Chapter 27: An Uncommon Psychological Consultation

Chapter 27: An Uncommon Psychological Consultation

In a quiet and cozy counseling room, a few gentle paintings hung on the walls, and several green plants were arranged throughout the space, creating a peaceful atmosphere. The morning sunlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting a warm glow over the comfortable sofa and adding a touch of warmth to the room.

Dr. Zhou sat at his desk behind a nameplate reading "Psychological Counselor Zhang Wei." His gaze was gentle and attentive. When he saw Zhang Sanlu enter, he stepped out from behind the desk and sat on the sofa, pen and notebook in hand, ready to record anything important. His posture was relaxed, yet he maintained a professional alertness, as if always prepared to listen and understand the visitor’s inner thoughts.

Zhang Sanlu sat in the armchair opposite, initially looking somewhat tense and uneasy, his hands unconsciously fiddling with the edge of his clothes.

Dr. Zhou, sensitive to such details, didn’t point it out but instead began the conversation in a calm, empathetic tone. His voice was steady and filled with understanding, making one feel accepted and seen.

“Xiao Zhang, do you know the exact name of your condition?”

“Yes, schizophrenia, also called schizophrenic disorder.”

“Mm, actually, this illness is often not solely self-induced—it has a genetic component. Of course, some people are just more sensitive by nature. These days, a lot of people are studying traditional medicine, with its concepts of the triple burner—upper, middle, and lower. Wherever the energy stagnates, illness may follow. These triple burners sound a bit like the ‘three corpses’ in Daoism, don’t they? Haha.” Dr. Zhou spoke casually, even making a small joke.

“Aren’t you a Western doctor? Since when did you start studying traditional medicine?” Zhang Sanlu replied with a smile.

“It’s good to draw from many sources. There’s no harm in learning, just as you managed to pass the college entrance exam despite your illness. Even if you never got to set foot on campus, that’s still something, isn’t it?”

“It’s nothing to regret. That’s just life; you never know if tomorrow or an accident will come first.”

“You really are quite philosophical.”

“Well, I have to be. Already mentally ill—if I don’t stay positive, all that’s left is the illness, haha.” Zhang Sanlu made a small joke of his own.

Dr. Zhou chuckled and continued, “You had your first episode in your second year of high school, at seventeen, correct?”

“Yes.” Zhang Sanlu nodded.

“What were the initial symptoms? I know the records mention some, but I’d like to hear it in your own words.”

“I started off feeling inferior, blaming myself, depressed, and sometimes restless. Life just felt meaningless.”

“Did you ever harm yourself?”

“No, but I did have thoughts about it. Sometimes I’d get into conflicts with others, and I had frequent headaches.”

“When did the auditory and visual hallucinations begin?”

“About two months after the first episode. Honestly, sometimes I’m not sure if what I experienced was really a hallucination.”

“It can be hard to tell. The condition progressed quickly. After your diagnosis at the local psychiatric department, how long did you take medication?”

“Two or three months, but it didn’t really help.”

“I’ve seen your prescriptions. Not every medication works for everyone. Symptoms may appear similar, but each case is different. Xiao Zhang, do you trust me?”

“Yes, I do. After all, you’re my attending physician.” Zhang Sanlu paused, then added, “And you arranged for my transfer to the semi-open second ward.”

Dr. Zhou smiled slightly but didn’t reply. Instead, he suddenly asked, “When, in your memory, did your mother first fall ill?”

Zhang Sanlu didn’t answer, simply staring at Dr. Zhou. Silence filled the room.

“Don’t misunderstand. As I said from the start, this illness isn’t always self-inflicted—there’s often a hereditary factor. Understanding your family history will help with your treatment.”

Zhang Sanlu felt this wasn’t an ordinary consultation, though he couldn’t tell if it was just his illness acting up again. They had talked at length, but there was much more beneath the surface—what seemed like a harmonious conversation was actually full of mutual probing.

A skilled psychologist knows how to gradually put the interviewee at ease, encouraging them to open up and share their experiences and feelings. With patience, they pose open-ended questions to help the person explore their emotions and thoughts more deeply, using professional techniques like active listening, empathy, reflection, and gentle challenge to help the client understand their emotions, identify possible issues, and search for solutions.

Back when he first fell ill, Zhang Sanlu had researched these methods and even used some of these tricks to hide things during his interactions with psychologists.

He always treated them with respect, knowing that the process was about understanding oneself and finding new courage to face life’s challenges.

But when it came to his mother’s illness, he always remained evasive.

“Since you’re resistant to that topic, let’s talk about something else,” Dr. Zhou broke the silence and steered the conversation onward. “Do you remember the herbal pills you dropped last time?”

Zhang Sanlu nodded.

“We had their components analyzed by the lab.”

Here comes the next act, Zhang Sanlu thought.

“Some ingredients turned out to be fragments of human DNA; some couldn’t be identified at all. A colleague in the lab joked that maybe we’re about to get an invitation from the Nobel committee, haha…”

Zhang Sanlu laughed along.

Dr. Zhou suddenly reached out and switched off the recorder, lowering his voice, “Can you tell me where those came from? I’m just curious.”

Zhang Sanlu also leaned forward, lowering his voice, “Dr. Zhou, I only found out about them because Nurse Liu discovered them when I woke up. If not for her, I wouldn’t have even known they existed.”

Dr. Zhou took a deep breath, leaning back against his armchair, a thoughtful and slightly dissatisfied look in his eyes.

A moment ago, Zhang Sanlu wanted to ask, “Can you keep this confidential?” and if Dr. Zhou agreed, he would have replied, “Then so can I!” But with his current situation, there was no point in being clever and risking offense. Besides, he couldn’t be sure Dr. Zhou had any ill intentions; perhaps it was just his paranoia acting up again.

After a moment, Dr. Zhou smiled and said, “Let’s end here for today. Get some rest. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thank you, Dr. Zhou.”

Zhang Sanlu stood and left, closing the door behind him, separating himself from Dr. Zhou with a single door.

At the distant nurse’s station, a young nurse was scribbling something when she nudged Nurse Liu beside her. Nurse Liu looked up, saw Zhang Sanlu coming out, glared at the younger nurse, and walked over.

Nurse Liu’s hair was neatly tied at the back of her head, revealing a smooth forehead and delicate features. Her complexion was not especially fair, but it glowed with a healthy flush, giving her a warm and approachable air. She wore a crisp nurse’s uniform with a small red cross pin on her collar, looking both professional and caring.

“All done with your consultation?”

“Yes, it’s finished.”

“Dr. Zhou is a good man. This kind of session actually comes with an extra fee, but he signed off to waive it.”

“I agree, he’s a good person. I shouldn’t bother him again—if you see him during your shift, thank him for me.”

“You’re quite something. And what am I to you, that I should thank him on your behalf?” Nurse Liu wrinkled her nose in mock annoyance.

“Then let me thank you first, haha.”