Chapter 88

Chapter 88: Saving the World, On Pause

Lin Jianyuan walked into the familiar waiting area, carrying the banner in his hand.

He never realized just how big these banners were. Even rolled up, it was over a meter long and hard to miss.

Lin Jianyuan wandered around the general clinic waiting area but didn’t spot Dr. Cen.

That made him pause. Had he gotten Dr. Cen’s schedule wrong?

He pulled out his phone and checked his previous appointment records.

No, he had it right. Dr. Cen’s clinic hours were Tuesday mornings and Wednesday afternoons.

Lin Jianyuan went over to the reception desk. “Hi, I’m looking for Dr. Cen. Is he seeing patients today?”

The nurse replied, “Dr. Cen?”

A sudden, irrational panic gripped Lin Jianyuan. What if she said, “We’ve never had a Dr. Cen here”?

Thankfully, Lin Jianyuan wasn’t actually crazy.

Sure enough, after a moment, the nurse said, “Oh, Dr. Cen Zheng? He’s at the specialist clinic today. Over there.”

She pointed him in the right direction.

Lin Jianyuan had assumed Dr. Cen was just helping out at the specialist clinic for the day.

But when he got there, he saw a sign by the door:

[Associate Chief Physician Cen Zheng]

A sense of occasion hit Lin Jianyuan all at once.

The exam room was empty. Lin Jianyuan knocked, then exclaimed, “Dr. Cen, you got promoted! Congratulations!”

Dr. Cen looked up and, seeing who it was, broke into a delighted smile.

“Hey, you made it! I was just about to message you that I changed offices. Thought you might not find me.”

Dr. Cen waved his phone.

The screen was still on WeChat, with Lin Jianyuan’s name at the top of his chat list.

A wave of warmth swept through Lin Jianyuan.

Lin Jianyuan handed over the banner. Dr. Cen was thrilled and called in the nurse to take a photo of the two of them with it.

Lin Jianyuan asked curiously, “Dr. Cen, do you get a bonus for these banners?”

Dr. Cen said, “No.”

Lin Jianyuan blinked. “Huh? So it’s just for nothing?”

Dr. Cen replied, “Not exactly. At the year-end review, it adds half a point to my score.”

Lin Jianyuan nodded. “Oh, so does that half-point turn into a bonus?”

Dr. Cen shook his head. “No. Half a point is just half a point.”

Lin Jianyuan stared. “What?”

Dr. Cen explained, “Each banner or thank-you letter adds half a point. You can get up to two points total.”

Lin Jianyuan said, “So if you get the full two points, do you get a bonus then?”

Dr. Cen replied, “Still no. Two points is just two points.”

Lin Jianyuan frowned. “So the annual review is just… a review?”

Dr. Cen said, “No. If your score is too low, they dock your pay.”

Lin Jianyuan was speechless. Hospital stuff really was beyond him.

Still, Dr. Cen looked genuinely happy to get the banner. It meant his patient appreciated him.

Dr. Cen asked how Lin Jianyuan had been. That reminded Lin Jianyuan why he’d come in the first place.

—To pretend he was still mentally ill.

He wasn’t faking it for sick notes anymore, but because he’d realized that, working at the Bureau, having a mental illness on record was surprisingly useful.

From now on, he’d carry his diagnosis everywhere. That way, even if he started throwing punches at thin air, no one would suspect the existence of Aberrants.

At worst, some concerned bystander would haul him off to the psych ward.

No problem. He had friends at 700 Jiangchuan North Road anyway.

As usual, Lin Jianyuan rattled off his “symptoms” to Dr. Cen:

First, he was irritable and quick to anger—he’d even take a couple swings at random plants along the way. (He’d stolen that one from Shi Shaoning.)

Second, he was still seeing bizarre hallucinations. Like Lego that could turn people into statues, or bronze men who’d send you flying if you got too close.

He even wore his bronze tag outside his shirt on purpose, making it easy for Dr. Cen to “connect the dots” and buy his story.

“And I haven’t been taking my meds regularly,” Lin Jianyuan added, piling on the details. “The two-week prescription you gave me? I’ve stretched it out for almost a month and still haven’t finished. But don’t worry, Dr. Cen. You care so much about me, I’ll make sure to take better care of myself. I won’t let you down. I promise I’ll take my meds from now on.”

Dr. Cen: “…”

Dr. Cen’s fingers paused on the keyboard.

He looked Lin Jianyuan up and down, eyes sharp behind his glasses.

Lin Jianyuan suddenly had a bad feeling.

He asked, cautiously, “What’s wrong?”

Dr. Cen, face unreadable, pulled a stack of papers from the drawer.

He said gently, “Let’s do this questionnaire again. You’ve done it before, so let’s treat this as a follow-up.”

