Preaching a "Life of Subtraction" while running overwhelming ad campaigns—it was a bit ironic.
The voice drifted through the pillow, filtered and muffled.
"...Humanity was born as children of the earth. We worked at sunrise and rested at sunset, feeling the shape of the wind and touching the warmth of the soil. Back then, the world was small, but our hearts were vast.
"Later, we invented the internal combustion engine, bringing exhaust and pollution. We mined and logged endlessly, leaving countless creatures homeless.
"Think about it. If a great tree wants to grow taller, it must prune its wayward branches. Aside from draining nutrients from the roots, they serve no purpose.
"True wisdom is not about demanding from the outside, but returning to the inside..."
The voice grew fainter. Amidst the late-night patter of rain and the buzzing of his phone, Yu Xian fell asleep.
Tuesday morning. The weather forecast still showed an orange rainstorm warning.
His 8:00 a.m. class was a general elective on ideological and political theory, *Situation and Policy*. Like the weather forecast, it arrived right on time, yet hardly anyone paid attention to its contents. Over two hundred students were packed into the largest lecture hall in the university’s main building.
The old professor on the podium read straight from his PowerPoint slides. The microphone had a faulty connection, producing a static-like white noise that was highly hypnotic. The back rows had been claimed early on, filled with students slumped over their desks. The smells of meat buns, shumai, and grilled cold noodles permeated the air, masking the damp scent of the rain.
Thanks entirely to Shi Zuozhou, Yu Xian had secured a window seat in the third row from the back. Resting his chin in one hand, he stared blankly at the water streaks on the glass. He wondered why Shi Zuozhou had woken up so early today to snag such a prime spot.
His mind was busy rehearsing his upcoming afternoon conversation with the psychologist. He had already learned from his cousin that the doctor’s name was Wen Yu, a psychological consultant specially hired by the municipal police bureau who specialized in PTSD.
Yu Xian unconsciously doodled lines in his notebook. He needed to figure out beforehand what he could and couldn’t say, what information he wanted to extract from her, and whether she would even share it with him. Yu Zhengze had already briefed her on the description of Xia Li’s disappearance, so there was no hiding that. He could also briefly mention the change in Shi Zuozhou’s dietary habits, which didn’t seem like a big deal.
His only concern was whether she might find one of these details unbelievable and subsequently dismiss the rest as pure nonsense. It would be best to keep his physical symptoms—insomnia, anxiety, and palpitations—to himself. Otherwise, she would definitely report them to his cousin, causing him unnecessary worry.
The most crucial task was to pry information out of her regarding the families of the deceased. Yesterday, his cousin had inadvertently revealed that some of the victims’ relatives also felt that the "people around them had changed." Getting the specifics of this information was the true core of his afternoon appointment.
As Yu Xian pondered this, he suddenly felt that something was off. He wondered, "Why does it feel like something is missing from today’s class? Why is it so unusually quiet?"
Glancing at Shi Zuozhou beside him, Yu Xian realized what was missing. In previous lectures, the guy would act like he had ADHD, constantly bothering him with chatter. But today, from the moment class began, he had been staring motionless at his laptop screen. It was packed with dense event-planning documents. It seemed the student union was organizing another large-scale event.
They finally suffered through the lecture. The dismissal bell acted as a pardon for the students, instantly restoring the lively energy that had been suppressed all morning.
Pushing against the crowd surging outward, a damp, cold gust of wind blew in through the back door. A figure with a high ponytail poked her head in, scanned the room, and quickly zeroed in on Shi Zuozhou and Yu Xian.
"Wow, Shi Zuozhou, working hard? Haven’t called it a day yet?" Yang Yiyi teased. She was hugging a few books to her chest and wearing a dark gray windbreaker, likely having just finished class herself.
Shi Zuozhou was still furiously typing away and didn’t even look up. "How many times do I have to tell you? Address me by my title when I’m working."
Yang Yiyi raised an eyebrow with a smile. "Alright, alright, Plant Shi. You put on such a big air for someone with zero actual authority."
Looking as though he had lost the will to live, Shi Zuozhou sighed. "I’m almost done. Brother Yi, it’s just a lecture. Is there really a need to make such a big fuss out of it?"
Yang Yiyi sighed. "It’s an important event specifically requested by the Student Affairs Office. Maybe the guest they invited this time is a big shot. Rumor has it they arrived yesterday."
