Lian stood near the counter, pouring hot water into two chipped mugs. She watched her brother lean forward, eyes sharp behind his glasses. His focus was absolute.
“Anything?” she asked.
Kai didn’t look up. “Not yet. It’s encrypted with something old. Probably her work.”
“She was good at hiding things.”
He smiled faintly. “Guess I got that from her.”
Lian set a mug beside him and crouched down. “Be careful. We don’t know what’s on it.”
“I know.” He typed a few more commands. “But it’s strange. Whoever designed this wanted it to be found, just not easily.”
The screen filled with symbols, then flickered once before a folder appeared.
Kai clicked it open.
The contents were not files or documents, but a recording. The audio crackled to life, soft at first, then clear.
“This is Mei Zhang,” a woman’s voice said. “If you are hearing this, it means the system has failed. It also means my children are alive.”
Lian froze. The sound of their mother’s voice filled the small room. It was calm and warm, exactly as she remembered.
Kai didn’t breathe. He just stared at the screen.
“I cannot explain everything,” the voice continued. “There are people who will destroy this if they find it. What we built was meant to protect, not control. But others saw potential. They called themselves LSK. If they succeed, no one will ever be free again.”
Lian closed her eyes. She could picture her mother sitting at her desk, recording this in secret.
“I know you are both capable. You must find the others. They will help you finish what we started.”
The recording ended there, cutting off mid-breath.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
Lian finally opened her eyes. “She knew. All this time.”
Kai sat back and exhaled. “There are more files, but they’re locked. The rest might be video or data logs.”
“Try to open them.”
He nodded and got back to work. His fingers moved quickly across the keyboard. The code scrolled by, green against black. It was beautiful in a way, like watching someone play an instrument.
Lian walked to the window. The city outside was waking up. Vendors were setting up stalls on the street below, and the smell of fried dough drifted up from the corner. It felt strange that the world could keep moving while theirs shifted again.
“Do you ever think,” Kai said after a moment, “that she wanted us to find this not for revenge but for understanding?”
Lian turned back. “Understanding doesn’t change what they did.”
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He met her eyes. “Maybe not. But it changes us.”
She didn’t answer. She walked back over and looked at the screen. The progress bar crawled forward slowly. When it hit one hundred percent, another folder appeared.
This time, it held a list.
“Who are they?” Kai asked.
Lian leaned closer. “Researchers. Some from the same university. Some from government labs.”
Kai pointed at one. “Look at this. Doctor Ren Kwan. He worked in bioinformatics. He died three years ago in an accident.”
“An accident,” Lian repeated quietly. “Convenient.”
They scrolled through the rest. Some names were marked with symbols, others with numbers. At the bottom of the list was one that made them both stop.
Dr. Qian Yuheng: Active.
“That’s the man from the letters,” Kai said.
Lian nodded. “He was her partner.”
“He’s alive.”
She looked at him, thinking. “If anyone knows what really happened, it’s him.”
Kai reached for another folder. “Wait, there’s one more file attached to his name.”
It was a short text document. Lian took a slow breath. “Get ready. We’re going there.”
Kai blinked. “Now?”
“Before someone else does.”
He started disconnecting the setup. “We don’t know what’s waiting for us.”
“That’s never stopped us before.”
The coordinates led them to an old residential block near the harbor. Lian led the way up the narrow stairwell. The air smelled of cooking oil and rain-soaked clothes. They reached the fifth floor. Apartment 5B. The number on the door was missing, only a mark where it had once been.
Kai pressed his ear to the wood. “No sound.”
Lian nodded. “Pick it.”
He took out his kit and went to work. The lock clicked open after a few seconds.
Inside, the apartment was dark. Curtains drawn, dust thick on every surface. A single desk sat by the window with a stack of papers and a turned-off lamp.
Lian stepped forward carefully. “Dr. Qian?” she called out.
No answer.
Kai moved to the back room. “Empty.”
Lian scanned the desk. There were notebooks, diagrams, and a faded ID badge with a photo of a man in his fifties. Same face as the photo from the lab.
“He was here recently,” Kai said, pointing at the cup beside the desk. “Still wet.”
Lian’s hand hovered over the papers. “He’s running.”
She picked up one of the notebooks and flipped through it. There were formulas and rough sketches of a circuit board. At the bottom of one page, a line written hastily: They will come for me next.
A sound came from the hallway.
Kai froze. “Someone’s here.”
Lian turned off the lamp and drew her knife. The light from the window fell across the floor in a pale stripe. Footsteps echoed softly outside.
Kai pulled his gun, steady and quiet.
The door handle moved once. Then again.
Lian’s breath slowed. She waited.
The door opened.
A man stepped inside, holding a small grocery bag. His eyes widened when he saw them.
“Dr. Qian,” Lian said.
He froze, bag dropping to the floor. “Who are you?”
“We’re Mei Zhang’s children.”
For a moment he just stared, stunned. Then he whispered, “You shouldn’t have come here.”
Lian didn’t move. “We need to talk.”
His expression changed, fear flickering behind his glasses. “It’s not safe.”
Kai took a small step forward. “You knew her work. You know what LSK did.”
Qian shook his head quickly. “Not here. They are listening.”
Lian lowered her knife slightly. “Then where?”
He looked toward the window. “I’ll take you somewhere quiet. But you must promise to leave after that. I’ve already risked enough.”
Lian nodded. “Lead the way.”
As they stepped back into the stairwell, Kai looked at his sister. She met his eyes briefly, calm and unreadable.
Whatever answers waited ahead, they were now in motion again, following another trail left behind by the people who had once called themselves family.
