Tianwu is more like a sanatorium than a hospital.
A garden filled with birdsong and fragrant flowers, clean and tidy fitness equipment, and... countless patients wearing uniforms identified by numbers.
From zero to the unknown, they have no names.
The nurse scolded, "0377, don't steal 0324's cookies."
It's just like scolding an ignorant child.
In reality, they were two young men in their prime. One of them was grabbing something from the other, a fatter young man, with a somewhat aggressive grip. The fat man was rubbing his lips hard, and blood was seeping from his teeth. He had a strange smile on his face.
The young man, his teeth stained with blood, suddenly lowered his head and bit the fat young man's arm. In the blink of an eye, a bloody mess was torn from the fat man's arm.
A young and strong male nurse stepped forward to pull the person away, while the other patients formed a circle, clapping their hands and laughing and cheering like children.
Aheng took a step back and bumped into Yan hope. She turned around with a look of panic, but the boy's expression was unusually calm, without any expression, or rather, so empty that nothing could be read from it.
She stood there, her gaze fixed on him, clear as a mirror, reflecting a shimmering light.
It has everything, and it has nothing.
Dr. Zheng was a man in his thirties, wearing a white coat. He looked very clean and was a gentle person.
He called out his name—Yan hope.
Yan hope just looked down at his "home" and ignored him.
Dr. Zheng smiled and looked at Aheng—"You and Siwan?"
"Brother and sister."
Dr. Zheng nodded. "No wonder, you look so alike. He used to bring Yan hope here, but today it was you. You must trust and be very close to Yan hope."
She only heard the first half of the sentence. Before, it was always Siwan who brought Yan Xi here, but what about Grandpa Yan and Lieutenant Li? Why hadn't they come? Were they afraid of damaging the Yan family's reputation...?
Ah Heng felt a chill in her heart.
Dr. Zheng seemed to see through Ah Heng's thoughts and explained somewhat awkwardly, "My husband is very busy with work, but he always calls to ask about things in detail."
Ah Heng smiled bitterly. She had time to make phone calls but no time to take Yan hope to the doctor? No wonder Yan hope had been confined at home for half a year…
For a full six months, they kept it a secret even from the Xin family.
She looked at Yan hope, but Yan hope only lowered his head, his black hair sticking to his forehead, faintly obscuring his bright eyes.
Ah Heng gripped his hand, unconsciously increasing her strength. Yan hope felt a sharp pain, looked up, and pushed her away forcefully.
Ah Heng was stunned. Could she also be... someone who could hurt Yan Xi?
Dr. Zheng sighed, picked up a medical flashlight, examined Yan Xi's eyes, and then waved his finger in front of Yan hope's eyes. The boy's eyes followed the flashlight slowly, without any agility.
Dr. Zheng frowned and asked Aheng, "Has he been like this for the past few days, seemingly indifferent to everything?"
Ah Heng nodded and pointed to what the boy was clutching in his left palm—"Except for this."
"This should be the reason why Yan hope relapsed," Dr. Zheng said after a moment's thought.
Aheng stared intently—"What do you mean?"
“Generally speaking, hysteria occurs when a patient, after experiencing severe trauma, is unable to protect themselves or dispel their grief, and instead engages in constant self-suggestion, trapping themselves in a false sense of security. Once a psychological trigger or a situation they perceive as unsafe occurs, they will exhibit hysterical behavior.” Dr. Zheng paused—“Of course, some patients also get caught up in role-playing, unable to release past grief, and thus change roles to abuse and punish themselves.”
“Yan hope, that’s it.” Dr. Zheng looked down at Yan hope’s medical records—“However, it’s not a simple case of one thing, but rather two concurrent symptoms. So, if you take something away from him that he’s holding in his left hand, it makes him feel very uneasy, and he might even attack others. That thing becomes the trigger for his emotional instability. And two years ago, his second personality appeared…”
Ah Heng interrupted Dr. Zheng—"What is a second personality?"
“The second personality is the role he plays.” Dr. Zheng smiled. “Sometimes the patient’s performance is more realistic than that of a stage actor. Two years ago, before Yan hope recovered from his illness, he also insisted that he was Cinderella who lost her glass slipper.”
He stood up and smiled at Aheng—"Hypnotherapy for patients requires absolute quiet. Now, please wait in the reception room."
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As I walked out of the hospital, the evening sunlight was beautiful, a golden hue like flowing sand, gently softening my shadow.