Shi Zuozhou curled his lip. "It’s not like they’re a celebrity. Do they really have that much influence? If it were a star, I could at least score a few autographed photos to make this suffering worthwhile."
Yu Xian packed his bag on the side, listening to their bickering. The JCU student union wielded considerable influence in Jiangcheng. The president of the JCU student union also served as the president of the Jiangcheng Student Union, giving them reach over a massive percentage of the student population.
"Alright, I’m heading out to eat," Yang Yiyi said, checking her watch. "I have a lab session this afternoon."
"I’m coming too!" Shi Zuozhou looked eager to get some food in his system. He turned to Yu Xian. "Old Yu, want to join us?"
"I’ll pass." Yu Xian swung his backpack onto his shoulders. "I have something to do this afternoon. I need to leave campus."
"Where to? Need any help?"
"I have a doctor’s appointment..." Yu Xian subconsciously touched his cheek. Fearing they would worry, he quickly made up an excuse. "Got a bit of a toothache."
He watched the two of them flash him sympathetic looks before blending into the noisy crowd and disappearing around the corner of the stairs. Yu Xian then turned and headed toward the North Gate, planning to catch a cab to Wen Yu’s clinic.
The North Gate was a fair distance from the main building, with a grove of ginkgo trees lining the path. The heavy rain had prematurely stripped the trees of their brilliant golden leaves, and walking over them in his thick-soled hiking boots produced none of the usual crunching sounds.
The ride-hailing driver plunged straight into the congested traffic. Jiangcheng’s traffic had been atrocious over the past few days due to severe waterlogging, stretching what should have been a thirty-minute drive into a grueling hour. According to the driver, the rain was only partly to blame; the main issue was that many major roads had been blockaded over the past few months.
From a distance, Yu Xian could see reflective warning tape cordoning off several intersections. Warning signs reading "Military Control Ahead" were erected far in advance, leaving him wondering what kind of major incident had occurred.
PIC was one of Jiangcheng’s established high-end office buildings, located in the ultra-expensive city center. The lower levels were occupied by luxury brand counters and imported goods supermarkets. Given that she could afford to open a clinic here, Dr. Wen’s fees clearly wouldn’t be cheap.
Yu Xian had looked it up after his cousin mentioned her. Strictly speaking, the colloquial term "psychologist" was a muddled concept. The ones practicing in public hospitals with prescription rights to treat mental illnesses with medication were psychiatrists; they primarily focused on physiological, organic lesions. On the other hand, professionals like Wen Yu—who used conversation to guide emotions—were accurately termed psychological consultants, focusing more on the psychological repair of trauma.
The receptionist swiped a keycard for him, and the elevator swiftly arrived at the forty-first floor. It was exceptionally quiet up here. The corridors were lined with thick carpets, and the air carried a faint aromatherapy scent that Yu Xian couldn’t identify.
The Wen Yu Psychological Consulting Center was located in the innermost suite, marked by a heavy solid wood door and a brass nameplate beside it. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the doorbell.
A few seconds later, the door swung open.
It wasn’t what he expected. Yu Xian had thought the person opening the door would be an expert with thick-rimmed glasses, but instead... it was a woman who appeared to be in her thirties. She wore a simple beige knit sweater, her long hair loosely tied back, and a pair of thin, gold-rimmed glasses resting on her nose. She exuded a gentle, intellectual aura—a maturity entirely absent in the young girls of Yu Xian’s age.
"Yu Xian?" Her voice was incredibly soft. Yu Xian felt as though he were being treated like a frightened kitten hiding under a car. "I’m Wen Yu. Captain Yu gave me a brief rundown of your situation."
"Hello, Dr. Wen." Yu Xian was a bit surprised. Hearing his cousin constantly refer to her as an "expert," he had assumed she would be at least his parents’ age.
"No need to call me doctor. Just Wen Yu is fine, or you can call me Sister Wen." She stepped aside, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Come in, the consultation room is this way."
The consultation room was exquisitely furnished. Unlike the desks and reclining chairs from the movies and TV shows in Yu Xian’s memory, this space felt more like a cozy living room. Beside the floor-to-ceiling windows sat a beige fabric sofa. A floor lamp in the corner cast a warm, yellow glow. The low cabinet against the wall held very few books, replaced instead by a collection of plush toys and figurines.
Wen Yu brought over a glass of water and placed it on the coffee table next to him. She sat on the sofa opposite Yu Xian and spoke in a casual, conversational tone, "Captain Yu mentioned you haven’t been sleeping well lately?"