Hidden Secret

The tree branch lashed at Du Siling's face, leaving a burning sting. He and Han Beimo ran wildly through the dark woods, while not far behind, Yang Zhiming's men were scanning every bush with flashlights.

"Split up!" Han Beimo suddenly grabbed Du Siling's wrist and whispered in his ear, "Meet at Azalea Valley, remember the coordinates!"

Before Du Siling could respond, Han Beimo shoved him hard and ran in the opposite direction, deliberately snapping tree branches to make a sound. The pursuers were immediately drawn to him, their flashlight beams following the black figure.

Du Siling gritted his teeth and forced himself to turn and sneak to the other side. His father's hard drive and passport were pressed tightly against his chest pocket, pounding against his chest with each rapid heartbeat.

The forest grew denser, the moonlight obscured by the thick canopy, making it almost impossible to see one's hand in front of one's face. Du Siling suddenly lost his footing and tumbled down the steep slope. Sharp rocks and branches tore at his clothes and skin, and he finally came to a stop after crashing heavily into a tree.

A sharp pain exploded in his ribs, and Du Siling curled up, gasping for breath. He touched a warm, damp spot on his waist—probably from being pricked by a branch when he fell. The flashlight beams and voices in the distance reminded him he couldn't linger. He gritted his teeth, got up, and limped forward.

After walking for an unknown amount of time, Du Siling came to a dilapidated hunter's hut. The wooden door was rotten, but it could still provide temporary shelter. He stumbled inside and leaned against the wall to check his injuries. A ten-centimeter-long wound on his waist was bleeding profusely, staining the hem of his shirt red.

Du Siling rummaged through his backpack for a makeshift medical kit, only to find his hands trembling so badly he couldn't treat the wound. Blood loss and pain blurred his vision. In a daze, he touched a hard object in another pocket on his chest—a small book of poems left by his mother, which he always carried with him: "Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair."

The pages were stained with blood. Du Siling instinctively tried to wipe it clean, but found that the blood droplets formed strange patterns on the title page—pale blue writing gradually appeared on the previously blank paper. He stared wide-eyed as lines of text magically materialized:

RH-0 gene carrier test report

Name: Du Siling

Test date: May 9, 2000

Result: RH-0 gene fragment carrier (non-homozygous)

Gene activation conditions: Physical contact with a homozygous carrier reaching a threshold.

Note: Protective dormancy state, expected activation age 25-30 years.

Du Siling's fingers trembled as he traced the words. He was exactly 28 years old this year. And just a few hours earlier, he and Han Beimo had their fingers touching in the car...

Footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door. Du Siling instinctively reached for her pistol, but then heard a familiar voice: "Du Siling?"

Han Beimo. How did he find this place?

The door was pushed open, and the moonlight outlined Han Beimo's tall and slender figure. He saw Du Siling's injuries and immediately knelt down on one knee to examine the wounds, his movements unusually gentle.

"How could you..." Du Siling asked weakly.

Han Beimo frowned, seemingly unsure himself: "I just...felt it. Like someone was calling your name in my head." He tore open Du Siling's shirt, revealing the wound. "It's not deep, but it needs stitches."

Du Siling wanted to show him the report displayed in the poetry collection, but excessive blood loss made his arms feel as heavy as lead. Han Beimo took out a needle and thread from his medical kit and sterilized them by heating them on a lighter.

"Bear with it," he warned, then began stitching.

The moment the needle pierced her skin, Du Siling couldn't help but groan. Han Beimo paused for a moment, then continued, his movements even gentler than before. Strangely, as the stitching progressed, the pain gradually lessened, replaced by a strange warmth that spread from the wound throughout her body.

"Your hands..." Du Siling suddenly noticed that Han Beimo's fingers glowed with a faint blue light under the moonlight, like fireflies hidden under his skin.

Han Beimo saw it too, but he didn't stop: "It's been like this since I can remember. The wound glows when it heals." He paused, "I thought everyone was like this."

With the last stitch complete, Han Beimo cut the thread, his fingers inadvertently brushing against Du Siling's waist. In that instant, the blue light suddenly intensified, forming a clear pattern—very similar to the mark on Han Beimo's lower back, only simpler.

Both of them held their breath. Du Siling felt a warm current flow into her body from the point of contact, and the pain in her wound almost completely disappeared. Han Beimo's eyes shone with an eerie gold in the darkness, and his pupils dilated slightly.

"Did you feel it?" Han Beimo asked in a low, hoarse voice.

Du Siling nodded, but couldn't speak. The feeling was so strange—both unfamiliar and familiar, as if her body had recognized a part of herself that she had long forgotten.

Han Beimo quickly recovered and bandaged his wound: "We can't stay here long. Yang Zhiming's men will find us here soon."

