The Secret of the Mountain Island

The helicopter landed on an inconspicuous little island in the East China Sea, which appeared to be just an ordinary weather station. Du Siling stepped out of the cabin, a salty sea breeze hitting him, carrying a strange metallic smell. In the distance, the waves crashed against the rocks, their rhythm seemingly synchronized with his own quickened heartbeat.

"Welcome to Base Zero." General Huo led them towards the main building. "The three levels above ground are legal research facilities; the truly important ones are underground."

The soldiers maintained a wary distance; though they didn't raise their guns, their fingers never left the triggers.

Han Beimo walked beside Du Siling, the two deliberately maintaining a physical distance, afraid of triggering excessive genetic resonance again. Since the resonance ritual, their connection had become more sensitive, sometimes even a single glance could cause a brief overlap of consciousness.

The interior of the main building was no different from that of an ordinary research institution, with staff in white coats coming and going. But when General Huo swiped the elevator card and pressed the B15 button, the atmosphere suddenly became tense.

"Dr. Shen is locked on the lowest level," General Huo's voice sounded unusually somber as the elevator descended. "He hasn't seen sunlight in fifteen years."

The elevator descended for a full two minutes, and Du Siling's eardrums buzzed from the pressure changes. When the doors finally opened, a pure white corridor came into view, ending at a transparent glass wall. Behind the wall, an elderly man with white hair stood with his back to them, writing dense formulas all over the wall.

"Dr. Shen," General Huo called softly, "I've brought them."

The old man slowly turned around. Du Siling gasped—Dr. Shen's eyes were cloudy white, clearly indicating he was blind. But his movements were exceptionally precise, as if he could "see" everything around him.

"Alpha and Beta?" Dr. Shen's voice was hoarse but powerful. "Finally... I've waited too long."

General Huo entered the password and opened the airlock. Du Siling and Han Beimo entered the cell and were immediately surrounded by formulas on the walls. The symbols and equations didn't resemble any known mathematical or physical system; they seemed more like some kind of self-created language.

"What is this?" Han Beimo asked, frowning.

"Genetic music," Dr. Shen smiled, "the symphony of life."

He suddenly turned to Du Siling, his gaze fixed precisely on his position despite being unable to see him: "Read the third line, child. The seventh formula from the left."

Du Siling didn't understand, but he did as he was told. When he recited the complex equation, Dr. Shen suddenly grabbed his wrist with surprising force.

"You remember!" the old man exclaimed excitedly, "I knew it was hereditary!"

Du Siling looked at Han Beimo in shock, who also looked bewildered. General Huo quickly stepped forward to explain, "Dr. Shen believes that certain knowledge can be transmitted through genetic memory. That equation was created by him when he was young, and only he knows it."

Dr. Shen released his grip and fumbled under the mattress to retrieve a yellowed brain scan: "Look, this is me at thirty-five." Then he pointed to Du Siling, "And here in you—" He touched Du Siling's temple, "—there's the exact same neural structure pattern."

Du Siling took the scan images for comparison, and a chill ran down her spine—indeed, some brain regions were strikingly similar.

"This is impossible..." he murmured.

"Of course it's possible," Dr. Shen said excitedly. "You are a continuation of my genetic lineage. Linghua learned the technology from me, but she went further... She created a true twin system."

Han Beimo interrupted, "Why are we here? General Huo said you know the solution."

Dr. Shen's expression suddenly turned serious: "Yes. But first, you must understand who you are." He turned to General Huo, "Take them to the Red Room. It's time."

General Huo nodded, signaling the two to follow. Before leaving the cell, Du Siling noticed a photograph on Dr. Shen's bedside table—a young Ling Hua and a bespectacled man standing in a laboratory, with a culture chamber filled with red liquid between them.

The elevator continued its descent, this time reaching floor B20. As the doors opened, Du Siling's breath caught in her throat—the entire floor was a vast circular space, with a pool of water in the center blooming with blood-red azaleas. The flowers were much larger than ordinary azaleas, their petals possessing a peculiar metallic sheen.

"Where is this place?" Han Beimo asked warily.