Dr. Zheng drew a conclusion.
This time, Yan hope's second personality is Pinocchio. He says he lied, his nose grows one centimeter every day, he can't get his family's forgiveness, and he can't go home.
Then, he asked her, somewhat puzzled, "Who is Aheng?" During the hypnosis session, Yan Xi mentioned this person and cried.
The street where Tianwu General Hospital is located is somewhat remote.
She held Yan hope's hand, but they still couldn't see a taxi. On the way here, she had been preoccupied with other things and had forgotten to remember the way.
Although she had lived in City B for more than a year, she had only been to a handful of places, so when she stepped out of the hospital, everything around her was unfamiliar.
"Yanxi, you stay here and behave yourself. I'll go to the intersection to flag down a car." Aheng smiled and let go of his hand—"Don't run around, okay?"
Yan hope slowly raised his head, glanced at her, and then lowered his head again.
When she returned, she was nowhere to be found.
My mind went completely blank.
"Yan..." He opened his mouth, but no matter what he did, he couldn't make a sound.
She went mad, feeling an overwhelming sense of despair wash over her.
Turning around, all I could see were a few narrow alleyways, crisscrossing and silent.
The quiet shadows under the setting sun seemed to suddenly sway, eerily, as if mocking her, lunging towards her.
There is no goal, no destination.
She kept running forward, against the light, as if with each step she drew closer to darkness, yet she had no other choice.
At that time, I lost my rationality, and even my instincts seemed to be consumed with every breath.
So tired, so tired...
Even more tiring than when Yan hope first disappeared, which took two days and two nights...
She couldn't run anymore and stood down under the green tiles of the wall.
The old alleyway smelled of decay and decay.
In the distance, a melodious voice could be faintly heard—"Rattle drum, little clay figurine, Kunlun slave, buy these for the child..."
At the crossroads of the alley, a peddler carrying goods on a shoulder pole gently and slowly shakes a small cowhide rattle.
The crudely made masks stung her eyes in the setting sun.
That thin figure squatted in front of the goods, his face slightly innocent, his black hair warmed and then cooled in the sunlight.
She walked up to him, and in an instant, tears streamed down her face.
She bent down, her figure overlapping his shadow, embraced him, and never wanted to let go.
They held on tightly, not even wanting to hear a breath.
Closing your eyes is like being drowning, a despair deeper than the deepest despair.
Even with an antidote, there is no way to reverse the pain.
He struggled, and she knew he was uncomfortable being held like this, but she couldn't bear to let go.
"Yanxi, didn't I tell you to behave? Why are you running around like this!" she yelled at him, tears streaming down her face, looking utterly pathetic.
The boy, who was like a child, had hair that smelled faintly of milk. He was quiet in her arms, his voice muffled and indistinct, just single syllables.
"Mask. Home, yes."
He spoke to her with a serious and strained voice.
Ah Heng trembled slightly.
He gently pushed her away, squinted, and pointed to the dazzling array of masks on the carrying pole.
Ah Heng stood up, but the merchant carrying the goods laughed—"This child has been following me all the way, staring at the mask the whole time."
She smiled, wiping away her tears—"Master, I'll buy it."
When she was taking out her money, the boy suddenly grabbed her hand and started running wildly.
Ah Heng was startled and followed beside him, stumbling and falling as he pulled her along.
"Yanxi, where are you going?" she asked him, the wind whispering in her ear, her voice fading into the distance.
The boy didn't answer; he just kept running.
Overpass, green trees, park, street.
Every place, near and far, blurred and clear, blurred again.
His left hand is his "home," and his right hand is Aheng's Yanxi's Aheng.
Her left hand was a cool, warm touch. Her knuckles were curved and pressed tightly together, without any gaps.
It seems we are about to reach some uncertain place, with no destination and no end.
When she stopped, there was a door in front of her.
There is no house number.
He slightly raised his face, his voice soft—"Home, you."
He knew she didn't remember the way, but he didn't know why she did.
Ah Heng laughed, not expecting Yan hope to bring her back. She looked at him and gently corrected him.
"This is your home."
Yan hope shook her head, her big eyes pure and clear—"Yours."
"And what about yours?"
The child, however, held his head and burst into tears, his features almost scrunched up together.
"Aheng, you hate me. My home is gone."
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Dr. Zheng told her that Yan hope's medical record also listed aphasia.
He will gradually isolate himself completely from the world.
Chapter 47