Unable to breathe - Chapter 25
Li Meijin, professor of criminal psychology at the People's Public Security University of China, said:
"We shouldn't assume that someone commits a crime because of something they saw today. That's one type. But many criminal psychology, especially deviant criminal psychology, is not like that. Deviant crimes often involve a long time ago and are related to the person's personality development and life development."
"Now let's continue talking about Huang Yong. Let's analyze his past behavior further. Why did he become so withdrawn? Why was he prone to getting lost in his imagination? Why did he accept this kind of violence? What were the reasons? Actually, it was because his parenting style was problematic. In other words, certain parenting styles can create such a personality. For example, if parents are indifferent to their children, rarely communicate with them, and belittle them, then the child will withdraw into himself when no one loves or cares for him. He has never been encouraged, never been taken seriously, and never known where his self-confidence came from, which is why he developed the way he did later."
"If you truly want to study the psychology behind preventing these kinds of crimes, then I must tell society to focus on the way children are raised and educated in their early years. This upbringing is a crucial factor in shaping a person's character, and character development is a significant factor in determining their later behaviors. Many people believe that Huang Yong committed crimes simply because he watched a violent movie, but those who study psychology know that violent movies are merely a trigger. People focus more on what they can see and touch, but they don't understand what happened before that, thinking it's too distant. I say that's wrong; you're ignoring the long-term causes, and such people will reappear."
Psychological Experiment: The Pygmalion Effect
In 1968, renowned American psychologists and Harvard University professors Rosenthal and Jacobson conducted a groundbreaking psychology experiment that shook the American education community. They randomly selected three classes from each grade level (grades 1-6) of an elementary school and administered tests on the children's reasoning and language skills. However, they only conducted the testing procedure; the results were not recorded. After the tests, they randomly selected a dozen or so names from each class's roster, compiled a list, and gave it to the children's teachers, solemnly informing them that these children had performed exceptionally well on the test, possessed great potential, and would undoubtedly achieve even better academic results in the future. No one except the children's teachers knew about this secret list.
Eight months later, Rosenthal and his colleagues revisited the school, and the miracle they had anticipated occurred: the academic performance of the randomly selected children had shown a remarkable improvement. Rosenthal used a beautiful Greek myth to name this psychological experiment with its positive results: the Pygmalion effect (in Greek mythology, Pygmalion was the king of Cyprus who was captivated by a statue of a maiden he had sculpted, and longed for her to become his lover; his sincere feelings moved the goddess of love, and his statue was given life).
However, while people repeatedly affirm the positive value of this experiment, they have overlooked its other negative effect: those children who were not on Rosenthal's list were certainly treated as ordinary children by their teachers, so they may very well behave ordinaryly throughout their lives. Isn't that somewhat cruel? And what about those children who are arbitrarily labeled as bad students, poor students, naughty children, or stupid by their teachers? Are they destined to grow up to be the kind of people their teachers expect them to be? Isn't that even crueler?
After reading it, Zhao Xiaowei couldn't help but feel surprised and frightened, realizing that so many unexpected endings could occur in ordinary life. She thought, "No wonder Yang Ming wants to study the butterfly effect; does he believe that all evil originates from the butterfly effect?"
Thinking of this, she suddenly became excited and immediately sent Yang Ming a text message:
"I want to go to my mom's house after get off work. I'll make sure you're too scared to walk alone!"
She thought he was probably busy with an interview and wouldn't pay any attention to her.
Yang Ming quickly replied to the text message:
"If I give it to you, there are two possible bad outcomes: A) you fall in love with me, or B) I fall in love with you. Which would you choose, A or B?"
"It's a promise, I'll be waiting for you!"
That night, Yang Ming accompanied Zhao Xiaowei to the mall before taking her home. As they walked through the dark alley, Zhao Xiaowei clung tightly to Yang Ming, who held her hand firmly. The two didn't say a word, just walked very slowly, as if neither of them wanted to break up immediately. They showed no fear and never even considered that the psychopathic killer might be following them.
Story: Life is like a game of chess; giving way once is never a loss for me.
The scoundrel spent eight years in prison. He paid the price of eight years of his life for robbing an old motorcycle.
On the day the scoundrel was released from prison, his wife and mother came to pick him up with new clothes, but his daughter did not come.
The three of them took a taxi directly to a bathhouse, where the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law waited for him to go in to shower and change.
When he came out wearing brand new clothes, he was also tightly holding a plastic bag containing the clothes he had worn back from prison.
His wife frowned, snatched the plastic bag from his hand, and threw it into the trash can.
The wife checked her watch, dialed her cell phone, and said, "Check if my daughter has arrived at the private room I booked." After a while, she replied, "You've arrived? Wait for us, we'll be there soon!"
The hoodlum watched and listened, his eyes wide with disbelief, feeling as if he were dreaming. His former wife used to speak softly, her face flushing easily, unlike now, so loud and boisterous. She seemed like a different person; he had to look up at her. He tried to smile, to smile easily, always smiling at his wife and mother, but since they met, she hadn't given him a single smile. In the days leading up to his release, he kept dreaming, always dreaming of washing his wife's clothes at home—her socks, bras, and underwear. He loved washing her underwear; touching it felt like touching her body, exciting him, fueling his fantasies, drawing him closer to her. This beautiful dream was about to be fulfilled again, and he started fantasizing again, even during the day he was immersed in his own daydreams. He hadn't washed his wife's socks, bras, and underwear for eight years; now he wanted to make up for it.