"The Origins Chamber," General Huo replied. "The first successful twins were born here."

He led them toward the pool. Upon closer inspection, the edges of the azalea petals were unusually sharp, like miniature blades. The ground around the pool was etched with patterns similar to the marks on the backs of the two men, only more intricate.

"Take off your shirts and step into the pool," General Huo said. "The flowers will collect your blood samples to activate the system."

Du Siling and Han Beimo exchanged a glance. Through their connection, they shared their assessment—the risk was extremely high, but it might be their only chance. The two slowly removed their shirts, revealing more and more scars on their upper bodies—some were real wounds, while others were "mirror-image scars" created by genetic resonance.

The moment their feet touched the water, the azaleas in the pond suddenly came to life, their petals trembling slightly and emitting a barely audible high-frequency sound. Du Siling stepped into the pond, the icy water reaching above his ankles. A petal grazed his arm, immediately leaving a thin, long trail of blood.

"Hiss—" Du Siling gasped, not because of the pain, but because of the strange sensation—as the petal brushed past, he simultaneously felt a stinging pain on Han Beimo's lower back.

Han Beimo also stepped into the pool and was cut by the petals as well. Their blood dripped into the water, but instead of spreading, it condensed into small beads like mercury and flowed along a specific path towards the center of the pool.

"Now, hold each other's hands," General Huo instructed from the poolside. "Let the system read your connection status."

Du Siling and Han Beimo stood facing each other, their hands clasped together. In an instant, the entire room lit up—the patterns on the walls emitted a blue light, forming a huge double helix structure that perfectly matched the markings on their lower backs.

"Perfect match." Dr. Shen's voice came from the overhead speaker; he was clearly observing via monitor. "Now, close your eyes and let the connection flow freely."

Du Siling did as instructed and immediately felt a powerful flow of energy coursing through his body. This was unlike any previous connection experience—not a sharing of memories or emotions, but a deeper, atomic-level resonance. He felt himself being disassembled to his most basic components and then rewoven with another being.

In a daze, he saw countless images flash by:

—Young Ling Hua and Ren Yuqing operating equipment in the laboratory;

—Two babies holding hands in the incubation chamber;

—My father, Du Zhiyuan, secretly met with General Huo;

—Han Beimo was locked in the basement by his father;

—Standing before my father's grave...

These images accelerated rapidly, eventually merging into a single white light. Within this light, Du Siling sensed an existence—both herself and Han Beimo, yet neither herself nor Han Beimo. A grander, more complete consciousness.

"This is oneness," the consciousness whispered, "brief but beautiful."

When the white light faded, Du Siling found himself still standing in the pool, tightly holding Han Beimo's hand. But at this moment, he could perceive the world from two perspectives simultaneously—his own eyes were looking at Han Beimo, and Han Beimo's eyes were looking at him. This dual perception was both chaotic and wondrous.

"Did it succeed?" General Huo asked eagerly.

Du Siling and Han Beimo spoke simultaneously, their voices strangely layered: "Partially successful. We experienced oneness, but didn't maintain it."

The double helix pattern on the wall transformed into a countdown: 72:00:00.

"Seventy-two hours." Dr. Shen's voice rang out again. "The system calculates that you will reach the irreversible fusion point in seventy-two hours. Before then, you must make a choice."

"What choice?" they both asked in unison.

General Huo walked to a small control panel by the pool and entered the password. A hidden compartment opened in the ground, revealing two syringes, one red and one blue.

"Red is the stabilizer, which will permanently maintain your connection—neither completely merged nor separated," General Huo explained. "Blue is the separating agent, but only one dose is sufficient."

Du Siling and Han Beimo immediately understood the cruel meaning: red meant that the two would forever live in this semi-fused state; blue meant that one of them could return to normal, while the other...

"What will happen?" Du Siling asked, her voice no longer in sync with Han Beimo's.

General Huo's expression turned pained: "Those who receive the blue injection will become gene carriers, bearing the entire RH-0 gene load. Theoretically, they can survive, but they will... be changed."

"Change it to what?" Han Beimo pressed.

"It's uncertain," General Huo admitted. "Some of the previous test subjects became vegetative, some developed extreme abilities, and some...didn't survive."

