Han Chen felt no sadness and no fear. When Han Qi fell asleep, he simply leaned close to his ear and whispered, “I’m sorry. To heal my body, my father created you, Han Chen…”
“Han Chen” was his own name—but now he was using it to address the boy lying in bed. “You only have eighteen years to live… because you’re my clone. And as a clone, you’ll receive more of our parents’ attention.”
Then Han Chen quietly walked out of the room—and became Han Qi.
Everyone has weaknesses. The one now known as Han Chen, for instance, longed for his father to spend less time experimenting, for his mother to argue less, and for both to give him the love he craved as a child.
Han Wei wanted to stand at the pinnacle of academia—to become the most authoritative scholar in his field. As for Zhen Wei, her wish was simpler: she only wanted to be a woman cherished in her husband’s hands.
It wasn’t hard to infiltrate their minds once he found their vulnerabilities in moments of weakness. Han Chen—or rather, Han Qi, as he was now—called it “reconstruction,” not “hypnosis.” He was simply reshaping people into the ideal versions of themselves.
That way, everyone could be happy… couldn’t they?
He once told Feng Guang, “No matter how advanced technology becomes—whether humans can easily reach outer space, or medicine can rewrite memories at will, or artificial intelligence can replace human labor—there will always be one flaw that remains: the lifespan of a clone will never be long.”
Every word he said was true.
GhostCloudd On WBICDPH Chapter 93