here because we heard you might need some help with the... unusual situation in Bugong Garden."
Mei Ling's eyes widened. "You can see them too? The people in the old clothes? Everyone thinks I'm crazy when I talk about them."
"We can see them," Lin Wei confirmed softly. "And we know they're in trouble. Can you tell us what's been happening?"
Mei Ling took a deep breath, relieved to finally talk to someone who understood. "I've been coming to this garden for months, researching its history for my thesis. At first, I just saw them out of the corner of my eye—figures in Tang dynasty clothing, walking around, talking to each other. But over the past few weeks, they've been fading away."
She pointed toward a group of spirits near the garden's entrance. "There used to be dozens of them, always here in the evenings. Now there are only a few left, and they're so transparent I can barely see them."
"What do they say about what's happening?" Mark asked.
"They don't speak in words," Mei Ling explained. "It's more like feelings, images. They're afraid, confused. They know something is taking their energy, but they don't understand what or why."
Lin Wei looked around the garden, her expression serious. "Has anyone else been coming here late at night? Anyone unusual?"
Mei Ling nodded. "There's a man—I've seen him several times in the past month. He always comes after midnight, dressed in dark robes, carrying some kind of equipment. I thought he was just another researcher at first, but then I saw what he was doing."
"What was he doing?" Mark asked quietly.
"He set up some kind of device near the old banyan tree," Mei Ling said, her voice trembling slightly. "It looked like a series of glass containers connected by tubes. And then... he started chanting in a language I didn't recognize. The spirits began to gather around him, not willingly, like they were being pulled against their will."
"And their energy was flowing into the containers?" Lin Wei guessed.
Mei Ling nodded, her eyes wide with the memory. "The containers started glowing with a strange green light. And as they glowed brighter, the spirits became fainter. I wanted to stop him, but I was terrified. He had this aura of darkness around him, like he was channeling something evil."
"When did you last see him?" Mark asked.
"Two nights ago," Mei Ling replied. "He was here for hours, and when he left, there were even fewer spirits than before. I think he might come back tonight—it's the full moon, and that seems to be important to whatever ritual he's performing."
Mark and Lin Wei exchanged glances. The full moon was indeed a significant time for supernatural rituals, especially those involving the harvesting or transfer of spiritual energy.
"We need to stop him," Mark said firmly. "What he's doing is not only endangering the spirits, but potentially the entire city. The spiritual energy of plague victims is incredibly volatile."
"But how do we stop him?" Mei Ling asked, her voice filled with desperation. "He seemed so powerful, and I'm just a student."
"You're not alone anymore," Lin Wei said reassuringly. "We deal with situations like this regularly. But we'll need your help—your connection to the spirits and your knowledge of this place could be crucial."
As evening approached, they made their preparations. Mark contacted Detective Wang Jun, alerting him to the potential supernatural activity in Bugong Garden. While Wang Jun was skeptical about the threat level, he agreed to have officers patrol the perimeter of the park.
"This entity is using dark magic to harvest spiritual energy," Mark explained to Wang Jun over the phone. "The energy he's collecting is essentially concentrated death essence from plague victims. If he loses control of it, the consequences could be catastrophic."
"I understand," Wang Jun replied, his voice serious. "My team will secure the area and prevent any civilians from entering the park after dark. But you and Lin Wei need to be careful—this sounds like it could be extremely dangerous."
After ending the call, Mark turned to find Lin Wei standing by the window, watching the sunset paint the sky in shades of orange and purple. There was something melancholic about her expression that made his heart ache.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly, approaching her.
Lin Wei didn't turn immediately, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "I was just thinking about the spirits in Bugong Garden. They died alone, terrified, in terrible pain. And for over a century, they've been trapped here, unable to move on, unable to find peace." She paused, then added quietly, "Sometimes I wonder if what we do really makes a difference. There's so much suffering in the world, so many lost souls..."
Mark gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "It does make a difference. Every spirit we help, every person we protect, every balance we restore—it matters. Maybe we can't solve all the world's problems, but we can make things better for the people and spirits we encounter."
Lin Wei finally turned to face him, her eyes reflecting the fading light. "Do you ever get tired of it? This constant battle between light and darkness, never knowing if the next case will be our last?"
"All the time," Mark admitted honestly. "But then I remember why we started doing this—why we continue doing this. And most importantly, I remember that I'm not alone in this fight." He reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "I couldn't do this without you, Lin Wei. Your strength, your wisdom, your compassion—you're the heart of our partnership."
