“What?”
Xu Yinsheng instinctively raised her voice.
“It’s not depression?”
The man in the white coat gave her a startled glance.
Realizing she had overreacted, Xu Yinsheng immediately lowered her head.
Her long hair spilled over her shoulders, covering half her face, making it impossible to read her expression.
Only her tone and pitch revealed a deeply heartbroken patient.
“Doctor, I really do have depression, boohoo, I’m so depressed, life feels meaningless.”
“I’m so miserable, boohoo, I don’t want to live anymore, sniff sniff~”
“Don’t use lies to comfort me~ boohoo sniff sniff~”
The corner of the white-coated man’s mouth twitched.
“Ms. Mu, I know all about your situation,” a sigh-like whisper echoed in Xu Yinsheng’s ear.
“Being locked in an iron cage must be very uncomfortable, right? The cat food tastes coarse, especially when you’re chained up with a collar—this kind of lack of freedom… no, this feeling of helplessness must be awful.”
Xu Yinsheng stopped sobbing. Suddenly, she lifted her head, her eyes bloodshot as she stared at the white-coated man sitting upright in his chair.
“How do you know? Who told you?!”
“Your husband,” he said calmly, his expression unruffled.
In stark contrast, Xu Yinsheng’s expression was extraordinary—a mix of shock, panic, disbelief, and a complex emotion impossible to decipher, like a spilled paint bucket.
Damn! How could Zhao Yicheng spill everything—imprisonment, chains, the little black room—was that even something to say out loud?!
Doesn’t he have any shame?
Isn’t he afraid she’d report him?
Wait, Xu Yinsheng glanced at the man in white and almost forgot—they were in cahoots.
Same filthy bunch!!
Seeing Xu Yinsheng’s mood swing unpredictably, the man in white put down the case file and tried to soothe her: “I know having your dirty secrets exposed feels mortifying, but rest assured, as a doctor with medical ethics, I would never intentionally reveal a patient’s personal privacy.”
He paused, eyes burning as he stared directly at Xu Yinsheng.
“I just want to say, kinks need to be kept moderate; otherwise, they can be harmful. A few years ago, I treated a couple who enjoyed [ ? cosplay ], but things got out of hand. The man ended up—” He made a swift throat-slitting gesture, clean and precise.
For a moment, silence spoke volumes.
So, Xu Yinsheng.
It turned out he understood the “imprisonment, chains, little black room” as just a kink between two people.
I’ll be sure to send a big red envelope to your school’s Chinese teacher.
“Well, maybe I don’t have depression, but what exactly is masochism syndrome?”
Xu Yinsheng asked the man in front of her with helplessness.
The man in white adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose: “Academically speaking, masochism syndrome is when a person actively seeks physical and psychological pain and torment from a sexual partner to elicit sexual arousal. Patients often become sexually excited during acts of abuse and engage in.”
“Simply put, it’s a mild tendency toward masochism.”
He paused and looked at Xu Yinsheng, gently comforting her: “Actually, Ms. Mu, you don’t need to worry. Everyone harbors some degree of masochism inside, just like eating spicy food—everyone’s tolerance differs.”
“I once treated a couple who loved ‘Four Loves.’ They sought psychological therapy, but before that—” The man in white deliberately lightened the mood.
“I recommended they first see a proctologist,” he joked with a smile.
Xu Yinsheng didn’t laugh.
Instead, her mind churned.
The fact that he took “imprisonment, chains, little black room” as a kink interaction between her and Zhao Yicheng meant he had diagnosed her with masochism syndrome.
She stared sharply at the man in white, her gaze like a knife meant to pierce through his thoughts.
The man averted his eyes, nervously looking out the window to avoid her gaze.
Xu Yinsheng withdrew her look.
Confirmed by the eyes—he was an incompetent doctor!
That explained it all.
No wonder Zhao Yicheng’s mental illness kept relapsing.
If the illness got cured, where’s the money to be made?
You treat someone like a good doctor, and they treat you like a cash cow.
With that thought, Xu Yinsheng didn’t bother arguing anymore.
No point; this quack was just after her money. She gave him a disdainful glance.
“Yes, yes, I have that what’s-it-called syndrome.”
“Then hurry up and write my prescription so I can go claim reimbursement from the person outside.”
The man in white cleared his throat lightly: “This kind of psychological disorder doesn’t require medication. You just need to keep things in balance so it doesn’t affect your daily life.”
Xu Yinsheng frowned slightly.
“Is it more serious than depression?”
“No.”
“Doesn’t affect daily life?”
“Just keep it in balance.”
“So basically, I’m still fine?”
“Yes. This kind of psychological disorder can be understood as an adult kink. It has effects but isn’t serious.”
No way!
If this disease isn’t serious, how am I supposed to boss Zhao Yicheng around?
“Doctor, could you please not tell my husband about this illness?”
Xu Yinsheng bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes.
“You know it’s hard to talk about this kind of illness. Besides, as you saw last time, he said in person that I’m just his mistress. After his sister broke up, he came looking for me.”
“I’m afraid if he knows about this illness, he’ll become even more reckless.”
Her voice choked up as she spoke.
The man in white hesitated but, seeing her pitiful expression, felt reluctant to refuse.
In the end, he sighed.
“All right.”
He put the case file into a folder, picked up a pen from the desk, signed the folder, and handed it to Xu Yinsheng.
Xu Yinsheng took the folder trembling, then stood up and bowed deeply.
“Thank you.”
She then hugged the folder and turned to leave, her steps unsteady but silent, only her red eyes showing the turmoil.
Once Xu Yinsheng’s figure disappeared completely, the man in white took a Bluetooth earpiece from his ear.
“Boss, boss, everything’s settled.”
“Mm, the money has already been transferred to your account.”
The man’s voice was always short and to the point.
The man in white laughed joyfully: “Thank you, Boss, thank you, Boss.”
After hanging up, he picked up the lazy Yanqing cat on the desk.
“Yanqing, another million in the account. This money’s too easy to make.”
“As expected, Huang Silang was right—poor people have no money, only rich folks have the juicy profits!”
“Come on, let’s climb Taishan tomorrow.”
He kissed the furry cat in his arms, his eyes soft and tender like a doting father with his daughter.
“But I have to say, this little couple really knows how to play.”
The Yanqing cat shook its head and tapped his cheek with its paw, meowing once.
It turned to look toward the direction Xu Yinsheng had left, its sapphire eyes flickering with a hint of confusion, as if pondering something.
***
Xu Yinsheng hugged the folder and got into the car.
Zhao Yicheng had been waiting for a long time.
She sat in the passenger seat, her eyes red and moist, handing the folder to him.
Zhao Yicheng took it, glanced at it lightly, and returned it to her.
He pulled her head over to rest on his shoulder, gently patting her back with his fingers, softly saying, “Don’t be afraid. I’ve got everything under control.”
Xu Yinsheng buried her head in his arms and mumbled an affirmative.
“I’ll cure you,” his voice was soft but resolute, calming the heart.
The warm, pale light inside the car fell on him, yet his face remained obscured.
Only a shadow swallowed by darkness.