standoff
The dull echo of the soundproof door closing in the studio seemed to isolate two worlds. Jiang Mo stood alone in the empty space, the boundless night outside the window, the only companions inside being the low hum of the server. Shen Zhiyan's complex glance before leaving was like a pebble thrown into a still lake, the ripples lingering long afterward.
She did as instructed, locking all the entrances and activating the studio's basic defensive jamming devices. Then, she walked to the workbench, her gaze falling on the dark blue jewelry box and the yellowed letter paper. Since Shen Zhiyan was facing the immediate crisis, all she could do was continue digging for clues from the past. She put on gloves, carefully picked up the stack of letters, and untied the rubber band that had lost its elasticity.
The handwriting on the letter and the one behind the jewelry box photograph belong to the same person—fluid and beautiful, the woman named "Qing." These appear to be her early research notes and essays, spanning over thirty years. The content is extremely broad, ranging from the emotional reflection of architectural space to early ideas for neural network algorithms, imaginative and full of insightful observations ahead of its time.
On the back of a page filled with various function sketches, Jiang Mo discovered a more private text that had nothing to do with academics:
"...Huaiming and I argued again today. He still can't understand why I insist on combining the emotional 'spatial poetry' with cold 'algorithmic logic.' He thinks it's futile, a departure from the purity of architecture. Perhaps he's right; this path is destined to be lonely. But when I see the preliminary model able to deduce the emotional fluctuations that humans might experience within it through changes in environmental parameters, the thrill I feel, as if touching the core of creation, is something no one can understand. I named this unfinished project 'Heartfield,' hoping that I can see it sprout in my lifetime..."
"Heart Domain"... Jiang Mo murmured this name, full of contradictory beauty. Shen Huaiming opposed it back then, so why did the capital company he later established take the name "Mingyan"? Did it conceal some unspoken compromise or commemoration? And what connection does Li Qingyun's unexpected death have with this unfinished "Heart Domain" project?
She continued flipping through the pages and found a line of small writing in the corner of another sheet of paper, as if it were a casual note:
"...The log of Experiment No. 3 is backed up in the 'old place,' hopefully it will never be used."
The usual place? Jiang Mo's heart skipped a beat. She immediately picked up the black and white photograph and carefully examined the Bauhaus-style building in the background. Although the nameplate at the building's entrance was blurry, the words "Beichen" could still be vaguely discerned.
Beichen… She quickly used the encrypted device to search and found that there was indeed a private research institute called “Beichen” in the suburbs of the city. It was founded decades ago by scholars who had returned from overseas and focused on cutting-edge interdisciplinary research. However, it gradually declined and was abandoned more than 20 years ago, shortly after Li Qingyun’s death.
Meanwhile, outside the special intensive care unit of the city's central hospital, the atmosphere was somber.
After passing through layers of identity verification and security checks, Shen Zhiyan was finally allowed to enter the ward. Shen Huaiming lay on the hospital bed, connected to various monitoring devices, his face ashen, his breathing weak, a stark contrast to the once powerful business tycoon. In addition to medical staff, two uniformed personnel were also present in the ward.
Seeing Shen Zhiyan enter, a glimmer of light seemed to appear in Shen Huaiming's cloudy eyes. He moved his fingers with difficulty.
Shen Zhiyan walked to the bedside, looking down at him with no expression on his face, only an almost anatomical calmness.
“You…have come…” Shen Huaiming’s voice was hoarse and dry, like a broken bellows.
"Did you arrange the USB drive and the box?" Shen Zhiyan asked directly, without any unnecessary pleasantries.
Shen Huaiming's lips twitched as if he wanted to laugh, but this triggered a violent cough. After catching his breath, he whispered, "It's...and it's not...it's 'they'...cleaning up the traces...I...just took advantage of the situation...to give you what was rightfully mine..."
"Who are they? Is the 'claw mark' related to Li Qingyun?" Shen Zhiyan's questions were like bullets, precise and swift.
Upon hearing the name "Li Qingyun," Shen Huaiming's pupils contracted sharply, and the curve on the emotion monitoring device fluctuated instantly. He stared intently at Shen Zhiyan, his eyes filled with complex emotions—shock, regret, and an indescribable pain.
“Aqing…she…is too smart…and too stubborn…” he said haltingly, “'Heart Domain'…that’s not something capital should touch…it’s playing God…we…we were all wrong…”
"Did a mistake lead to her 'accident'?" Shen Zhiyan pressed, his tone icy.
Shen Huaiming closed his eyes, his chest heaving violently, as if recalling the events was an extremely painful experience. "More than that… that was just the beginning… 'Observation'… never ceased… 'Nest'… at the very beginning of the 'Heart Domain'…"
After he finished speaking, he seemed to have exhausted all his strength, and the monitor sounded an alarm again. Medical staff immediately rushed forward to treat him.
Shen Zhiyan was asked to leave the ward. Standing in the cold light of the corridor, he pondered his father's last words, which sounded like a prophecy. The nest was located at the beginning of the "Heart Domain." This perfectly matched the clues Jiang Mo had discovered about the "Beichen Research Institute" and the "old place."
All the arrows pointed to that long-abandoned research institute. It was not only the starting point of Li Qingyun's academic ideals, but also possibly the root of all the mysteries and dangers.
He took out his encrypted communicator, preparing to contact Jiang Mo. However, just a second before he could press the call button, a new message popped up first. The sender was none other than the timed message that the already unconscious Shen Huaiming had preset an hour earlier:
"Don't trust anyone, including your mother. The 'Observers' are everywhere. In the 'archives' underground of Beichen, there is Aqing's... last 'vaccine'."
At the end of the message, there were no claw marks, only a simple mathematical symbol: ∞ (infinity).
Shen Zhiyan stared at the message, a chill rising from the depths of his heart. Did his father distrust his mother? Was this message a genuine warning, or yet another trap leading him and Jiang Mo to a specific location? And what did that "vaccine" refer to?
He looked up and saw Lin Jing hurrying towards him at the end of the corridor, accompanied by a doctor. Her face was filled with just the right amount of worry and anxiety.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
