Chapter 167.2: Seeing a Doctor
Shen Xiu: “?”
Why was Dr. Qiu just staring at him and not saying anything…
“!”
Oh no—he was too nervous and had forgotten to take off his cap and mask! No wonder Dr. Qiu was just staring at him!
“Sorry,” Shen Xiu apologized politely as he naturally removed his mask and cap, setting them aside.
Hearing Shen Xiu’s cool voice and being faced directly with his “Nuwa’s masterpiece” of a face, Qiu Yan finally found her voice again—remembering that she was the therapist here.
Taking a deep breath, Qiu Yan steadied herself, slipped into professional mode, and asked:
“Mr. Shen, what kind of issue would you like to discuss in today’s session?”
Knowing he would be facing questions from a stranger, Shen Xiu had never planned to come unprepared. Long before this session, he had already thought carefully at home about what kind of question he would raise.
So when he heard Qiu Yan ask that familiar phrase, he answered confidently:
“Psychiatric issues.”
Shen Xiu had done his research. He’d long suspected that he might be suffering from persecutory delusions, which, as he had read, fell under psychiatric disorders.
Qiu Yan: “?”
Did she hear that right?!
Wait a second… why would Shen Xiu choose a small clinic like hers?
Despite the shock in her heart, as a professional psychologist, Qiu Yan maintained a calm tone and said, “Understood.”
She skillfully pulled out a notepad and pen, clicked a few times with her mouse, and looked at Shen Xiu.
“Next, I’ll be asking you a few questions. Mr. Shen, please answer them truthfully.”
Shen Xiu nodded seriously. “Okay!”
“Question 1: Mr. Shen, let’s say one day your parents come home with a child and tell you that he is your younger brother. They say he will inherit all of the family’s assets in the future. Then, due to an accident, the two of you end up stranded on a deserted island. What would you choose to do?”
“A. Kill your brother, dump the body in the ocean, erase all evidence, and become the sole heir.”
“B. Wait for rescue together with your brother.”
“C. Other. Please explain.”
…Brother?
He didn’t have one, and his parents would never betray each other like that. The premise didn’t hold.
But that was fine. He had a vivid imagination—he could picture it.
Shen Xiu visualized the scenario Dr. Qiu described, placed himself in that situation, and replied, “C.”
Qiu Yan raised her pen. “Why?”
“As a normal person, according to Article… something of our criminal law… murder would result in imprisonment—so Option A is off the table. Option B is basically waiting to die—not acceptable. Option C: a deserted island implies the ocean provides a rich food source. A deserted island also suggests there’s fresh water, edible plants, wood, and other materials. Survival is possible. A normal person should focus on sustaining life while actively seeking outside help in every way possible.”
Qiu Yan: “……”
“Question 2: If you were kidnapped together with someone you dislike, and after the kidnappers received the ransom they planned to kill you both, but you managed to free yourself with a knife—what would you do next?”
“There are no options for this one. You need to answer freely.”
Shen Xiu thought for two seconds, then asked, “Do the kidnappers have guns? Knives? What kind of knife? How many kidnappers in total?”
Qiu Yan: “?”
That… wasn’t written in the prompt!
Qiu Yan added on the spot: “Two kidnappers. One has a gun, the other has a knife.”
Shen Xiu nodded. “Disarm the one with the gun first—ensure absolute safety and deterrence. Then take the kidnappers’ phone and call the police.”
“And the person you dislike? What would you do with them?”
“Disliking someone emotionally doesn’t give me the right to decide whether they live or die. They have nothing to do with me—I won’t look at them.”
Qiu Yan: “Question 3…”
Shen Xiu: “Under normal circumstances, one should…”
…
Half an hour later, the Q&A session ended. Qiu Yan stared at the notebook in her hand and the data on her computer, frowning slightly.
Judging by his answers alone, there was absolutely nothing wrong with what Shen Xiu said.
What was concerning, however, was that whenever he was given open-ended questions, Shen Xiu subconsciously used phrases like “under normal circumstances” or “a normal person should…”
The subtext?
That in Shen Xiu’s subconscious, there existed an alternative “abnormal person” or “abnormal scenario” response to the exact same situations.
While he had clear potential for dangerous tendencies, Shen Xiu consistently and rationally chose the so-called “normal” answers.
Too perfect.
Which, in itself, was a problem.
It reminded Qiu Yan of a certain phrase:
“A calm and controlled madness.”
If not an explosive outburst from silence,
then a cold and ruthless deviation growing within that silence.
After the Q&A session ended, a full five minutes passed—and Shen Xiu still hadn’t heard Qiu Yan say a word.
It would’ve been fine if she had just stayed quiet,
but she was frowning.
Anyone who’s ever seen a doctor frown in complete silence while staring at a chart knows exactly how devastating that kind of tension can be.
Shen Xiu, already uneasy, became even more anxious.
Feeling unsettled, he mentally reviewed every one of his answers—evaluating each word carefully. After the full replay in his head, he was certain:
There was absolutely nothing wrong.
Not even the slightest flaw could be picked out.
Another five minutes went by, and Shen Xiu finally couldn’t help but speak:
“Dr. Qiu, do you… not have a conclusion yet?”
Then… why was she frowning?
Shen Xiu pondered the question, but no matter how he analyzed it, he couldn’t find an answer. His brows knit together unconsciously.
