The abandoned apartment complex reeked of mold and forgotten lives. Ruoxi coughed into her sleeve as Zeyan led her up the crumbling staircase, his flashlight cutting through the dark.
"Are you sure this is where he's hiding?" she whispered.
Zeyan nodded. "Zhao Ren was Professor Yan Ming's lab assistant for six years. He disappeared after the shutdown of Project Twin Flame. My men traced him here last week."
Ruoxi didn't say anything, but her hands were ice-cold. If what she'd read in the files was even half true, Zhao Ren might hold the final piece of the puzzle.
Zeyan knocked once on the door. No response.
He knocked again, more firmly.
A rusted voice croaked from inside. "Go away."
"We're not here to expose you," Zeyan said calmly. "We just want answers."
Silence. Then, the sound of shuffling and three bolts unlocking in slow sequence.
The door creaked open, revealing a man with trembling hands and haunted eyes. His beard was long, face sunken, but his mind — sharp. He eyed them warily.
"You brought her," he rasped, staring at Ruoxi. "She shouldn't exist."
Ruoxi stepped forward. "That's what we're here to understand."
Inside, Zhao Ren's living room was a graveyard of paper stacks, shredded research files, and a half-burned white lab coat.
Zeyan took a seat. Ruoxi remained standing.
"Start from the beginning," Zeyan said. "What was Project Twin Flame?"
Zhao chuckled bitterly. "A dream turned nightmare. A study in behavioral mirroring, emotional imprinting, and... biological cloning."
Ruoxi blinked. "Cloning?"
Zhao nodded. "You weren't born as twins. There was only one real child. Mo Linyue. The other… was created. From her."
Ruoxi's knees buckled. She gripped the chair for support.
"I'm… a clone?"
"No," Zhao said gently. "Not exactly. You're a genetically modified derivative — part mirror, part enhancement. They used Linyue's DNA as a base, then made 'adjustments.' Faster cognition. Emotional dampening. Better compliance."
Zeyan's eyes narrowed. "Who authorized this?"
Zhao's smile faded. "You already know. Professor Yan was the architect, but the sponsor — the real mastermind — was someone with a personal stake."
He turned to Ruoxi.
"Someone who wanted a daughter… not a messy, emotional girl like Linyue. Someone who funded the labs, erased identities, and planted you in society."
Ruoxi froze. "Who?"
Zhao stood, walked over to a desk, and pulled out a single photograph. He handed it to her.
Ruoxi gasped.
It was her adoptive mother. Tang Meilan.
The woman who raised her. Who told her she was abandoned. Who kept her on sleeping medication for most of her childhood.
Zeyan stood instantly. "Are you certain?"
Zhao nodded. "Meilan visited the lab weekly. She pushed Yan to discard Linyue when she began resisting the treatments. Said she wanted a child who would be 'perfect.'"
Ruoxi's hands trembled.
"I thought she saved me. That I was lucky to be adopted."
Zhao's face softened. "You weren't adopted. You were installed into her life. Groomed to believe she rescued you — so you'd never question your past."
Zeyan clenched his fists.
"Why was Linyue kept alive?"
Zhao hesitated. "As a backup. In case you failed behavioral assessments. They couldn't afford to lose both. So they sedated her, reconditioned her mind, and kept her under as 'Lin Qian.' But she never broke, not completely."
Ruoxi whispered, "She held onto me."
"Yes. And that's what terrified them."
Zeyan stepped forward. "Where would they take her now?"
Zhao's eyes darted to the window. "There's only one place left. A hidden annex. Deep in the mountains north of Qingcheng. It's off-grid, old military zone turned private lab."
He pulled out a folded map. "You'll need this. They've likely gone fully dark."
Ruoxi clutched the map.
"I have to get her out."
Zhao looked between them. "You're both walking into fire. They'll try to erase you again — both of you."
Ruoxi straightened, fire in her chest.
"Then let them try."
Later that night, back at the Mo estate, Ruoxi sat alone in the atrium, staring at a childhood painting on the wall — a field of red poppies.
The painting used to bring her comfort.
Now it mocked her.
She touched the pendant around her neck — a gift from Tang Meilan on her 7th birthday. Inside was a hair strand preserved in resin.
She took it out.
Her fingers trembled as she opened the testing kit Zeyan had given her earlier.
If she's not your biological mother, this will tell us.
Two hours later, the results blinked green on the screen.
No genetic relation.
Tang Meilan wasn't her mother.
She was her handler.
Meanwhile… at the Qingcheng Annex.
Linyue opened her eyes slowly.
The white walls. The machines. The IV drip in her arm.
They'd drugged her again.
But this time, she was pretending.
She heard voices behind the mirrored glass.
"She's unstable," one said."We should begin Phase II.""Ruoxi's getting too close."
Linyue turned her head slightly, lips curling in a weak smile.
They thought she was alone.
But she remembered everything now.
And soon, her sister was coming.