In the end, Zhao Yicheng still didn’t give Xu Yinsheng an answer.
Perhaps the moment he seriously examined the question, he had already fallen into the dead-end logic Xu Yinsheng had designed.
Xu Yinsheng vaguely guessed the answer but simply didn’t want to say it.
After finishing their drinks, the two went to play some golf, with Jin Xinnuo still acting as their caddy.
During the game, Jin Xinnuo even thanked Zhao Yicheng, and Xu Yinsheng naturally took the credit without hesitation.
Later, Xu Yinsheng dragged the two of them to a famous foot spa.
The skilled and beautiful young masseuse’s touch made her whole body tingle with pleasure.
Time quickly sped by until Wednesday.
Entering the Psychological Treatment Room again, Xu Yinsheng felt as if she had stepped into a different world.
The last time, she accompanied Zhao Yicheng—he was the patient.
This time, she was the “patient.”
Originally, Xu Yinsheng had faked Depression just to scare Zhao Yicheng a little, to have some fun.
She never expected it would work so well—so well that she was now addicted to pretending.
After all, being cared for so attentively was an amazing feeling, especially since he tolerated all her complaints and abuse, persevering through it all.
“The reformed serf sings his song”—this was the best description of her current state!
In recent days, Xu Yinsheng felt as if she were floating.
Staring at the young man behind the rosewood desk, dressed entirely in white, Xu Yinsheng took a deep breath and sprawled out in the chair, listless and dispirited, lowering her head to disguise herself as a severely depressed patient.
“Doctor, I’m sick. I have Depression.”
“Hmm. Since when did it start?”
The man in white held a pen, his expression gentle, his tone soft, showing he was willing to listen carefully.
“Don’t be nervous. Treat me like a friend. Say whatever you want.”
“Open your heart. Speak your mind. Say it however you want.”
Xu Yinsheng rolled her eyes.
He gave you the initiative, and you don’t even want it—throwing the question back at me.
Fine, I’ll just have to make up a story.
She stared at the ceiling, her eyes vacant and lifeless.
“Doctor, have you ever had a nightmare?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the scariest nightmare you’ve ever had?”
The man in white recalled, “I dreamt that during high school, after an exam, my test paper was completely blank, and then the head teacher called me to the office to recite English.”
Suddenly, the man realized he’d said too much.
“Sorry, I went off-topic. Let’s get back to your question.”
He shifted his tone, making it as gentle as possible.
“What is the most beautiful thing in this world that you still miss deeply?”
“There are too many things in this world that sadden me. I’m a person cursed by fate.”
Xu Yinsheng closed her eyes in pain.
The man in white felt a little embarrassed.
“When did your depressive symptoms start?”
Xu Yinsheng stared at the ceiling.
“Honestly, I don’t know when exactly. I just remember… back then, the sky was still blue, the water was green, there was no avian flu among the chickens and ducks, pork was safe to eat. People wore clothes for photos, debts had to be repaid, mothers-in-law didn’t marry off their daughters for a house, and fathers of children were clear…”
Two hours later.
The door of the Psychological Treatment Room finally opened.
The man in white walked out holding a medical record, his face complicated.
Zhao Yicheng hurried over, concerned.
“Doctor, how is Xiao Yin’s condition?”
The man in white nodded awkwardly.
He left the door slightly ajar and led Zhao Yicheng to a small cubicle, speaking calmly, “Her condition… is somewhat complicated.”
Zhao Yicheng took a deep breath, his voice solemn.
“Tell me. I want to be mentally prepared.”
The man sat down, looking him in the eyes.
“After my clinical diagnosis just now, the overall conclusion is…”
“Depression?”
“Just a prank.”
The man’s expression turned serious as he gave an unexpected answer.
Zhao Yicheng clearly didn’t believe the doctor’s words.
After all, the fresh cuts on Xu Yinsheng’s wrist were still visible.
“Are you sure?”
The man explained, “Academically, Depression is a common mental disorder caused by various factors, characterized by significant and persistent depressive symptoms, such as mood lowering and loss of interest disproportionate to circumstances. Some patients may exhibit self-harm or suicidal behaviors.”
“But she talked nonstop for two whole hours, from elementary school all the way to adulthood, from Ultraman Gao to Fire Fist Gaia. I couldn’t detect a trace of depression in her.”
He shrugged and continued, “Although I’m not as young as you guys, I’ve seen iPartment. She didn’t even want to make up stories, just used ready-made scripts to fool me.”
“She even claimed Liang Jianru’s lyrics were her own depressive poetry—that’s some talent.”
Zhao Yicheng fell silent for a moment, then spoke in a low voice, “What about the cuts on her wrist?”
“Attention-seeking,” the man said seriously.
“She’s trying to make you think she’s deeply depressed and sad to get extra attention and to hide some other unspeakable secret.”
Straightening up, he looked grave.
“Given this situation, my suggestion is: since it’s all an act, just let it be. Like a child faking illness to skip school.”
His analysis was sincere and rational—it was hard not to believe him.
Zhao Yicheng said nothing, quietly standing there with his head bowed, his expression unreadable, but the tightly clenched fists betrayed the storm of emotions inside him.
No anger. No rage.
Otherwise, his mental illness would relapse.
Zhao Yicheng kept telling himself this.
Yet his heart burned with endless fury.
Why did she have to lie to him?
In such a self-destructive way!
Isn’t he good enough for her now?!
Providing food and drink, installing games for her—this was a life many dreamed of!
But how did she repay him?
He thought genuine feelings would be returned in kind, but it was all a deception!!
Stubborn to the end.
Maybe breaking her legs would be better.
Since she won’t obey, just keep training her until she does!
Zhao Yicheng slowly raised his head, his dark eyes swirling with storm.
“I’ll invest another million in you.”
“Write the medical report the way I want.”
***
Zhang Clinic, Psychological Treatment Room.
“Yan Qing, how have you been lately?”
Xu Yinsheng teased the Yan Qing cat on the desk, pinching the chubby fur. Not long since last time, and Yan Qing had already gained quite a bit of weight.
Looks like the psychologist knows how to take good care of cats.
The door to the Psychological Treatment Room opened again.
The man in white walked in holding the medical report, his face complicated.
“Ms. Mu, about your condition.”
He sat upright, looking at the green-haired woman before him who was feigning Depression, his face serious and earnest.
“Doctor, say it. I’m mentally prepared.”
Xu Yinsheng’s complexion was pale, her gaze unfocused.
She laughed bitterly.
“A waste like me, even if I really had Depression, so what?”
“It’s meaningless. Everything is meaningless.”
“After my clinical diagnosis and interviewing Mr. Zhao, the overall conclusion is—”
The man’s voice was clear and deep.
“Sexual Dysfunction Syndrome.”