Tears welled in Lin Wei's eyes, but they were tears of gratitude, not sadness. "You're the heart of our partnership too, Mark. Your courage, your determination to protect others even at great personal cost... you inspire me every day."
The moment between them was charged with emotion, a deep connection that had grown stronger through every case they had handled together, every danger they had faced, every victory they had achieved. Slowly, deliberately, Mark leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.
The kiss was gentle at first, then deepened with the weight of all the unspoken feelings between them—all the near-death experiences, all the moments of triumph and sorrow, all the quiet understanding that had developed between them over the years. When they finally parted, they were both breathing heavily, their hearts racing.
"I've wanted to do that for a long time," Mark admitted, his voice husky with emotion.
"Me too," Lin Wei whispered, her face flushed. "I was just too afraid to admit it, even to myself."
"Afraid of what?"
"Afraid of what it would mean for our partnership," she confessed. "Afraid that if we acknowledged these feelings, it might complicate things, make it harder to work together when we face danger."
"Nothing could make it harder to work together," Mark said firmly, taking her hands in his. "If anything, this makes us stronger. We're not just partners anymore—we're everything to each other."
Lin Wei smiled, a genuine, beautiful smile that made his heart skip a beat. "Everything to each other. I like the sound of that."
They stood there for a long moment, simply holding hands and watching the last rays of sunlight fade into twilight. The garden awaited them, filled with danger and supernatural forces that needed to be confronted. But now they faced it not just as partners, but as two people who had finally acknowledged the love that had been growing between them all along.
"We should probably get going," Mark said reluctantly, breaking the spell of the moment.
"Right," Lin Wei agreed, though she made no move to let go of his hand. "Spirits to save, dark magicians to defeat, the usual routine."
Mark laughed softly. "Only us would consider saving souls and stopping evil rituals to be 'the usual routine'."
"That's because it is for us," Lin Wei replied, squeezing his hand. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."
As they finally turned to leave for Bugong Garden, Mark felt a sense of peace and rightness settle over him. Whatever dangers awaited them in the haunted garden, they would face it together—not just as colleagues, but as two people who had found in each other the courage to face any darkness the world might throw at them.
As the sun began to set, the garden transformed. The fading light cast long shadows across the walking paths, and the air grew cooler, carrying the scent of evening-blooming flowers. The spirits began to appear—first just a few, then dozens, gathering in small groups throughout the garden.
"They're more numerous than I expected," Lin Wei said quietly, her supernatural senses reaching out to communicate with the spirits. "And they're terrified."
Mei Ling watched with a mixture of awe and sadness. "There are more of them tonight than I've seen in weeks. It's like they know something important is happening."
"They can feel the full moon," Mark explained. "Lunar cycles affect supernatural energy, and spirits are particularly sensitive to it. They may be drawn here by the moon's energy, even though it puts them in greater danger."
Around 10 PM, a figure appeared at the garden's entrance. He was tall and thin, dressed in dark robes that seemed to absorb the moonlight. In his hands, he carried a complex device made of glass containers and metal tubes, exactly as Mei Ling had described.
"That's him," Mei Ling whispered, ducking behind a cluster of bushes. "The man I've been watching."
Mark and Lin Wei moved closer, staying hidden in the shadows. The man made his way directly to the large banyan tree, moving with a confidence that suggested he had done this many times before.
"He's definitely experienced in dark magic," Mark observed quietly. "See how the ground seems to darken where he walks? That's a sign of concentrated negative energy."
The man set up his device carefully, arranging the glass containers in a precise pattern around the base of the banyan tree. He then took out a small knife and made a cut on his palm, allowing his blood to drip onto the ground in a specific pattern.
"Blood magic," Lin Wei whispered in disgust. "He's using his own life force to power the ritual."
As the blood touched the ground, the air around the tree began to shimmer and distort. The spirits in the garden became agitated, their forms wavering as they were pulled toward the tree against their will.
"No," Mei Ling cried softly, watching the spirits' distress. "Leave them alone!"
The man looked up, his eyes glowing with a faint red light. "Who's there? Show yourself!"
Mark and Lin Wei stepped out from their hiding places. "The ritual ends now," Mark said firmly. "Release these spirits and leave this place."
The man laughed, a sound that was surprisingly young and confident. "You have no idea what you're interfering with. These spirits are not victims—they're carriers of the plague's essence, a power that could grant immortality to whoever controls it."
