In the crimson glow of the alarm lights, Lin Qiao lay strapped to the operating table. Li Chenzhou's white lab coat was smeared with blood as he adjusted the memory extraction device.
"The perfect vessel," he murmured, tracing Lin Qiao's face. "Reboot Yunzheng's memories with your brain, and he'll remain my obedient son forever."
The door burst open. Li Yunzheng stood framed in the doorway, glass shards protruding from his chest. He raised a detonator. "Father, remember what you taught me? True negotiation requires leverage."
The surveillance screens flickered to life—every load-bearing column of the Bay Project rigged with explosives.
"Choose," he spat blood. "Your life's research... or the billion-dollar development?"
As Lin Qiao seized the moment to break free, grabbing a scalpel to slash at Li Chenzhou's throat, arterial blood sprayed across the Christmas decorations. That's when she noticed—the "wound" on Li Yunzheng's chest was just paint. This whole confrontation had been their carefully staged trap.
Inside the basement safe lay the irrefutable evidence:
1. **Lin Qiao's birth certificate** (Li Chenzhou's fingerprints chemically revealed in the mother's signature field)
2. **Twin experiment footage** (two infants branded with Ⅰ and Ⅱ on their wrists)
3. **Mother's final letter** ("Qiaoqiao, your brother was stolen from us")