Ding Shi seized this opportunity and didn’t return the entire afternoon, and was nowhere to be seen at dinner. Guo Weixiang secretly investigated and said that Colonel Jin Hua had taken dinner to the research institute, and Ding Shi followed like a loyal Doberman.
“Colonel Zhou?” An orderly came and saluted crisply: “General Zheng asked me to relay a message, requesting you to visit his office after dinner to discuss important matters.”
Si Nan’s spoon paused momentarily, but Zhou Rong seemed to have anticipated this, smiling and nodding, “Okay.”
After dinner, Zhou Rong told everyone to return to their dormitories, kissed Si Nan’s forehead, looking normal, and walked towards General Zheng’s office.
Si Nan lagged two steps behind, looking at his back.
The light gradually dimmed, the sea wind moaning, Zhou Rong’s camouflage jacket open, the hem gently swaying in the wind.
Tall and long-legged, having undergone the most rigorous posture training, his walking stance was exceptionally upright and attractive; but after staying long in a unit like 118, there was always a somewhat casual and nonchalant air.
Si Nan retracted his gaze and turned to walk north.
At the northernmost part of the island, near the port, was the military’s sixth helicopter pad.
At 8 PM, a car sped from the military guest house direction and stopped at the edge of the helicopter pad. The driver opened the door, and Rommel emerged from the car under the tight guard of several soldiers.
Rommel narrowed his eyes, seeing a figure standing quietly ahead.
—Without even relying on the distant helicopter’s lights, he could recognize who it was with his eyes closed.
“Noah,” Rommel laughed hoarsely.
Si Nan turned back: “Surname Zhou, you’ve called the wrong name.”
“Don’t be so nervous,” Luo Mu’er said casually. “I thought you two had a distant mother-son relationship.”
Sinan softly and deliberately asked, “Where did you take her?”
Luo Mu’er raised an eyebrow without answering. Sinan finally grabbed his collar forcefully: “You…”
“Public cemetery,” Luo Mu’er smiled.
Sinan’s powerful fingers gradually loosened.
Luo Mu’er gazed at his pupils, which appeared especially light in the night’s reflection, shifting from amber to honey-colored, and said, “Thank me. This is the only good thing I’ve done for you since falling in love with you.”
Sinan snorted lightly and mockingly from his nose, then walked backward.
“Hey!” Luo Mu’er suddenly turned back and called out loudly, “Want to know where your father was finally buried?”
At that moment, Sinan crossed the airfield in the night, facing away from everyone, his low voice without any emotional fluctuation in the wind: “I know where he is. I’ve already seen him.”
The helicopter slowly rose, and dust swirled in all directions with the wind. Sinan stopped, and in the black night, a red light flickered. Zhou Rong sat on the fence, smoking, and stretched out both hands with a smile.
Sinan approached and pressed his palm, their four hands touching, and sighed silently.
“I thought you were going to kill him,” Zhou Rong laughed, “and was wondering whether to stop you.”
Sinan said, “If I really wanted to kill him, you couldn’t have stopped me!”
This was true. When Sinan went crazy, he could only be stopped by being shot dead. He thought for a moment and added, “But since Luo Mu’er didn’t get the ultimate antibody, he won’t have it easy when he goes back. Killing him or not doesn’t matter.”
Zhou Rong pulled Sinan’s hands, drawing him between his thighs, and asked closely, “Hmm?”
“White Eagle Base developed an antibody sample applicable to most people before the virus went out of control, but didn’t complete the project and froze the unformed vaccine. Under Luo Mu’er’s persuasion, several powerful families decided to keep the ultimate antibody in their own hands while promoting a secondary antibody only suitable for those with excellent genes.”
“Using this as a means, power and land could be rapidly expanded, even enough to establish an indestructible autocratic kingdom in the post-apocalyptic world.”
“…” Zhou Rong nodded silently: “So you actively contacted Deputy Director Guo, using the completion of vaccine research as a condition to steal the ultimate antibody sample?”
Sinan said, “More or less. But actually… it’s not really stealing. It was originally my thing.”
Zhou Rong almost understood what happened but didn’t interrupt, just quietly watching him.
“Although capable countries were all doing virus experiments, the Pandora virus was indeed finalized in my mother’s hands. She was very regretful about this, and after marrying Luo Mu’er’s father, she kept researching vaccines, but no one knew exactly how far she had progressed.” Sinan inhaled the cold night air like water and said, “She was very advanced in this field. Perhaps my father’s death gave her great motivation and inspiration.”
Zhou Rong listened silently.
Sinan said self-mockingly, “Whether in science or art, the pain of death is always one path to inspiration.”
“And then?” Zhou Rong asked softly.
“After she hanged herself, she left me a letter, but I never opened it. I didn’t even go to her funeral…”
Sinan was silent for a long time. Zhou Rong thought he wouldn’t continue, but moments later, he calmly admitted, “I didn’t dare to go.”
“…Why?”
Sinan probably hadn’t spoken so much in his entire life. After thinking for a long time, as if forcing himself to organize language to describe his hidden, obscure past, he finally spoke: “For several years, I kind of hated her.”
“I hated why she kept tampering with my father’s body, why she researched the Pandora virus, why she used me as a test subject for a series of antibody tests.” He paused briefly, “Later, probably because the vaccine research hit a bottleneck, her mental state gradually became abnormal. She would always imagine my father wasn’t dead, and even return to researching the Pandora virus…”
Sinan closed his eyes, memories of those unbearable times surfacing – the gray and beautiful manor, and the sky overhead that seemed perpetually overcast, subtly revealing a blood-colored vortex.
“I shattered her illusion,” Sinan opened his eyes, continuing in a terrifyingly steady tone. “She couldn’t bear it and committed suicide after leaving a letter.”
Zhou Rong now understood the complex emotions hidden in those four words “I didn’t dare.”
Here is the edited article with the irrelevant content removed:
“When did you open that suicide note?” he asked softly.
“Several years later,” Sinan said, “I don’t remember the exact day. Only after seeing the letter did I know the vaccine research had made critical progress. But when I asked Luo Mu’er, he said the project was frozen…”
“So I thought, since the Pandora virus originally started with my mother, I also have a responsibility to pass on the vaccine.”
He finished speaking and smiled.
It was just a very slight and weary smile, almost imperceptible if not looked at carefully.
But from that smile, Zhou Rong saw the figure who had jumped from 30,000 feet, awakened by being torn apart by zombies at the cliff’s edge, and who had staggered out of the valley, struggling with his last breath to call for help when critically wounded.
Zhou Rong sat holding Sinan’s hand, their palms interlocked. He held Sinan tightly between his strong thighs and asked softly, “When you contacted Director Guo, how could you trust 118 so easily?”
Sinan tilted his head back. The night sky over the island was deep. After a long moment, he smiled and said, “Although you had already forgotten me then, who else could I trust besides you?
Zhou Rong reached out and pressed down on Si Nan’s nape, gently turning his face towards himself, and planted a long, lingering kiss on his cool, soft lips.
