Chapter 1: Psychologist

“I’ve had enough of this. Please go find someone else.”

With a sharp “bang,” I was once again shut out.

I slowly withdrew my hand, tucking away some tools into my bag, seeking a bit of warmth against the biting winter wind.

Early winter had set in for some time now.

It wasn’t the coldest period of the year yet, but it was almost at its peak.

The coastal wind whipped sharply against my increasingly thin frame, and my clothes carried a lingering smell of the sea.

I am a Psychologist, named Lu Dongnuan.

In my past life, I was also a Psychologist, also named Lu Dongnuan.

The only difference is, in this life, I am a woman, and the one who just slammed the door in my face was my last patient.

Why do I call him my Last Patient?

Because I’m about to die in this life, so he’s probably the Last Patient I’ll ever have.

With that in mind, I’ve tried to treat him many times, but unfortunately, just like just now, I’ve been turned away just as many times but I don’t mind.

If it doesn’t work this time, I’ll try again next time.

After all, his family has already paid and if I just walked away, that would be a bit too unrestrained.

Thinking this, I breathed out, and though a vague sense of grievance began to well up in my heart, my good upbringing allowed me to press it down with ease.

Since the patient wasn’t planning on opening the door, I turned to leave, got back in my car, and looked at myself in the rearview mirror.

My eyes are beautifully shaped and spirited, my features are striking and harmonious.

After admiring myself for a while, I felt quite satisfied.

Even a beauty like me could be turned away—mental illness truly is a mysterious thing.

I have three principles when it comes to my work.

First, when out in the world, you must establish your own identity.

If you’re going to do something, appearances are everything.

Whether or not you come from high society doesn’t matter—what matters is that people believe you do.

I think my outfit is extremely fashionable: a tailored designer coat whose brand I can’t even name, all in black, meticulously neat, with two buttons.

The reason for two buttons?

I believe it’s a key point to showcase my character, to reveal a bit of my playful side, so they must stay.

For the inner layer, I chose a white sweater, also with two buttons—preferably black, to complement the coat and accentuate my taste.

At first, I wanted to go with a short skirt and loafers for the bottom, but it’s just too cold today.

In the end, I swapped them out for white dress pants.

Maybe it’s this combination that made the patient uncomfortable, which gives me a sense of failure, but it doesn’t matter.

The second principle is always leave a way out.

Just like what I did just now—if you leave quickly enough, there’s always a next time.

If I forced my way in, I’d only make things worse.

The frequency of visits must be managed: let him remember me, but not grow to hate me.

This is the tricky part.

Perseverance isn’t really possible.

The main thing is, the patient’s family showed such sincerity with their payment, it would be rude not to accept.

But this leads to my third principle: only take what others are willing to give.

You’ll never get what someone doesn’t want to give you, but if they’re willing, you can accept it.

It’s not that I’m lazy or afraid of trouble—it’s about respecting the process and the approach.

Without these steps, I wouldn’t be able to afford a luxury car or live in a fancy house.

After getting home, I turned on the TV.

The news was playing recent events.

“Haha, how boring…”

After watching for a while, I turned off the TV and lay down on the bed, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

But before long, I felt some tremors.

I yawned, got up, and checked my phone.

“No earthquake warning. What’s going on?”

I tried to turn on the light, but discovered the power was out.

“What’s going on?”

I drew the curtains and saw nothing but a dense fog outside, making it impossible to see anything.

Just as I was feeling puzzled, a series of howling sounds echoed from the street.

It was as if someone was hidden in the mist.

I ignored them—after all, occasional madness is healthy.

I closed the curtains and lay back down.

***

“Ding dong.”

Early the next morning, the doorbell rang.

I checked my phone—it was already noon.

“Ding dong.”

The doorbell rang again.

“Who could it be?” I slipped on my slippers, walked to the door, and peered through the peephole.

No one.

I frowned, finding this kind of prank extremely childish.

So I turned and went upstairs, deciding to ignore it but as soon as I returned to my bedroom, I saw a man, holding a Long Knife, covered in blood, standing on the balcony, glaring at me like a beast.

My mind went blank for a second, and I took a step back.

Without the slightest hesitation, the man raised the knife and charged at me.

I stood rooted to the spot, my pupils shrinking sharply.

It wasn’t the bloodstained Long Knife that frightened me, nor his savage expression—it was that I recognized him.

This was my “Last Patient,” the man who shut me out yesterday—Lin Mo.

In a split second, countless details flooded my mind: the news about “rabies biting incidents,” last night’s strange tremors and heavy fog, his bloodshot eyes and utterly deranged behavior.

“Mr. Lin,” my voice was unexpectedly calm, though my body instinctively leaned back into a defensive posture, “put the knife down. We can talk.”

He let out a low, animalistic growl.

His hand trembled around the knife, but his goal was clear—it was me.

“You know me, don’t you?” I slowly edged toward the door, never taking my eyes off him for a second.

“I was at your door just yesterday, remember? I’m Dr. Lu.”

“I’ll cut you down, you bitch!”

“Hey!”

I suddenly grabbed the perfume off the vanity and sprayed it at his eyes.

The moment he reflexively closed them, I spun and dashed for the door.

“Argh!” A furious roar sounded behind me.

The door was right in front of me—I reached out to turn the knob.

It wouldn’t budge?

How?

I rammed it a few times, breaking the stick wedged into the handle.

I yanked open the half-ajar door, muttering under my breath, “I must get an electronic lock next time.”

Glancing back, Lin Mo was already stumbling down the stairs, the Long Knife scraping an ear-piercing sound along the wooden handrail.

His eyes were swollen and red, and his gaze even more frenzied.

There was nowhere to run.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm.

My Psychologist’s instincts overcame my fear.

“Lin Mo,” I switched to a softer tone, just like I had at his door so many times before, “I know you’re in pain right now, but hurting others won’t make you feel any better.”

“Lu Dongnuan, stop trying to confuse me. I won’t believe anything you say anymore.” He seemed utterly contemptuous of my words.

I started racking my brain—’had I ever betrayed him in the past?’

Definitely not.

I’d only seen him three times, and hadn’t even exchanged a single word.

I grabbed the umbrella from the entryway to fend him off, but still, he nicked my wrist.

“Wait, killing me is pointless—I have cancer. I’ll die soon anyway!”

He sneered coldly, “So you think you have cancer?”

Though it didn’t stop him, I managed to stumble backward and slam open the half-closed door.

I scrambled up and dashed out onto the street, not daring to look back.

There was no furious roar behind me.

Very soon, I realized the street had become hell.

The thick fog hadn’t yet dispersed, and I could vaguely see frenzied people chasing and biting each other.

Several cars had crashed, igniting roaring fires.

At that moment, he calmly walked out.

“You filthy whore, can’t you see what’s changed?”

Changed?

Yeah, I could see it.

I looked up at the sky, shrouded in smoke and mist, remembering last night’s meteor shower and those bizarre news reports.

I understood then.

The apocalypse had arrived.

Something came with the meteor shower or the fog, infecting people, changing them.

“So, why do you want to kill me?” Now that I knew the world had ended, I was strangely calm.

But Lin Mo didn’t care to talk.

He closed in on me, choking me by the throat and slammed me to the ground.

Then he dragged me back to the villa.

I didn’t resist throughout.

On the contrary, I was eerily calm—even I found it frightening.