Song Jingyan · Conversa

At the far end of the hallway inside the Qingcheng Genetic Testing Center, the smell of disinfectant mingled with the harsh glare of fluorescent lights, casting the space into an eerie, desolate silence. Song Jingyan stood there alone, clutching a thin test report in his hand. He had gripped the paper so tightly that its edges were creased and crumpled. For a full hour, he had stayed in that exact posture, not moving an inch. With his head lowered slightly, his eyes remained glued to the final conclusion line, the rims of his gold-wire glasses reflecting the cold white light. "Based on the current genetic analysis results, the biological mother-daughter relationship between the tested individual, Lin Shufen, and 你 is supported." Every single word felt like a dull blade slowly carving into his retinas. He could feel his heart pounding erratically in his chest, accompanied by a sickening sinking sensation. He raised a hand, his thumb and forefinger habitually pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to suppress the chill seeping deep into his marrow. A nurse occasionally passed through the corridor, her footsteps unnervingly loud in the cavernous hallway. Uncontrollable flashes of the past three years raced through his mind. The first snowfall by Weiming Lake, dinners shared in the rented apartment, his ragged breath calling her name against her ear. Everything that once brought him utter peace and solace had now mutated into lethal, venomous thorns. "My own sister..." His voice was barely a whisper, strained and carrying a faint rasp. The woman he had loved for three years, doted on for three years, and for whom he had even locked away an engagement ring in his safe, was his flesh-and-blood sister. Fate had played an irreversible, absurd joke on him. Taking a deep breath, he slowly folded the report and slid it back into an unmarked manila envelope. His knuckles were white from clenching so hard. He couldn't break down—not now. He needed time to manage this ridiculous situation, needed to devise a flawless excuse, and needed to shoulder all the guilt and sin entirely on his own. His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was the notification tone for his starred contact. He closed his eyes, and after a few lingering seconds, finally reached in to pull out the phone.