The road to Shengde Neuro-Psychiatric Facility was lined with skeletal trees, their branches clawing the fog like desperate hands. Ruoxi's hands gripped the edge of the car seat as Zeyan drove in silence.
Neither of them had spoken since the call.
"Lin Qian is still listed under observation," the contact had said."But… there was a disturbance last night. Someone breached the private wing."
Ruoxi turned to Zeyan. "You think she escaped?"
Zeyan's jaw was tight. "Or someone didn't want her to talk."
He didn't say it out loud, but they both knew who might be behind it — Professor Yan Ming or someone still funding the remnants of Project Twin Flame.
The moment they reached the tall iron gates, Zeyan flashed his credentials. The guard hesitated, then buzzed them through.
The facility loomed like a ghost out of time. Cracked walls. Flickering lights. The smell of antiseptic and something rotting underneath.
A nurse met them at the front desk. "You're here for… Room 409?"
Ruoxi nodded.
The nurse hesitated. "You should prepare yourselves."
Room 409 was open.
The bed was still made, but bloodstained gauze lay scattered across the floor.
The window was slightly ajar, the curtains fluttering like breath.
No patient.
Just a single sheet of paper pinned to the headboard.
Ruoxi moved closer, heart pounding.
It was a drawing — in charcoal.
Two girls. One locked in a cage. The other holding the key. Both had her face.
And at the bottom, a message written in a shaky hand:
"She remembers. And they know."
Ruoxi staggered back. "This was Linyue. She was here. And someone took her."
Zeyan scanned the corners of the room, noting the scuff marks near the window.
"She didn't leave willingly," he said. "There was a struggle. Whoever came for her was prepared."
Ruoxi's voice cracked. "We were too late."
But Zeyan's expression changed as he pulled something from under the bed — a small voice recorder, hidden beneath the mattress.
He pressed play.
Click. Static. Then… her voice.
"…They call me Lin Qian. But I know who I am now. I know what they did. To her. To me. To us. If Ruoxi is listening… I remember the pond. The red ribbon. The lullaby."
Ruoxi gasped. "The pond behind the Mo estate. We used to throw pebbles in it. I had a ribbon…"
The voice continued.
"They said I died in the fire. But I didn't. They rewrote me. Tried to delete me. But something in me held on — a flicker, a whisper. And now I know the truth: Only one of us was born. The other was made."
Click. End.
Zeyan stared at her. "You weren't twins."
Ruoxi's skin turned cold. "Then what are we?"
Back at the Mo estate, Ruoxi stood in front of the pond she hadn't visited in years.
It was smaller than she remembered — a mossy, silent witness to a forgotten past.
She crouched down and ran her fingers along the smooth stones.
Something caught her eye — a shimmer beneath the water. A sliver of red fabric caught between rocks.
She pulled it free.
A red ribbon.
Memories exploded behind her eyes.
A little girl screaming.Another pulled into white arms, sedated.Men in lab coats. Mirrors. Screams.
She clutched her head, gasping for air.
Zeyan rushed to her side. "Ruoxi!"
"I… I remember." Her voice was trembling. "They pulled her away from me. They told me she was imaginary. But she was real. We were real."
Zeyan looked toward the mansion, eyes shadowed. "Which means someone has been lying from the start. About your identity. About hers. About Project Twin Flame."
Elsewhere…
In a dim room illuminated only by a flickering projector, Linyue sat in a straight-backed chair.
Her wrists were bandaged, her eyes glassy but awake.
A man stepped forward from the shadows.
Not Professor Yan — but someone younger. Cold eyes. Sharp voice.
"You've come a long way, Lin Qian," he said mockingly.
She smiled slowly. "That's not my name."
He frowned. "Your medication says otherwise."
"I stopped taking them," she replied. "I remember now. Mo Linyue. Daughter of Qinghua. Mirror of Ruoxi."
He walked behind her.
"Do you remember the fire?"
"Yes," she said calmly. "And I remember who lit it."
He stiffened.
She leaned back, her voice like a whisper through glass.
"And I'm not alone anymore."
Later that night…
Ruoxi stared into her mirror, the ribbon tied around her wrist.
Her reflection blinked — half a second late.
For the first time, she smiled at the delay.
"Hang on, Linyue," she whispered. "I'm coming for you."