Just then, the alarm suddenly went off, and red light filled the entire room. General Huo's communicator crackled with an urgent report: "General, Chen Yan's men have breached the outer defenses! They'll be at your location in three minutes!"

General Huo's expression changed drastically. He quickly grabbed two syringes and handed them to Du Siling: "There's no time to explain. Remember, red means twins, blue means sacrifice. The choice is yours."

He pressed a hidden button on the wall, and a narrow passage opened behind the pool: "This tunnel leads to the submarine dock. The password is the reverse of your birthdays—950509."

Just as Du Siling and Han Beimo stepped into the passageway, General Huo suddenly called out to them, "Wait!" He took off his military tag and tossed it to Han Beimo, "If anything happens to me, this contains all the information you need."

Han Beimo caught the military license plate and asked shrewdly, "Why are you helping us? You're risking treason."

A flicker of unspeakable pain crossed General Huo's golden eyes: "Because..." His voice choked, "they kidnapped my twins. Twenty years ago. I need your successful experience data to rescue them."

Before any response, General Huo abruptly pressed the close button. Just as the passageway door was about to close, Du Siling saw a squad of fully armed soldiers rush into the Red Room, led by Chen Yan. General Huo turned to face them, slowly raising his hand to the air—not in surrender, but in the gesture Du Siling recognized: thumb and little finger extended, the rest of his fingers bent.

The door closed, shutting everything out. Du Siling and Han Beimo ran through the dark tunnel, clutching the two syringes that would decide their fate.

The tunnel seemed endless. After running for about ten minutes, the two had to slow down. Although Du Siling's leg injury had healed, it still ached slightly. Worse still, the dual perception began to become unstable, sometimes clear and sometimes blurry.

"We need to make a decision," Han Beimo suddenly stopped, "while we can still think independently."

Du Siling examined the two syringes under the dim emergency light. The red liquid was thick like blood, while the blue was clear and transparent. A simple choice, a cruel consequence.

"Red," Du Siling said without hesitation, "We'll bear this situation together."

Han Beimo shook his head: "No. Look at yourself." He pointed to Du Siling's arm—where the lines of Han Beimo's scars were slowly emerging on the skin. "The connection is eroding you. In seventy-two hours, it might be too late."

"And what about you?" Du Siling retorted. "Do you think I didn't notice you started using my shooting stance? Yesterday you even unconsciously revealed a secret from my childhood—something even Lin Yue didn't know!"

The two faced off in the tunnel, their breathing rapid. Through their connection, they both saw each other's true thoughts—Du Siling would rather remain in a semi-fused state forever than let Han Beimo take the risk; Han Beimo, on the other hand, was determined to sacrifice himself to restore Du Siling to normal.

"Listen," Han Beimo's voice softened unusually, "in the Red Room... during the moment of unity, I saw a possible future."

What future?

"If I maintain the connection..." Han Beimo's voice became unusually strained, "it will ultimately harm you. It's not intentional, but the RH-0 gene is stronger within me and will gradually overwrite your patterns."

Du Siling recalled Dr. Shen's words about "the continuation of the gene line" and suddenly understood something: "You think of yourself as the carrier, and I am... the evolved version?"

Han Beimo didn't answer directly, but instead brought up another topic: "Do you know why I never pick the azaleas?"

Du Siling shook her head.

"Because it can slightly inhibit gene activity." Han Beimo gently touched the withered flower on his collar. "My mother discovered it. Her last words before she died were, 'Put this flower on Xiao Bei, don't let them fully activate him.'"

Faint footsteps and shouts came from the distance of the tunnel. The pursuers were coming. The two had no choice but to continue, but the argument did not stop.

"Inject the blue solution into me," Han Beimo said as he ran. "That's the most reasonable plan."

"No!" Du Si refused sharply. "We'll find another way. Dr. Shen said, 'Twins don't necessarily have to kill each other; they can also coexist.'"

"Then why did he only prepare one blue injection?" Han Beimo countered. "Because he knew that ultimately, one person had to bear the entire burden!"

