Chapter 167.1: Seeing a Doctor
Afraid of being left alone in this unfamiliar place, Shen Xiu instinctively stood up.
The moment he stood, Shen Xiu subconsciously simulated the route he was about to take in his mind.
From his current location in Area A to where Director Xuan was in Area C, based on his own walking speed, he estimated conservatively that he would pass by 73 surveillance cameras, be monitored by two small helicopters and thirteen drones patrolling the air at this hour, and would also have to walk past a total of 60 heavily armed personnel rotating on patrol.
All of this was a conclusion Shen Xiu had reached over this period of being confined in the house, by observing through the four windows.
Shen Xiu: “……”
That was reckless. Without Fang Mo leading the way, he really shouldn’t be wandering around such a dangerous place. His life was more important!
Shen Xiu decisively turned to look at Fang Mo.
Fang Mo saw Shen Xiu stand and then look his way. In an instant, he understood Shen Xiu’s intention: “Mr. Shen, please wait a moment. I’ll bring Mr. Xuan up.”
Shen Xiu: “…Alright.”
According to Fang Mo, Director Xuan was currently just downstairs in the villa. He was right downstairs, yet they wouldn’t let him come up, nor allow Shen Xiu to go down? How many layers of buffs had the system stacked on him? If he died, would it affect the system that much?
Thinking of this, Shen Xiu felt even more convinced that he needed to leave this unsafe place as soon as possible.
Fang Mo brought Xuan Yushu upstairs. With Xuan Yushu staying with Shen Xiu, Fang Mo didn’t choose to leave either, and instead naturally stood to the side.
Shen Xiu: Fang Mo is so responsible in protecting him according to the system’s requirements!
Fang Mo leaving was out of the question. Shen Xiu, thinking that what he was about to say wasn’t something that needed to be kept from others, didn’t mind speaking in front of him.
Knowing that Director Xuan was planning to leave, Shen Xiu got straight to the point:
“Director Xuan, when are you leaving? Let’s go together.”
Xuan Yushu was surprised and looked at Shen Xiu. “You’re going back too?”
“Mhm!” Shen Xiu replied immediately, looking eagerly at Xuan Yushu.
Meeting Shen Xiu’s determined gaze, Xuan Yushu figured Shen Xiu must be done with his business and nodded. “Alright, we’ll go together.”
Fang Mo immediately understood the reason Shen Xiu had asked for Xuan Yushu to be brought up—he was saying he wanted to leave together, right in front of him. Enlightened, Fang Mo quickly spoke up: “For safety, I’ll arrange a plane to take everyone out.”
This was his mistake—he hadn’t considered arranging a plane for the Storm team’s departure.
He had underestimated how important these people were to Shen Xiu. Shen Xiu didn’t say it outright, but this was probably a warning—a reminder to be more tactful and observant.
Upon hearing that, Director Xuan relaxed and smiled. “Then I’ll trouble you.”
There was still quite a distance from here to the airport. To play it safe, flying directly from here was indeed much more secure—no need to spend the drive worrying about unexpected danger.
In Director Xuan’s view, in Basat, flying through the air was definitely safer than drawing attention by driving on the roads.
Fang Mo said, “It’s no trouble at all—this is my responsibility. I’ll have someone apply for the flight route.”
The flight clearance was quickly obtained, and once the departure time was confirmed, Xuan Yushu temporarily parted from Shen Xiu to return to his place and pack up.
Only after Xuan Yushu left did Fang Mo follow as well. Recalling what Fang Heng had told him—that Shen Xiu disliked others touching his belongings—he didn’t dare offer to help Shen Xiu pack.
As the door closed, the tight string in Shen Xiu’s heart finally loosened. He immediately pulled out his suitcase and packed up everything he had brought with him at the fastest speed.
—
Five hours later, on the plane.
Once Fang Mo’s people were out of sight, Jiang Yanxi grabbed his phone and called out to Ning Sinian, “Nian Nian, come on! Let’s take a photo! We’ve got to commemorate this moment properly—we’ll need this when we’re bragging next time!”
“Coming, coming!”
While taking the photo, Ning Sinian whispered to Jiang Yanxi in amazement, “I really didn’t expect a private jet to look like this! Now I finally get why people say flying for over ten hours can be enjoyable and not tiring at all—they must all be flying on jets like this.”
Expensive wines, beautifully plated gourmet meals, entertainment facilities both familiar and novel, and a spacious, comfortable environment—it could easily accommodate everyone from Storm without feeling the least bit crowded.
Song Chengwang had been pulled away by Xia Wenhao to take pictures, while Zhuang Yi and Mu Zhenchu were huddled together, seemingly studying something on the camera.
Xiang Yueting held a glass of red wine in one hand, stretching his other arm to try and take a selfie. But when he realized he couldn’t reach the shutter button, he looked around and noticed—he was the only one left out…
Wait—no, there was still Captain Xiu!
He turned to Shen Xiu, who had been calmly seated since boarding, clearly used to private jets. Shen Xiu sat there quietly, not daring to move or touch anything, still trying to figure out how to naturally join the group activities.
Xiang Yueting blinked and softly asked, “Captain Xiu, could you take a photo for me? I can’t reach the button with one hand.”
Sitting stiffly on the sofa, unsure how to insert himself into the group’s fun without seeming awkward, Shen Xiu replied instantly, without a second of hesitation, “Sure.”
As expected of Xiang Yueting—he gave him the perfect chance to blend into the group seamlessly!
The Storm crew: “……”
In this world, probably only members of The Galaxy would dare ask Shen Xiu to take a photo for them.
What was that saying?
Spoiled by affection, emboldened by love?
