DF Chapter 17
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Zhen Yi recalled the first time she saw Wu Zhe, noticing the scars on his neck and wrists from being tied up. Back then, she had a subtle feeling that the wounds on his heart were likely deeper and more painful than Tang Shang’s.
Could he commit murder in his current state? If he could, would he be conscious while doing it? And could he come and go freely?
Her thoughts were a mess until Wu Zhe’s tired voice broke through. “Lawyer Zhen, I’m so exhausted.”
“What?”
“I ran too long today. I’m tired.”
“Ran?”
“Xiao Shang jumped from the building, and I ran to the window to catch her. I’m tired from running.”
“Did you catch her?” Zhen Yi didn’t know if what he was saying was real or just his imagination, so she played along.
“Not yet. She jumped from the 50th floor, and I ran to the window on the 49th floor but didn’t catch her. So, she jumped again.”
“Jumped again?”
“Yeah, every time she jumps, I quickly run to catch her. Each time, I end up one floor lower than the last. Last week, I reached the window on the 31st floor, but I still missed her fingertips. Lately, I’ve been stuck on the 31st floor. I can’t seem to get past it.”
As he spoke, he grew anxious, his hands starting to fidget uncontrollably on the drawing board. “I can’t get past the 31st floor. What should I do?”
“How do you know it’s the 31st floor?”
“There’s a floor number next to the fire hydrant.”
“But if you’re running to the window, how can you see the floor number behind the fire hydrant?”
“A mirror.”
“What?”
“There’s a mirror beside the window in the stairwell. I saw the empty wall, the doorway, and the black number reflected in the mirror.”
Zhen Yi felt a chill down her spine. She had no idea what Wu Zhe’s hallucinations represented.
“Lawyer Zhen, are you here to take me away?” His thoughts suddenly jumped, and he grew tense.
“I…”
“The people here are all trying to harm me. They keep giving me medicine, trying to poison me.”
“And you…”
“Of course, I didn’t take it.” He quickly interrupted, looking around cautiously. Seeing no one, he pulled out a handful of pills from his waistband and shoved them into Zhen Yi’s hand. “The nurse will check on me soon. You hide these for me.”
Zhen Yi had no choice but to take the pills and put them away.
“But I don’t talk. If I don’t talk, they can’t see me.” Wu Zhe said, “You should leave now too.”
Zhen Yi couldn’t understand, wanting to ask more questions, but Wu Zhe withdrew his gaze, as if she no longer existed. He then hugged his drawing and slowly returned to his room.
Did Wu Zhe think she was just part of his imagination during that conversation? This thought made Zhen Yi’s scalp tingle.
She followed Wu Zhe and watched him enter his room. Then she found the nurse on duty in the hallway and asked, “Are you the one taking care of the patients here?”
“Yes.”
“How’s Wu Zhe doing?”
“I think he’s doing fine. He doesn’t talk or cause any trouble. We like well-behaved patients the most.”
Hearing this made Zhen Yi a bit uncomfortable, but she didn’t mind. After all, people naturally want their work to go smoothly, and the well-being of others often becomes secondary to their own convenience.
“Are the patients’ rooms locked?”
“It depends on their condition.”
Zhen Yi didn’t ask any further questions. There were too many patients and not enough nurses. If one went missing, would the nurse even notice?
She kept walking while thinking, only to realize a little later that she had taken a wrong turn. In front of her was a closed floor-to-ceiling glass door. Just as she was about to turn back, she saw Yan Ge.
Beyond the door was another smaller hall, clean and minimalist.
Yan Ge sat face-to-face with a man, both dressed in white—one in a doctor’s coat, the other in a patient’s gown.
Zhen Yi could only see the man’s side profile, but his sharp features suggested he was handsome.
Liking good-looking people was a perfectly reasonable excuse, and once again, Zhen Yi found herself unable to move, curiosity taking over as she continued to observe.
The two seemed to be having a conversation. Yan Ge remained calm and composed, while the man had a relaxed smile on his lips, looking entirely at ease.
Instinctively, Zhen Yi lightly pushed the glass door. It was locked.
She was puzzled. What could Yan Ge have to talk about with a psychiatric patient that required such serious expressions? She thought about how indifferent Yan Ge always was toward her, practically treating her like a piece of talking air.
Zhen Yi felt a twinge of dissatisfaction and suddenly had a wild thought—could it be that it wasn’t her fault, but that the issue was… her gender?
Yan Ge sat there, fingers interlocked and resting on the table. Across from him, Li You mirrored his posture, hands clasped on the table as well, almost as if they were reflections of each other.
“Dr. Xu said you had something to tell me.” Yan Ge said.
“I’ve made some progress in my research on mental states recently. But they won’t understand.” Li You responded with a faint, mocking smile. His face was sharply defined, especially his eyes—dark and deep.
“Do you think I’d want to hear it?” Yan Ge asked.
Li You smiled again. “Of course.”
“Then I’ll try to listen.”
“Yan Ge, time is still. It’s people who move.”
“What makes you say that?”
“There’s no real concept of time. It’s something humans created. Saying time doesn’t exist isn’t that hard to understand, right?”
“Hmm.”
“As for people, as long as they’re alive, they’re always in motion—going from home to the subway station, from the subway to the company, from the company to a restaurant. They’re constantly moving. If a camera continuously filmed someone, what would happen if you stitched all those photos together?”
Yan Ge fully understood what Li You was saying. “The person’s figure would be present in every place they had been, like…”
“Like a river.” Li You smirked. “They are a flowing river, and everyone is like that. Intersecting, interacting.”
“And how does this help your theory of mental space?” Yan Ge asked.