Hearing Shen Xiu’s cool-toned voice, Qiu Yan looked up. Her face carried a stiff, forced smile. Based on the answers Shen Xiu had given, she began to explain the results of the evaluation.
Dr. Qiu: “You have a remarkably resilient inner world, possess strong logical reasoning, keen discernment, and exceptional execution ability. You are also deeply guided by a sense of justice…”
Three minutes later, she finished speaking.
Throughout the whole explanation, Shen Xiu listened patiently.
And the entire time, Dr. Qiu could feel his emotionless gaze fixed steadily on her. He showed no sign of interrupting, no fluctuation in expression—nothing. Strangely, that stillness gave her an indescribable chill, a faint sense of something cold and unsettling.
Struggling to finish the last of the professionally written report, Dr. Qiu looked up and said,
“That’s all.”
Hearing her final words, Shen Xiu silently replayed everything she had just said, breaking it down and putting it back together in his mind.
After a few rounds of analysis, he came to a clear conclusion:
Dr. Qiu was… praising him.
He wasn’t even the slightest bit embarrassed.
But… Shen Xiu felt that none of that mattered.
What mattered was…
Dr. Qiu hadn’t said whether he actually had a condition or not!
His knuckles clenched into fists on his knees as he stared intently at Dr. Qiu, tense:
“Do I have a psychological disorder?”
Dr. Qiu felt as if she were being stared down by a predator—one accustomed to killing. The chill in Shen Xiu’s gaze was no different from that of a beast sizing up its prey.
She swallowed nervously.
“…You appear to be very normal.”
Too perfect. She didn’t dare definitively conclude whether he had any form of mental illness.
He was so incredibly composed and rational that it sent a chill down her spine. Shen Xiu didn’t feel like a person—he felt like a machine, one programmed to simulate human emotions, mimicking joy, anger, sorrow, and delight based on pre-set parameters.
It reminded her of those cold, rigid lines of code from her university computer science courses.
That was why she had chosen her words so carefully—“appear” to be normal.
Besides, who else but a law major would go as far as memorizing criminal law statutes?
When she heard Shen Xiu recite them earlier, her mind blanked out for a moment.
For one absurd second, she had a total existential crisis:
Who am I? Where am I? What am I even doing?
Did Shen Xiu constantly use the criminal code to remind himself not to break the law?
“Understood,” Shen Xiu replied.
Assuming the session was over, he stood up and said, “Thank you.”
As he rose, Dr. Qiu felt all the words she had wanted to say… suddenly lodged in her throat.
Shen Xiu’s demeanor made it obvious—he didn’t want to continue the session.
Under his overwhelming presence and control of the situation, Qiu Yan held back the doubts swirling in her mind and silently escorted him downstairs.
Honestly, it was a relief to send this terrifying Buddha away.
As far as she was concerned, she’d just pretend none of this ever happened!
After settling the bill, Shen Xiu headed toward the door. Just before stepping out, he paused. From the reflection in the glass, he looked seriously at Dr. Qiu, who was seeing him off, and once again—disbelievingly—asked:
“Dr. Qiu, I am normal, right?”
Under Shen Xiu’s cold, piercing gaze, Qiu Yan forced herself to nod.
“…Yes. You… are normal.”
Dear God…
What kind of “normal” person would keep insisting they’re normal?
Help.
Why did she suddenly feel this bizarre sense of:
‘I believe I’m normal, so I must be normal, and you all better agree I’m normal.’
Shen Xiu: “!”
Whew… That scared him. He really thought he might have persecutory delusions—he was always mentally simulating countless good and bad possibilities whenever something happened.
So it turned out… normal people were like that too.
After this session, Shen Xiu was completely at ease.
When the system asked later, he could confidently say: He wasn’t sick!
Dr. Qiu walked him to the clinic entrance, but curiosity finally got the better of her. Gathering her courage, she carefully asked:
“Mr. Shen, forgive me for asking, but… do you think you’re normal?”
Shen Xiu’s footsteps paused.
Why was Dr. Qiu asking that?
So earlier when she said he was normal,
was she just trying to comfort him?
Did he… actually have some level of persecutory delusion after all?!
After a difficult three-second struggle with himself, Shen Xiu ultimately chose to face the reality that he might be mentally unwell. In a quiet, low voice, he said:
“Not normal.”
Dr. Qiu: “!”
She knew it!
Her instincts had been right all along—Shen Xiu had always known he was different.
Even while fully aware he wasn’t like other people, he had been deliberately using “normal” thought processes to make himself appear normal.
Just like a mentally ill person pretending to be sane.
Just hearing that kind of thing was enough to make your skin crawl.
Of course—when she told him earlier that he was “normal,” he must have seen right through the lie. That’s why, just before leaving, he exposed it himself, telling her there was no need to lie to him.
Choosing her tiny, obscure clinic from the start must have been intentional too—he didn’t want anyone to find out. Big psychological clinics were full of star therapists, with people coming and going nonstop. It’d be easy to bump into acquaintances, maybe even someone from the same industry. Her place, where no one had shown up in three days, was far safer.
Then—
Shen Xiu suddenly turned back around, his sharp gaze locking onto Dr. Qiu.
Staying true to his “if you’re sick, you need medicine” principle, he asked calmly:
“Do I need medication?”
His sudden turn, the sharpness in his stare, and the chilling calm in his tone made Dr. Qiu’s heart pound wildly in her chest.
This… this had to be a threat, right?!