"You're playing with forces you don't understand," Lin Wei countered. "The spiritual essence of plague victims is corrupted by death and suffering. It will destroy you from within."
The man sneered. "I've spent years studying this energy. I know how to purify it, how to harness its power without being corrupted by it. Tonight, on the full moon, I will complete the ritual and achieve what no mortal has achieved before."
"You're a student, aren't you?" Mark realized suddenly. "From the university. You're not some ancient dark wizard—you're just someone who stumbled upon forbidden knowledge and thought you could control it."
The man's confidence wavered slightly. "I'm more than you could possibly imagine. I've studied texts that have been hidden for centuries, learned rituals that have been forgotten by time. I understand the true nature of spiritual energy."
"Then you should understand that what you're doing is wrong," Lin Wei said firmly. "These spirits are innocent victims of a tragedy that happened over a century ago. They deserve peace, not to be used as fuel for your ambition."
The man became angry, his face twisting with frustration. "You don't understand! This isn't about ambition—it's about transcending mortality! The energy in these spirits can grant eternal life, free from the limitations of ordinary human existence."
As he spoke, he began the ritual in earnest, chanting in a language that seemed to twist the air around them. The glass containers began to glow with the same sickly green light Mei Ling had described, and the spirits were pulled more strongly toward the tree.
"We have to stop him now," Mark said urgently. "Once the ritual reaches its peak, it will be much harder to break."
Lin Wei nodded, already preparing her defensive charms. "The key is to disrupt the flow of energy. If we can break the connection between the spirits and the containers, the ritual should collapse."
As they moved to intervene, the man summoned dark energy around himself, creating a barrier of shadow that pushed them back. "You're too late! The ritual has already begun!"
The battle that followed was intense and dangerous. The man fought with a desperate energy that came from his obsession with achieving immortality. He summoned shadow creatures and threw bolts of dark energy, his movements increasingly frantic as the ritual progressed.
But Mark and Lin Wei were experienced in supernatural combat. Mark created barriers of protective light while Lin Wei used traditional Chinese methods to counter the dark magic. Together, they worked to disrupt the ritual's energy flow.
The turning point came when Mei Ling, seeing their struggle, did something unexpected. She approached the terrified spirits directly, reaching out to them with compassion and understanding.
"You don't have to be afraid," she said softly, her voice filled with genuine empathy. "You don't have to go with him. You can choose to stay, to find peace."
The spirits, feeling her kindness and understanding, began to resist the pull of the ritual. Their connection to Mei Ling's pure compassion created a counter-energy that weakened the dark magic.
"No!" the man screamed, seeing the spirits beginning to break free from his control. "They're mine! I need their energy!"
But it was too late. The combination of Mark and Lin Wei's intervention and Mei Ling's compassionate connection to the spirits was enough to disrupt the ritual completely. The glass containers shattered, releasing the concentrated spiritual energy back into the garden.
The man screamed as the dark energy he had been collecting turned against him, corrupting his body and soul. His form began to twist and distort, becoming something monstrous and inhuman.
"What's happening to him?" Mei Lin cried, horrified by the transformation.
"The energy he was harvesting was too corrupted," Mark explained, creating a barrier to protect them from the backlash. "Without the ritual to contain and purify it, it's consuming him instead."
The transformation was horrific to watch. The man's body twisted and elongated, his skin becoming pale and corpselike. Dark sores appeared on his flesh, and his eyes glowed with the same sickly green light that had filled the glass containers.
"He's becoming a plague spirit himself," Lin Wei realized in horror. "The very energy he sought to control is now controlling him."
The transformed creature let out a terrible cry, a sound that seemed to carry the suffering of centuries. It turned toward them, its movements jerky and unnatural, driven by hunger and madness.
"We need to contain it," Mark said firmly. "If it escapes the garden, it could spread the plague's spiritual corruption throughout the city."
Working together, they created a spiritual containment field around the creature. But it fought back with desperate strength, its corrupted power lashing out at them. The containment field wavered under the assault.
The spirits in the garden, now free from the ritual's control, seemed to understand the danger. They gathered around the containment field, their combined energy helping to strengthen it.
"They're helping us," Mei Ling said in amazement. "Even after everything they've been through, they're still willing to protect the living."
"Their compassion is their true strength," Mark realized. "That's what the dark magician could never understand—he thought power came from domination, but real strength comes from connection and empathy."