Du Siling suddenly stopped and grabbed Han Beimo's shoulders: "In the Red Chamber... during the moment of oneness, what did you see? The part of you that would hurt me?"

Han Beimo's eyes flickered, and Du Siling immediately captured the scene through the connection—the future Han Beimo (or some being similar to Han Beimo) stood in a pool of blood, with...

"That's not me," Du Siling said firmly. "That's your fear, not reality."

Han Beimo broke free: "You don't understand! My father's blood flows in my veins. That violence, that madness—it's in my genes, waiting to be activated!"

Du Siling recalled Han Beimo's drunken confession: "I hate violence, yet I live by violence." At the time, he only saw the surface meaning, but now he truly understood the fear behind it.

"You are not your father," Du Siling emphasized again. "Genes don't determine destiny. Over these fifteen years, you've had countless opportunities to become him, but you chose to fund orphanages, protect the vulnerable... and wear that damned azalea!"

A light appeared at the end of the tunnel. The two quickened their pace, rushing out of the tunnel, only to be met with a steep cliff and surging waves below. A small elevator platform was perched on the cliff face, leading to the submarine dock at the bottom.

"The last leg of the journey," Han Beimo said, his voice unusually calm, "and then we made a decision."

They boarded the elevator platform. As the machine slowly descended, Du Siling suddenly felt a strong wave of dizziness—the connection became unstable again. He grabbed the railing, only to see his hand transform into Han Beimo's, and then back again.

"Too fast..." Han Beimo was also affected, cold sweat beading on his forehead. "Dr. Shen underestimated the speed of fusion."

When the platform had descended halfway down, Du Siling made his decision. Taking advantage of Han Beimo's momentary lapse in attention, he snatched the blue syringe and aimed it at his own neck.

"No!" Han Beimo reacted quickly, grabbing his wrist. "What the hell are you doing?"

"A more reasonable plan, remember?" Du Siling struggled. "I'm a police officer, my duty is to protect the public—including you!"

"To hell with your duty!" Han Beimo roared, a rare occurrence for him, his eyes gleaming with golden light. "You think I'd let you sacrifice yourself for me? And then live on with your memories intact?"

Their struggle triggered a deeper connection. For a fleeting moment, they were once again briefly "one." This time, it was even more intense than in the Red Room—a direct clash of ideas, without the buffer of water.

Du Siling saw the deepest part of Han Beimo's heart: the little boy locked in the basement, the child crying beside his mother's corpse, the gang leader who swore he would never become a father... and also, the complex and indescribable feelings he had for Du Siling, deeper than friendship and more intense than family affection.

Similarly, Han Beimo saw everything about Du Siling: the emptiness brought about by her father's death, the heavy burden under the police badge, the self-doubt during her undercover work... and the lingering attachment to "Xiao Bei" that never disappeared.

The collision of these naked souls was so intense that the two simultaneously let go, and the blue syringe fell onto the platform, rolling towards the edge.

"No!" The two lunged forward at the same time, but it was too late—the syringe slipped through the gap and fell into the surging waves below.

Du Siling and Han Beimo knelt on the edge of the platform, watching their only hope of separation vanish. Ironically, they were now more clearly separated than ever before—the aftershocks of their reunification had temporarily stabilized their connection.

"Now..." Du Siling smiled bitterly, "only red is left."

Han Beimo didn't answer, but instead gazed at the rising sun over the distant sea. The sunlight shone on his sharply defined profile, gilding his eyelashes. Du Siling suddenly recalled a morning at the orphanage, when two little boys huddled by the window watching the sunrise.

"Remember?" Han Beimo asked softly, "We were always the first to wake up and watch the sunrise."

Du Siling nodded, his chest tightening. It wasn't a memory obtained through a connection, but one he truly remembered—the "Xiao Bei" who had been suppressed by drugs for many years had finally returned to his memory.

The elevator reached the bottom. The two silently walked towards the waiting mini-submarine. Whether they chose red or sought a new solution, they knew one thing—in seventy-two hours, either a solution would be found, or things would change forever.

In the distance, the rising sun leaps completely out of the sea, dyeing the water the blood-red color of azaleas.