The Versatile Master Artist

Holding Bu Dao in his arms, the other would bare its teeth and claws wanting chocolate.

On the other hand, Jean Arnou’s son would most often just sit alone on a sun lounger, hugging a plush toy, lost in thought.

A day, a year, or a lifetime.

The distinction on Tony seemed subtle.

He even lived his entire life like a big puppet dressed up by caregivers.

In these treatment logs, the doctor’s notes about the servants’ descriptions of Tony, the words clearly conveyed Tony’s lack of sufficient ”human” emotions.

”The cat called Amy, perhaps it’s a good opportunity.”

In the silent chatroom, Mr. Tree Sloth suddenly spoke.

Anna also had the same information sent by Jean Arnou’s assistant in her hands.

She spoke up, ”Lady Detective Cat, did you see that photo taken by the swimming pool earlier? I find this photo looks rather unique.”

Gu Weijing knew which photo Mr. Tree Sloth was referring to.

As the agent spoke, his gaze rested on a photo printed from a document in a manila folder.

It was an old film photo scanned into an electronic version, with the hazy texture of film exposure grain.

The background was an indoor swimming pool.

At the time, Tony was still truly a child by age, surrounded by a pink inflatable swimming ring, next to a gray-furred cat.

The photo also had a caption: ”Tony and Amy swimming, Grand Hotel Palace Milan, 1993.”

”Amy?”

Gu Weijing’s fingers paused quietly flipping the page.

Typically, pet cats aren’t very fond of water.

But this cat in the photo was an exception, seeming to swim quite happily.

The boy flailed about wildly in the water, the cat flailed about wildly in the water too.

Water droplets frozen on the cat’s wet fur, water droplets equally frozen on Tony’s wet hair in a swimsuit.

In the shimmering pool light, the scene of one person and one cat quietly fixed in the camera lens.

The photo was taken thirty years ago, also the oldest among the photos in the manila folder.

The file also contained other photos of Tony as an adult, but Gu Weijing singled out this one, falling into deep thought as he gazed at it.

It was different from all the other photos.

”Tony in the photo had the real joy of a child at that time.”

Gu Weijing understood what attracted him to this photo, he spoke to Mr. Tree Sloth.

The material contained many candid shots of Tony’s life.

In most of those photos, Tony was dressed smartly, unlike many people with mental illness who appeared disheveled in tattered clothes.

With Jean Arnou’s wealth, hiring a caregiver to maintain his son’s neat appearance was hardly difficult.

It would be truly odd if Tony appeared terribly in the lens.

However.

The moment Gu Weijing saw all those photos, it was instantly apparent Tony wasn’t normal.

Perhaps it was his evasive eyes lacking focus, perhaps his empty, chaotic demeanor, or something else.

For a sensitive artist, the missing soul of a subject attracts attention like a soul missing an arm or a leg.

No matter how well-dressed, Tony as an adult in those photos resembled software from which a vital engineering document or program code had been removed.

He seemed able to operate normally as a human, but constantly emitted a feeling different from healthy people.

Only this photo was different.

Tony was smiling, genuinely smiling.

From his posture, movements, and eyes in the pool, there was no fundamental difference from other kids his age in the pool.

Even the prominent red pimples on his face were so ordinary.

Ordinary to the point of being mundane.

Mundane to the point of being adorable.

At this moment, Tony captured in the camera was just an ordinary, mundane boy about to enter middle school.

”At this moment, with the cat, Tony is complete.”

Gu Weijing slowly said, ”Was Amy his pet?”

”Yes, I knew you would notice that cat. Absolutely, Amy was the Scottish Fold cat that grew up with Tony. In a sense, Amy was the most successful psychological therapist among countless hired by Jean Arnou for his son.”

Jin Anqing wasn’t surprised the illustrator took note of that cat’s uniqueness to Tony.

If this illustrator didn’t even possess that degree of insight, he might question whether inviting him to partake in the therapy was the right decision.

Yet, there was little joy in his tone.

”I must remind you, using Amy as the focal point is a very difficult task, likely far more challenging than you presume.”

”Why?”

Mr. Tree Sloth sensed the complex meaning in Dr. Jin’s tone.

”Because every psychologist involved in Tony’s treatment—I, my predecessor, my predecessor’s predecessor... all knew that Amy is the key to entering Tony’s inner world.”

”In psychology, there’s a term called conscious reflex, similar to physiological knee-jerk reflex or Pavlov’s conditioned reflex in biological experiments with dogs. Except this occurs on the consciousness level. It’s a response formed deep within people upon hearing a specific targeted stimulus.”