He thought the first thing he should do when he got home was to wash her socks, bra, and underwear.
But the first thing he doesn't know is where he is.
He sat in the taxi for a long time, unable to remember which street he was on. The narrow, shabby road of the past was gone; the bustling street before him seemed to have led him to a city he had never seen before. Gone were the low, dilapidated buildings of the past; the newly erected, dazzling high-rises made him dizzy. The men and women on the sidewalks, dressed in their finery, made him feel ashamed. The city had become so prosperous, so full of gold and wealth, which terrified him even more. Aside from his hundred-odd pounds of bones and skin, he had nothing—no skills, no talents, no abilities, and certainly no courage. He thought, "I've never been here before, I've never been here before."
The taxi stopped in front of a large glass door. On either side of the door stood beautiful women in bright red cheongsams, revealing their long, white legs. He thought to himself, "I mustn't look. The guards are standing behind me, watching me. There are even cameras up there."
The young lady glanced at him and gave him a sweet smile, making him laugh so hard he backed away. His eyes were soft and slick, always looking at everything with timid, furtive glances. He watched in astonishment as his wife, chest puffed out, walked through the glass door, both girls bowing to her. His heart pounded with fear; he didn't know what to do. The guards weren't around; was sneaking in a violation of prison rules? A violation of prison rules?
His wife turned around and glared at him, saying, "Go away!"
His mother sighed and whispered to him, "Don't be afraid, she'll treat you to a meal at a restaurant. She has plenty of money!"
The boy didn't understand what his mother meant. Watching the people who went in chatting and laughing arrogantly, and watching the people who came out flushed and smug, his legs felt heavier and heavier, and he couldn't lift them. He was afraid of facing so many strangers, afraid of their scrutinizing gazes.
Luckily, his daughter came out. Grandma said, "Come quickly and call your dad! Come quickly and call your dad!" The daughter came to him, looked at him, and then looked at him again. Grandma said, "Don't you always want your dad? Why don't you call him now that you've seen him?" The daughter timidly called out "Dad," her voice coming from her throat. He couldn't answer, didn't know how to answer, and just stared at her, unable to recall what she looked like when she was little.
Looking at the many delicious dishes laid out on the table, observing his wife's expression, and noticing his daughter secretly glancing at him, he didn't know which dishes he should eat and which he shouldn't. He often held his chopsticks, his eyes darting around, unable to make up his mind. He wolfed down the food without really knowing what it tasted like, but it was definitely much better and more delicious than the food he ate in prison.
His wife didn't say much, he didn't say anything, and his daughter kept tilting her head to look at him as if he were a monster.
His mother always wanted to look at him closely, but she was also afraid to look at him.
Later, for some reason, her daughter left.
His wife started talking to him, and he thought that the first thing he would do when he got home was to wash her socks, bra, and underwear. Then his wife asked him, "Are you listening to me?" He looked at his wife strangely and heard her say, "We can't live together. Let's get a divorce."
He was suddenly startled. Divorced? What does "divorced" mean? Why did they divorce? Who divorced whom?
His mother glared at him.
My wife said again, "We can't live together, let's get a divorce."
The hoodlum finally understood what that meant. No, no, no! I can't leave you! Why do I have to leave? My dear wife, not a day goes by that I don't think about you. I rushed out to see you. What's the point of living without you? I want to come out every day to wash your socks, bras, and underwear! I haven't even touched you yet! I haven't even kissed you! I just came out of there, I know nothing about the outside world. I have no skills, no education, I can't do anything. My future, my future, cannot be without you…
But why can't he open his mouth? Why isn't he saying anything?
He saw himself suddenly kneel down, kneeling before his newly met wife. He knelt for a long time before finally saying, "Let's stay together, don't separate. The first one isn't good for the child, and the second one is me… Let's stay together, don't separate, don't separate." He heard his own voice barely audible, like a mosquito's buzz, utterly weak. Then he fell silent, kneeling there, feeling a torrent of water streaming down his face, as if he hadn't shed a drop of water in years.
He didn't understand why his wife was crying too, and why she ran out crying.
While I was in prison, I thought of you day and night. Not a single day went by that I didn't think of you. If it weren't for thinking of you every day, I might not have made it this far. You are my sky, you are my earth. I can't live without you. How could I live without you? You are the only one in my heart. I can't live without you. I'm not afraid of having no money or a house. As long as I have you, I am the happiest person in the world. I haven't lived in vain in this life because I found you. Without you, I can't live anymore...
He knelt there for so long that he didn't even understand why he was kneeling there anymore, and he was even crying.
The scoundrel couldn't remember how he got home; once he got home, he was bedridden.
His wife left, taking only their daughter with her, leaving him with 60,000 yuan.
More than a month later, he finally struggled out of bed. His mother said, "Don't be so upset. She's gone, so be it. Find a decent woman. How could she earn so much money? It's just because she's pretty!"
The scoundrel couldn't understand what his mother was saying. Later he understood; it turned out that while he was in prison, his wife had gone out to work and earned a lot of money.