He helped Du Siling up, and the two climbed out of the back window of the cabin and walked along the stream. Du Siling's wound didn't hurt much anymore, and he could even jog a few steps. He touched his waist and found that the skin under the bandage was slightly warm.

"A collection of poems..." Du Siling suddenly remembered an important discovery, and pulled the blood-stained book out of his pocket. "Look."

Han Beimo read the report by moonlight, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper: "'Physical contact with a homozygous carrier reached the threshold'... Am I homozygous?"

"According to my father's notes, your genes are of higher purity," Du Siling recalled, "while I only have partial fragments, which are in a dormant state...until..."

"Until we made contact," Han Beimo continued, his eyes filled with complex emotions. "That's why Chen Yan and Yang Zhiming were so determined to find us. We are a living gene bank."

The sound of barking dogs came from afar, and the two immediately fell silent, hiding in the bushes by the stream. The search team, with police dogs, was moving upstream, less than a hundred meters away from them.

"How far is Azalea Valley?" Du Siling asked in a low voice.

Han Beimo checked the offline map on his phone: "Fifteen kilometers as the crow flies, but we need to go around this ridge." He pointed northeast, "There's an abandoned forest farm there; we can get a vehicle there."

They quietly left the stream and disappeared into the dense cedar forest. Du Siling's strength recovered remarkably quickly, almost keeping up with Han Beimo's pace. The darkness before dawn was the deepest, but they seemed to be able to see the path in the dim light, as if their eyesight had been enhanced.

"Your eyes..." Du Siling suddenly noticed that Han Beimo's pupils were reflecting a faint light like a cat in the darkness.

"Yours too." Han Beimo looked back at him, a rare smile playing on his lips. "Looks like your genes are starting to activate."

Passing through the cedar forest, they came to a steep cliff. Han Beimo easily climbed the rock, then reached out to pull Du Siling up. When their hands clasped again, that strange warmth returned, this time even stronger. Du Siling saw faint blue lines appearing on her arm, forming a symmetrical pattern with Han Beimo's.

"What exactly is this..." Du Siling murmured.

Han Beimo didn't answer immediately. He stared at their clasped hands, his expression a mixture of surprise and a strange satisfaction: "Genetic resonance. My mother's theory—when two compatible RH-0 carriers come into contact, their gene activity mutually enhances each other."

He released his hand easily, and the lines disappeared immediately. Du Siling suddenly felt a strange sense of loss, as if he had lost some important connection.

As dawn broke, they finally saw the outline of the forest farm—a few dilapidated wooden houses and a rusty tractor. Han Beimo gestured for Du Siling to wait, while he quietly slipped inside to scout.

Five minutes later, he returned to report: "Safe. There's an old motorcycle in the back garage; it should start."

The motorcycle was indeed old, but it had plenty of fuel. Han Beimo fiddled with it a few times using his small tools, and the engine roared to life. Du Siling climbed onto the back seat, his arms naturally encircling Han Beimo's waist. Through his shirt, he could feel the other's taut muscles and steady heartbeat.

"Hurry up," Han Beimo said, turning back to Du Siling, his breath brushing against her cheek. "The road is difficult."

The motorcycle bumped along the logging trail, forcing Du Siling to press even closer. Each bump brought their bodies into close contact, and the strange warmth continued, almost completely relieving the pain in Du Siling's wounds.

Two hours later, they reached a fork in the road. Han Beimo stopped his motorcycle and pointed to a cluster of buildings faintly visible in the distant valley: "The Azalea Valley Biological Research Institute. Official records state it closed in 2004, but I found that secret funds have been maintaining some operations."

Du Siling squinted, surprised to find that he could clearly see details a kilometer away—the rusted iron gate of the research institute, the broken windows, even the height of the weeds at the entrance. The RH-0 gene was awakening within him, granting him extraordinary sensory abilities.

"We have to walk the last leg of the journey." Han Beimo hid the motorcycle in the bushes. "There might be surveillance cameras there."

They proceeded cautiously along the ridge, using trees and rocks for cover. Around noon, they finally reached the barbed wire fence surrounding the research institute. A rusty sign on the fence read "Military Restricted Area - No Entry," but it was clearly maintained regularly—the cuts in the barbed wire were fresh.

Han Beimo examined the incision: "Someone came a few days ago." He glanced around warily. "It could have been Yang Zhiming's men, or it could be..."

"Chen Yan," Du Siling continued, "the hard drive mentions that he's been continuing his experiments in private."

They crawled through the barbed wire and crept towards the main building. The research institute was even more dilapidated than it appeared from afar, but the locks on the central laboratory building were brand new electronic models. Han Beimo took a small device out of his pocket and connected it to the control panel.

"You carry an electronic hacking device with you?" Du Siling raised an eyebrow.