With The Galaxy setting the tone, the initially stiff and reserved Storm crew members gradually began to loosen up as well. Since they were already on board, and even Shen Xiu—the owner of the plane—didn’t mind playing along with The Galaxy, they figured: why not just enjoy it too? One by one, they began to let loose and have fun, snapping photos and enjoying the ride.
—
When the plane landed, everyone said their goodbyes and headed home.
Once back, Shen Xiu opened the group chat, followed the others’ lead, and sent a message to report he’d arrived safely. Then he washed up, changed into his loungewear, and played with Lucky for a while. It wasn’t until Lucky got tired of him and lost interest that Shen Xiu finally returned to the master bedroom to deal with jet lag.
—
The next day.
At 7:00 a.m., Shen Xiu opened his eyes, stared at the familiar ceiling, got up skillfully, and changed into workout clothes for a run.
At 8:00 a.m., he was sitting on the sofa, a laptop he hadn’t touched in days in front of him.
Though he really didn’t want to bring it up, since he had already promised the system, Shen Xiu sat there for five full minutes, conflicted, before finally bracing himself and speaking up:
“System, it’s time to see the doctor. Which hospital do you want me to go to?”
As he asked this, Shen Xiu’s brows furrowed instinctively.
But after waiting quietly for five seconds—just like the past two days—he got no response from the system.
Shen Xiu: “……”
The system was still offline!
…Did that mean he could freely choose which doctor to see?
Strictly speaking, although psychologists and hospital physicians weren’t exactly the same, they were all “doctors.” Round it up, and yes—he technically would be seeing a doctor.
Is there a problem with this?
None at all!
When the system eventually came back online and asked whether he had seen a doctor, all Shen Xiu had to do was say, “I did,” and the matter would be considered resolved.
Having thought it through, and fearful of being dragged into a hospital for brain scans and CTs, Shen Xiu took advantage of the system’s continued absence, pulled out his phone, and decisively booked an appointment at the nearest psychological clinic.
After making the appointment and still receiving no response from the system, the heavy weight that had been pressing on his chest since returning home lifted slightly.
Shen Xiu’s therapy session was scheduled for 2:30 p.m.
At 2:28, wearing a mask and a baseball cap, Shen Xiu got off the bus. With the GPS voice still speaking in his earphones, he walked forward.
“You have arrived at your destination.”
Hearing that in his ear, Shen Xiu removed one earbud and looked up at the clinic sign, which was partially blocked by a large tree from the nearby greenery.
He confirmed the clinic’s name—it was indeed the one he had booked. Shen Xiu casually walked forward and, at exactly 2:30, pushed open the door.
“Shen—cough cough…”
Realizing she had almost blurted out his name, Qiu Yan quickly corrected herself, “Hello, sir. May I ask… do you have an appointment?”
Faced with a stranger, Shen Xiu was still a bit stiff, nodding slightly, “Yes. I booked the 2:30 slot.”
“You’re… you’re the one who made the appointment?!” Qiu Yan’s voice was laced with clear disbelief.
Qiu Yan wasn’t short on money, and she was indeed a licensed therapist—but this small clinic was something she opened mostly for fun. There were no staff, she wasn’t relying on it for income, and getting three clients a week was already considered a good turnout.
That morning, Qiu Yan had indeed received a consultation request from an account made up of a string of random numbers and letters—clearly a default username that hadn’t been updated after registration. The message simply said the person wanted to book a session at 2:30 p.m. and signed off with the surname “Shen.” No other information was provided.
With a brand-new account and such a vague message, Qiu Yan assumed it was just another no-show. For her small, unknown clinic, that was pretty common.
What she didn’t expect was that not only did the 2:30 client actually show up—but the person who arrived quite literally made her jaw drop.
She never could’ve imagined… it would be Shen Xiu!
Shen Xiu coming to her tiny little consultation room—honestly, even if she told someone about it, who would ever believe her?
And now, Shen Xiu was standing right in front of her. Even though he wore a mask and a baseball cap in disguise, his unique aura was unmistakable—there was no way she could be wrong.
Nervously, Qiu Yan spoke up: “Mr. Shen, hello, I’m Qiu Yan, the therapist here. You can just call me Dr. Qiu. The consultation room is this way—please follow me.”
As she spoke, she flipped the sign on the front door to indicate she was in session, then walked ahead, leading Shen Xiu to the second floor.
“Okay,” Shen Xiu replied.
Watching Dr. Qiu walking in front of him, Shen Xiu let out a subtle sigh of relief. To avoid seeming impolite, he followed at a respectful distance of three steps behind her.
“Please have a seat, Mr. Shen,” Qiu Yan gestured once they entered. She poured a glass of water and placed it in front of him before sitting down in her usual consultation chair.
It was mid-afternoon, and sunlight poured through the uncovered windows, casting golden beams across the floor.
They sat across from each other in black leather chairs, separated by a desk. Silence filled the room.
Qiu Yan: “……”
Being in the same space as Shen Xiu—he didn’t need to do anything, just quietly sit there—was already enough to create immense pressure. It was as if the very oxygen in the room was being slowly sucked out, making it hard to breathe.
After sitting down, Shen Xiu, anticipating the upcoming therapy session, felt immense pressure. It was his first time ever doing psychological counseling, and every nerve in his body was on edge. He looked uneasily at Dr. Qiu across from him.
Qiu Yan: “……”
Staring at the man across from her, whose face was mostly hidden by a mask and baseball cap, only a pair of piercingly cold eyes visible—Qiu Yan didn’t know why, but she had the bizarre illusion that she was facing a cold-blooded assassin sent to eliminate her.
Her nerves were pushed to the limit; her mind buzzed with static.