With the spirits' help, they managed to stabilize the containment field. But the creature inside continued to struggle, its corrupted energy fighting against the barriers.
"What do we do with it?" Lin Wei asked. "We can't keep it contained forever."
As if in answer to her question, the oldest of the spirits—a woman in elaborate Tang dynasty robes—stepped forward. She communicated not with words, but with feelings and images that all of them could understand.
She showed them a vision of the creature as it had once been—a young student obsessed with achieving greatness, willing to do anything to transcend his human limitations. She showed them his loneliness, his fear of death, his desperate desire for meaning in his life.
Then she showed them another vision—the creature finding peace, releasing its corruption and returning to the natural cycle of life and death. But this peace could only come through acceptance and forgiveness.
"He needs to let go of his ambition," Mei Ling realized, understanding the spirit's message. "He needs to accept mortality and find peace in that acceptance."
"But how can we help him do that?" Lin Wei asked. "He's too far gone in corruption and madness."
The spirit woman showed them one final vision—Mei Ling approaching the containment field, speaking to the creature with compassion and understanding, helping it find the humanity that had been buried beneath layers of dark magic.
"I'll do it," Mei Ling said, her voice trembling but determined. "If there's a chance to help him find peace, I have to try."
As Mei Ling approached the containment field, the creature inside became more agitated, its corrupted form lashing out against the barriers. But Mei Ling stood her ground, her heart filled with compassion rather than fear.
"I know you're still in there," she said softly, her voice carrying through the containment field. "I know you're scared and alone, just like we all are. But you don't have to be afraid anymore. You can let go."
The creature paused, its movements becoming less frantic. Through the distorted features, something almost human seemed to recognize her words.
"You don't have to hold onto all that pain and anger," Mei Ling continued. "You can release it. You can find peace."
Slowly, miraculously, the creature began to calm. The corruption in its form began to recede, replaced by a soft, gentle light. The monstrous features faded, revealing the young man beneath, his expression peaceful rather than tormented.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I was so afraid of being forgotten, of being ordinary. I thought that if I could achieve immortality, I would finally matter."
"Everyone matters," Mei Ling said gently. "Not because of how long we live or what power we achieve, but because of how we touch each other's lives, how we show kindness and compassion."
The young man smiled, a genuine, peaceful smile. As he did, his form began to dissolve, transforming into pure white light that joined with the other spirits in the garden.
The aftermath was quiet and peaceful. The dark energy that had filled the garden was gone, replaced by a gentle, healing light. The spirits, no longer trapped by their tragic history, began to fade gradually, finding the peace they had been denied for over a century.
"Where are they going?" Mei Ling asked, watching the spirits disappear.
"They're moving on," Mark explained softly. "The ritual's interruption and the compassion they experienced helped them break free from their earthly attachment. They're finally finding the peace they deserve."
One by one, the spirits vanished, until only the oldest spirit woman remained. She approached Mei Ling and bowed respectfully, then placed something in her hand—a small, beautifully carved jade pendant that seemed to glow with soft inner light.
"What is this?" Mei Ling asked, examining the pendant.
"It's a gift," Lin Wei realized. "A token of gratitude and protection. The spirits recognize you as their friend and guardian."
The spirit woman smiled at Mei Ling, then faded away, leaving the garden quiet and peaceful for the first time in over a century.
As they left the garden that night, Mei Ling held the jade pendant tightly, her heart filled with a mixture of sadness and hope. "I'll never forget them," she said softly. "Their story deserves to be remembered."
"Then you'll be the one to remember it," Mark said gently. "You can tell their story, help people understand what happened here, not as a ghost story to frighten people, but as a reminder of the human cost of tragedy and the healing power of compassion."
In the weeks that followed, Mei Ling indeed became the guardian of Bugong Garden's memory. She completed her thesis on the garden's history, but she also wrote articles and gave talks about the spirits she had encountered, helping people understand the human stories behind the supernatural legends.
Mark and Lin Wei visited the garden occasionally, finding it now filled with ordinary living people enjoying the peaceful surroundings. The supernatural atmosphere was gone, replaced by the gentle energy of a place that had finally found peace.
And in the quiet moments, when the sun set over Dragon Pearl City and the garden was empty except for the evening breeze, sometimes they could almost hear the soft laughter of spirits who had finally found their way home—free from the shadows of their tragic past, and forever grateful to the young woman who had shown them compassion in their darkest hour.