"Basic equipment." Han Beimo stared intently at the flashing indicator light. "Boss 101 course."

The door lock clicked softly. Han Beimo put away the device and gently pushed the door open. The inside was surprisingly clean; the hallway floor was spotless, clearly indicating that someone cleaned it regularly.

"Be careful," Han Beimo said in a low voice, "There might be a motion sensor."

They moved along the walls, avoiding potentially monitored areas. Most of the labs were empty; the equipment had long since been removed. But at the end of the corridor, a heavy metal door caught their attention—the biometric device on it was still functioning, emitting a faint red light.

Han Beimo tried several methods but couldn't open it: "Fingerprint or iris recognition required. It might be for a specific person."

Du Siling looked around and noticed the ventilation ducts in the ceiling: "The old way?"

Ten minutes later, they climbed over the ventilation system and descended into the target room through a ceiling vent. Du Siling landed lightly, surprised by his own agility—his physical fitness had only been average when he was at the police academy, but now he felt he could easily complete the special forces obstacle course.

In the center of the room was a well-preserved laboratory with remarkably advanced equipment. The walls were covered with research charts and photographs, one of which was particularly striking—Ling Hua and a young woman stood together, each holding a baby. Below the photograph was the caption: "Our joint decision, May 1995."

Du Siling's heart nearly stopped—the young woman was his mother. And the date... was exactly his birth year.

"This is..." Han Beimo recognized it too, his voice unusually tense.

Du Siling approached and examined the contents, discovering a thick notebook on the lab table titled "Twin Project: RH-0 Gene Stability Test." The first page revealed two sets of baby footprints, marked "Alpha" and "Beta," both dated May 9, 1995.

"We were born on the same day, in the same month, in the same year?" Du Siling looked at Han Beimo in shock. "This can't just be a coincidence."

Han Beimo's expression became incredibly complex. He gently touched the photograph of the two people, his fingers trembling slightly: "My mother and your mother...were they colleagues? Friends? Why have I never heard her mention them?"

Du Siling continued flipping through the record book and discovered more astonishing entries: "'Alpha and Beta exhibit perfect genetic complementarity, and it is predicted that contact in adulthood will activate each other's RH-0 characteristics...' What does this mean? We were... designed?"

Footsteps suddenly came from outside the door, followed by the sound of the electronic lock starting. Han Beimo quickly pulled Du Siling behind a large piece of equipment.

The door opened, and Yang Zhiming's voice came through: "I knew they'd come here. Search every corner!"

Du Siling held her breath and saw through the crack that Yang Zhiming and four fully armed men entered the laboratory. One of them walked to the lab table and picked up the notebook.

"Found it, sir. They've seen this."

Yang Zhiming flipped through a few pages, then sneered, "That saves me the trouble of explaining. Remember, capture Han Beimo alive; he's the original sample. As for Du Siling..." His voice turned cold, "A corpse will do, as long as the brain is intact."

Du Siling and Han Beimo exchanged a glance. Yang Zhiming's words confirmed their suspicions—they were deliberately cultivated genetic test subjects, and this manhunt was far more than a simple battle between police and criminals.

Han Beimo made a gesture, pointing to the ceiling—their escape route. But just then, Du Siling's wound suddenly throbbed with pain, causing him to involuntarily groan.

"Behind us!" Yang Zhiming immediately drew his gun and fired.

The bullet struck the equipment, sparks flying. Han Beimo grabbed Du Siling's hand, and both of them simultaneously felt a surge of electric energy coursing through their bodies. To Du Siling's surprise, her vision suddenly became exceptionally clear; she could even see the trajectory of the bullet spinning in the air.

"Run!" Han Beimo grabbed him and rushed towards the ventilation shaft.

Gunfire erupted behind them, but Du Siling felt she could predict the trajectory of every bullet and nimbly dodge them. The two leaped onto the experimental table; Han Beimo climbed into the ventilation duct first, then reached out to pull Du Siling up.

The instant their fingers touched, a bright blue light burst forth from the point of contact, illuminating the entire laboratory. Yang Zhiming and his men stopped firing in astonishment, while Du Siling and Han Beimo felt an unprecedented surge of power coursing through their bodies.

"Catch them!" Yang Zhiming roared, "At all costs!"

But it was too late. The two quickly climbed into the ventilation system and sprinted through the dark ducts. Angry roars and chaotic gunfire came from behind, but they posed no threat.

In the absolute darkness of the ventilation duct, Du Siling was astonished to find that he could see everything clearly—Han Beimo's crawling figure ahead, the tiny cracks in the duct walls, even the dust floating in the air. Even stranger, he could sense Han Beimo's presence, as if he had an extra compass inside his body, always pointing in Han Beimo's direction.

The RH-0 gene is fully awakening within them, and this escape has only just begun.