Luo Xi stood inside Qin Xiao's vast, icy office, feeling like a small creature that had strayed into a wolf's den. The glittering skyline of S City stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, but she had no time to admire it. His gaze pressed on her like a tangible weight, leaving her nowhere to hide.
"Everything?" His voice was low, even, carrying an edge of scrutiny that could not be mistaken.
Luo Xi drew in a slow breath, her fingernails biting into her palm. "Tiansheng and Yaoyan are rivals. Some of Yaoyan's research may have crossed the line. Those… may be the very weaknesses Tiansheng needs." She chose her words carefully.
Silence stretched. Qin Xiao leaned back in his leather chair, shadows gathering around him. The faint hum of the central air conditioner filled the space between them.
"I could enter Yaoyan at a junior level," she pressed on, her voice steadier than she had expected. "Gather information—"
"Become a corporate spy?" His interruption cut through her resolve. The curve of his lips carried no warmth, only a razor-sharp mockery. "Too naïve. And with such an ordinary background, why would they ever hire you?"
Heat flared across Luo Xi's cheeks. He was right. The thought stung all the more because she had already considered it herself.
Then Qin Xiao rose to his feet. He was tall, and the motion carried with it a wave of invisible force that made her instinctively hold her breath.
"Still," he murmured as he walked toward her, each step measured, deliberate, "ordinary can be an advantage." He stopped at just the right distance—not too close, not too far.
"Tiansheng owns a small biotech firm, Qiming Biotech. I need someone inside to monitor financials and project timelines. Your profile fits." His words were businesslike, but his gaze lingered on her face for a heartbeat too long.
This wasn't what Luo Xi wanted. Her goal was Yaoyan, and Aunt Lin.
"Accept, or leave," Qin Xiao said calmly. "There is no other choice."
Hesitation gripped her. Refusal meant losing her only chance. Yet when he spoke, his left little finger twitched unconsciously—the same habit the boy once had when fixing her bicycle chain in their childhood. Her chest tightened. In the end, she drew a deep breath and nodded.
He gave the slightest nod in return. "My assistant will handle the paperwork." Then, as though she had ceased to exist, he sat down again, opening a file.
—
The formalities were completed swiftly. Luo Xi left with an employment notice: she was to report Monday morning to Qiming Biotech as a project assistant.
Now, standing before Qiming's aging office building, she tightened her grip on the document. The paper seemed to retain the cold trace of Qin Xiao's touch. She knew perfectly well she wasn't here for Tiansheng's "monitoring task." She was here for Aunt Lin. Qin Xiao was using her, yes. But she could use him too.
Qiming's daily rhythm was dull. Her supervisor, Manager Wang, always looked tired and suspicious, assigning her nothing more than petty chores: filing, recording expenses, arranging paperwork. Luo Xi played the part of a harmless novice—polite, slightly clumsy—but her eyes missed nothing. She caught snatches of conversation in the hallways, noted stray terms murmured by researchers, quietly piecing them together.
During lunch breaks, she helped administrative staff move files, deliberately passing the heavy metal door at the far end of the corridor. The security there was far beyond normal: swipe card, iris scan, and even a small vein-recognition port. No ordinary lab required such defenses.
Days later, while delivering coffee to the break room, she overheard two researchers arguing in hushed tones:
"…The seventh batch of hippocampal regeneration samples collapsed again—worse than the sixth."
"The parameters are too strict! Yaoyan's original data was already flawed. That kind of induced neurogenesis is unstable."
"Shut up! Do you want to be sent to the Archival Department?"
The words Archival Department sent a chill racing down her spine. Aunt Lin had once mentioned—vaguely, fearfully—that there was a mysterious "archival process" within the company, before she disappeared.
From then on, Luo Xi paid even closer attention to financial documents tied to neuroscience and gene editing. One pattern soon emerged: Qiming had been purchasing vast quantities of a synthetic nucleotide sequence labeled Syn-NSeq-7 and importing advanced microscopes designed for live neural tissue imaging. Such equipment far exceeded the scope of "support projects."
On Friday evening, she deliberately spilled water on a pile of scrap papers. While pretending to clean, her fingers quickly rifled through. Her breath caught when she uncovered a half-burned log page:
"Subject Gamma-7: Post-Treatment Cognitive Degradation."
The scrawled signature at the bottom: Dr. Aris.
Aris. Luo Xi's memory sparked—she had seen that name in early reports on Yaoyan Tech. A brilliant neuroscientist who had vanished without explanation.
That night, she returned to the office under the excuse of forgetting something. In the dim glow of the empty halls, she pulled out the phone Qin Xiao had issued her. Her hands moved swiftly, snapping photos of researcher ID badges, fragments of formulas scrawled on whiteboards.
Just as she tucked the phone away, the screen lit up. A message appeared from an unknown sender:
Curiosity brings answers. It also brings danger. Aris doesn't like people touching his failures. —B
Luo Xi froze. Her eyes darted around the empty office. Only the buzzing of fluorescent lights. Her pulse hammered. Who was this? Was Qin Xiao watching her—or someone else entirely?
She forced her fingers to steady and typed a reply: Failures? The Gamma series?
Almost instantly, a response came:
So you've found a fragment. But the full puzzle is far from complete. Do you want to know why Lin Mingjun disappeared? She tried to stop Gamma from entering pre-clinical trials.
Aunt Lin's name burned across the screen. Luo Xi's hand trembled, her skin cold.
Who are you? Are you working for Qin Xiao? she typed.
A pause. Then:
Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is this: After Yaoyan expelled Aris, he took his flawed research—and a group of fanatics—to Qiming. Tiansheng funds them in secret. They don't care about stability. Only breakthroughs, speed. Lin Mingjun discovered the subjects were suffering irreversible brain tissue dissolution. That's why she was… erased.
The phrase brain tissue dissolution made Luo Xi's stomach twist.
She asked, Does Qin Xiao know?
He knows the risks. He chooses to ignore them. To him, this is both a weapon against Yaoyan and a potential fortune. The test subjects' lives? Not a priority. And you—you're just a pawn on his board.
Luo Xi stood frozen in the deserted office, the glow of the phone flickering across her face.
Why tell me this?
The final message came:
Because I want the truth too. Because… I once respected Dr. Lin Mingjun. Remember this—Qiming's underground is darker than you think.
The chat ended.
Luo Xi stared at the screen for a long time, then deleted every trace of the conversation. Her chest was tight with fear, but beneath it, something else was forming—clear, sharp determination.
Qin Xiao might be using her. But she could turn the board, use Tiansheng, use Qiming, and pit them against each other.
She opened the folder she carried, her fingers brushing over Aunt Lin's photo. Under the harsh office light, her eyes shifted—from grief, to resolve.
The Gamma project. Failed subjects. The shadows beneath Qiming's labs.
She would find the truth.