It was again time for the weekly mental therapy session.
In a purely white room, this week’s psychological treatment was nearing its end.
The man in white looked at the energetic man seated in the chair, then at the nearly perfect psychological questionnaire in his hand.
He rested his pen tip against his chin, falling silent.
He carefully chose his words, seemingly searching for how to begin, but just as he was about to speak, he was interrupted by the other party.
Zhao Yicheng stood up from the chair, his posture erect.
He looked at the doctor, his dark eyes swirling.
“Doctor, I think I’m cured. You can write me a certificate.”
“This…”
The man in white paused, placing the questionnaire into the medical record.
He adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose.
“Mr. Zhao, I think you still need a few more follow-up visits. Generally speaking, mental illnesses can always relapse…”
After this week’s session concluded, Zhao Yicheng left with several bags of special cat food.
The man in white casually found a seat and opened Zhao Yicheng’s medical record.
Wait.
Name: Zhao Yicheng Gender:
Male Age: 27
Marital Status: Single
Current Medical History: Mental illness sufferer, result of prolonged living, suspected of having violent tendencies, suspected of having Neurological Schizophrenia, suspected of suffering from mania.
The inky pen tip flowed across the clean white paper, and a line of neat text reflected in his gold-rimmed glasses:
The patient’s condition has worsened, suspected to be due to significant stimulation.
Currently, there are signs of resistance to treatment.
He paused, adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose, and meticulously wrote a small line in Zhao Yicheng’s medical record.
Recommendation: Hospitalization for observation.
He closed the medical record.
Surely, no one would think a psychologist’s diagnosis relies solely on a psychological questionnaire.
Would they?
No way, right?
Diagnostic methods, similar to Traditional Chinese Medicine’s ‘look, listen, ask, feel,’ are often derived from observing expressions, discerning tone, and pondering words and actions during communication with the patient to understand their recent condition.
However, given the current situation…
The man in white frowned slightly.
His only recommendation was inpatient treatment.
He had treated many cases of mental illness; he wasn’t just proficient, but masterful, able to skillfully grasp the patient’s psychology in just a few minutes.
But Zhao Yicheng’s condition, with its coexistence of madness and rationality, and the dance between restraint and release, was something he had never encountered before.
If before his impression of Zhao Yicheng was a dormant volcano, unsure when it would erupt, now he was a lake of lava constantly erupting!
Drip, drip, drip.
Just then, a phone call interrupted the man in white’s thoughts on the subsequent treatment plan.
He put down the medical record and answered the call.
“Yes, this is he.”
He nodded.
The caller was none other than his friend, Liu Junjie, who conducted biological pharmaceutical research.
Ever since Zhao Yicheng’s investment, Liu Junjie had not only acquired a large amount of experimental equipment but also renovated his laboratory, living a comfortable life.
“What? Someone wants to join us to research human feed?”
“Wait, what is human feed?”
“Food produced by humans using corresponding animals or microorganisms, processed through physical and chemical treatments, based on the growth needs of animals or microorganisms?”
“What the hell? Don’t use technical jargon. I studied new energy; I don’t understand that.”
“Oh. It’s like nutrient solutions in apocalyptic novels. The high-end version is called molecular cuisine.”
“If they want to join, then let them join. Anyway, it’s just the two of us right now.”
After some polite chatter, the man in white hung up the phone.
He looked at the phone in his hand and fell into thought, reminiscing.
Initially, after Zhao Yicheng’s first investment of 200,000 arrived, Liu Junjie began researching an antidote for a Gu Poison, a type of malicious magic/curse.
Just as he made some progress, Zhao Yicheng called to change his request.
Based on the principle of “money talks.”
The man in white and Liu Junjie agreed.
The requirements were: to include necessary vitamins for the human body, to provide human protein and fat, to add the antidote for the Gu poison, and at the same time, ensure that the consumer would not perceive any adverse reactions or bodily changes.
The last one: it had to have the exact look and texture of commercially available cat food.
Each requirement was more outrageous than the last, truly a demanding client.
But with a fifty-thousand check from the other party, the two risked sudden death, toiling in the laboratory for three days and three nights, finally producing the finished product.
It sounded complex, but in reality, it was just making chocolate from chocolate, and mixing ground vitamins, proteins, and fats with some raw fish meat to form cat food kibbles.
The only real trouble was the ratio of the Gu poison antidote to the poison itself, ensuring that the consumer was subtly detoxified without producing any negative reactions.
For a very long time.
The man in white snapped out of his reverie.
As if remembering something, he dialed a hidden phone number.
“Mr. Zhao, your son’s condition…”
***
These past few days, Xu Yinsheng had been doing quite well, relatively speaking.
During the day, she was kept in a cage for a few hours, teased Garfield, and sweetly called out “Master” a few times at mealtime to get triple the cat food and fill her stomach.
At night, she crawled into Zhao Yicheng’s bed. Don’t misunderstand, Xu Yinsheng wasn’t offering herself; she simply craved the soft, fluffy large bed.
Zhao Yicheng, acting as a “gentleman in bed,” didn’t do anything out of line with her in bed.
He merely craved her body—uh, literally. He treated her like a body pillow.
The vampire loli’s body, less than 1.4 meters tall, was like a small inflatable… doll in Zhao Yicheng’s arms: fragrant, soft, and utterly adorable.
So, every morning for Xu Yinsheng was like the beginning of an adult anime episode.
Sometimes her lips would be dry, as if someone had sucked on them all night; sometimes her clothes would be stripped off, leaving her fair and tender in the man’s arms like a little dumpling; sometimes there would be some incredibly indescribable zero-distance rubbing with “Little Zhao.”
***
Noon.
Zhao family villa, living room.
Looking at the sparkling clean cat bowl, Xu Yinsheng crawled on all fours on the floor, poking her stomach, which was only five-thirds full. She was hungry, feeling no satiety whatsoever.
She glanced at Garfield beside her.
Garfield, as if his tail had been stepped on, immediately bristled with fur and became alert, hunkering down over his cat bowl, guarding it fiercely against Xu Yinsheng.
To this, Xu Yinsheng grumbled, “It’s not like I haven’t snatched your cat food a few times; do you really need to guard it that much?”
A few times before, when Xu Yinsheng wasn’t full, she had set her sights on Garfield’s cat food.
Adhering to the principle that cats have no human rights, she had secretly snuck a mouthful.
Then, last time, her attempt failed, and Zhao Yicheng caught her red-handed.
As punishment, for the next meal, Zhao Yicheng took half of her cat food and gave it to Garfield in front of her.
“Meow meow meow!”
Garfield loudly meowed at her a few times, his cat eyes full of intelligence, as if saying, “Get lost! This is my lunch!”
Suddenly, the aroma of meat drifted into Xu Yinsheng’s delicate nose.
The smell came from where Zhao Yicheng was eating.
She unconsciously sniffed, looking in that direction, and her stomach rumbled in response.
Braised pork ribs, an extra spoonful of sugar, a sweeter taste.
Xu Yinsheng murmured to herself.
Suddenly, looking at the dining table, her eyes darted around, a glint of cunning flashing in them, as if she had come up with an idea.
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