Yin (阴) is the cooling, moistening, quietening half of the pair — substance, fluid, night, rest. Yang (阳) is the warming, moving, waking half. Neither is good or bad, and the tradition is not interested in more of one. It is interested in whether they hold each other in check.
That makes this pattern subtle in a way readers often miss. The heat in yin deficiency is not extra heat. It is ordinary heat with nothing left to bank it down, which is why the classics call it 虚热 xū rè, vacuity heat, and why it behaves so unlike a fever: it rises in the late afternoon, peaks at night, and is gone by morning.
The kidney (肾) holds the deep reserve, called 精 jīng, essence — the account a body draws on over a lifetime rather than over a week. Liver, heart and lung yin can run short more locally, giving dry eyes, restless nights, or a dry unproductive cough.
Level and secure, not maximal. Two thousand years of clinical writing follow from that adjective choice, and it is why the suggestions in a report for this pattern are almost all subtractions: less late, less hot, less stimulant, less noise.