Reality Programming Association

Chapter 12: Chapter 6: The Task Force’s Psychologist

Yu Xian couldn’t quite remember how the afternoon class had ended.

He only recalled that a window in the tiered lecture hall must not have been closed properly. A cold wind, carrying strands of rain, kept gusting in, making him a little dizzy.

He’d taken a few pages of notes, but his handwriting was so messy that even he could barely recognize it.

He didn’t snap out of it until the bell rang for the end of his evening class, the rows of folding chairs snapped back into place one by one, and the students around him started packing their bags.

By the time he walked out of the academic building, the sky was completely dark.

It was still raining. The puddles on the ground were deep enough to almost cover the tops of his shoes. ’I’ll have to wear my thick-soled hiking boots tomorrow,’ he thought.

Walking into his residential complex, he glanced at his phone. 9:40. At this hour, his cousin was probably still busy at the station.

He carried the things he’d bought that morning, stomped to activate the voice-activated light, and fumbled in his backpack for his keys.

When he reached the third floor, Yu Xian paused. A sliver of light was showing from under the door.

He pushed the door open. The main light in the living room was on. The sound of the range hood came from the kitchen, along with a mixed smell of cooking.

”Class ended this late?”

Yu Zhengze walked out holding a plate, still in the blue shirt he wore for work. He probably hadn’t been home for long either.

”Yeah, I had an evening class.”

Yu Xian shook his umbrella, closed the door, and set the large bag of tissues, toothpaste, and face wash on the floor.

”You’re back so early today?”

”I’ve been working overtime every day recently.” Yu Zhengze put the plate on the table and said casually,

”Today, they’re covering for me for once. You haven’t eaten, have you? Wash your hands and eat.”

He sat down at the table. There were two dishes.

One was scrambled eggs with tomato, but the tomatoes and eggs looked undercooked.

The other was shredded pork with green peppers, which also gave up on color, aroma, and flavor.

”Just make do.” Yu Zhengze looked a little embarrassed. ”It’s been raining so hard these past few days that delivery services have mostly stopped.”

The two of them ate in silence for a while, the only sound the CLINK-CLANK of their bowls and chopsticks.

Perhaps even he felt the silence was a bit awkward, so Yu Zhengze was the first to speak.

”How was school today?”

”It was fine.” Yu Xian stared at the shredded pork with green peppers. ”I bought some daily necessities in the morning and was in class all afternoon.”

”You didn’t run into any trouble, did you?”

”No.”

The exchange was quick, a question and an answer.

Yu Xian didn’t tell his cousin about the whole cilantro incident with Shi Zuozhou. Telling him would only make him worry for no reason.

”Xiaoxian.” Yu Zhengze put down his chopsticks, not beating around the bush. ”You’re still thinking about that girl.”

Yu Xian’s hand, which was picking up food, froze. ”I’m fine. I’m much better.”

”I can tell whether you’re fine or not.”

Yu Zhengze pulled a lighter from his pocket and looked at Yu Xian.

”I made an appointment with a doctor for you.”

The lighter’s metal cap flipped open and shut, making a crisp CLICK.

Yu Xian looked up.

”A doctor?”

”A therapist.” He paused, seeming to gauge Yu Xian’s reaction.

”I’m not sick.” Yu Xian put down his chopsticks and looked at Yu Zhengze. ”I’ve checked. I don’t fit the symptoms for schizophrenia or dissociative identity disorder.”

”I know you’re not sick,” Yu Zhengze explained patiently.

”This is a therapist, not a psychiatrist. She’s a consultant hired by our department’s task force, specializing in providing psychological counseling to the victims’ families and witnesses.”

’The task force,’ Yu Xian knew, ’of course meant the serial suicide case.’

”You know about this case. The victims... they’re unusual. Many of the family members and witnesses have developed severe stress reactions. They always feel like the people around them have changed, or they recall strange little details. This doctor is very professional and has done a lot of related intervention work.”

Yu Xian’s heart suddenly leaped.

’Felt like the people around them have changed?’

’Isn’t that the same feeling I have about Shi Zuozhou?’

’So I’m not the only one in this city experiencing this?’

”Just think of it as having someone else to talk to. In your current state, bottling things up will only make it worse.”

”Okay, I’ll go.”

Yu Xian picked up his chopsticks again.

’If this doctor has handled cases similar to mine, the information she has might really be able to help me.’

Yu Zhengze visibly sighed in relief, the tense lines of his face finally softening.

”Good. I’ll schedule the appointment for you, then. Any time you don’t have class is fine.”

Seeing Yu Xian swallow a piece of the somewhat shriveled green pepper, a rare trace of relief showed at the corner of his mouth.

”Eat up. Look how thin you are.”

The faucet turned on and off. It was almost eleven o’clock.

Yu Xian turned off the light and lay on the small bed in the secondary bedroom.

The RUSTLE of his cousin turning pages came through the thin wall.

He had no class tomorrow afternoon, so the appointment with the doctor was scheduled for then.

He rolled over to face the window.

Outside, a car’s headlights would occasionally sweep across the curtain of rain, tracing a faint, bright line before quickly retreating into the darkness.

He couldn’t sleep. He was wide awake, yet exhausted.

He sighed, pulled out his phone, and decided to find some noise to help him fall asleep.

He randomly opened the radio app he had downloaded during the day. The homepage recommended a program called ”Tranquil Night Reading.”

He pressed the play button. A deep, magnetic male voice began to speak, accompanied by soft, soothing piano music.

He turned off the screen, tucked the phone under his pillow, and prepared to drift off.

”...In this age filled with anxiety, we are always accustomed to constantly taking, to ’adding on.’ We want more friends, a better career, more profound memories. But the book we’re sharing today, *Life of Subtraction*, offers a completely different answer...”

’Why is it this book again?’ Even before the host said it, he already knew who the author was.

Mr. Su. He seemed to recall hearing about this book on the radio before, when he was in Yu Zhengze’s car.