Lin Jianyuan’s heart skipped a beat.

Still, he took the papers and started filling them out, trying to look serious.

He remembered this form—he’d done it on his first visit.

He tried to recall how he’d felt back then, and imagined how a real mental patient would answer.

After a long while, he finished.

He let out a secret sigh of relief.

He never expected Dr. Cen, taking the form, to remark offhandedly,

“You’re a lot more patient than you used to be.”

Lin Jianyuan: “?”

Crap.

How could he forget!

The first time he’d seen all those dense questions, he’d gotten annoyed right away.

He’d asked if he could skip it. Couldn’t he just get the meds?

…Crap.

He’d spent so long pretending to be normal, he’d forgotten how to act crazy.

Lin Jianyuan tried to play it cool. “Yeah, maybe I’m just happier lately, so I’m more at ease.”

Dr. Cen smiled, looking up at him.

“So isn’t that a good thing? Then why do you still need medication?”

Lin Jianyuan: “!”

Dr. Cen said, “Remember what I told you at the beginning? Your case was always an acute, brief episode. There’s a very good chance you’ll recover completely.”

Lin Jianyuan: “…”

Dr. Cen continued, “You used to worry you’d never get better, but congratulations—you’re pretty much recovered. You’ve already tapered off your meds on your own, and you’re stable. I think you can stop taking them now. After all, medicine has its side effects. You’re doing great. Congratulations!”

Lin Jianyuan: “………………”

The corner of Lin Jianyuan’s mouth twitched.

Dr. Cen caught the subtle reaction and teased, “What’s wrong? Not happy you’re not a mental patient anymore?”

Lin Jianyuan flinched. Damn! Were all psychiatrists experts at reading micro-expressions?

He was pretty sure Dr. Cen had seen right through his act.

Lin Jianyuan hesitated. “Dr. Cen, I…”

But after a second, he let it go.

Forget it.

No point pitting his amateur acting against a professional.

Lin Jianyuan smiled, relaxed, and said gratefully, “Alright. Thank you, doctor!”

Dr. Cen: “You’re welcome.”

Lin Jianyuan said, “I really appreciate everything you did for me. You helped me so much when I was at my lowest.”

He stood and gave Dr. Cen a deep, heartfelt bow.

Then he said a formal goodbye and walked out of the office.

“……”

Cen Zheng watched Lin Jianyuan’s back as he left, then turned away.

He looked back at his computer and continued updating the patient records.

He’d misjudged him.

Cen Zheng had to admit, he’d probably misread Lin Jianyuan all along.

But… something still didn’t add up.

Cen Zheng scratched his head.

If Lin Jianyuan had been faking it this whole time, why had he been so convincing before, and now suddenly so bad at it?

And if he’d really been sick, why keep pretending after he’d recovered?

After all, he’d only come to deliver a banner—he hadn’t asked for medication, a sick note, or a diagnosis.

So what was he after?

Seriously, what the hell was going on?

Why did he seem crazy one moment, normal the next? Sick, then not sick?

For the first time since his promotion, Associate Chief Physician Cen Zheng started doubting his own professional judgment.

He was about to pull up Lin Jianyuan’s initial records for another look when he noticed an envelope on the chair where Lin Jianyuan had been sitting.

Lin Jianyuan had left him an envelope!

Holy shit!

Cen Zheng shot to his feet!

He grabbed the envelope and dashed out, like he was holding a hot potato, feet flying as if the floor was on fire.

“Lin Jianyuan! Lin Jianyuan!”

Cen Zheng tore through the hallway.

He looked outside—thank God! Lin Jianyuan hadn’t gone far.

Lin Jianyuan was on the phone. Cen Zheng stepped up, ready to hand back the envelope, when he heard Lin Jianyuan say into the phone, in a soft, playful voice: “Babe, babe, I finished my appointment. Hahaha, you were right—it only took me two minutes, and Dr. Cen saw right through me. Totally called me out for faking it~ haha.”

Cen Zheng: “?”

His hand froze in midair.

People bustled through the waiting area, but Cen Zheng felt his scalp tingle and his mind race.

Lin Jianyuan hadn’t noticed him at all, still sweet-talking into his phone.

“What can I do? I’m no actor. And I get nervous in front of doctors! …No rush, I’ve got something to take care of. You go ahead… Okay. Miss you too, baby. Hehe. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home~”

Cen Zheng: “………………”

Suddenly, Cen Zheng remembered something Lin Jianyuan had said during his hospital stay.

That wild theory about “a bunch of condoms”…

—Wait, could this “wife” be that imaginary roommate from before?!

That “digestive system”?!

Was it the imaginary roommate who’d taught Lin Jianyuan to act, tricking him into misdiagnosing, so Lin Jianyuan would never need meds again?!

Cen Zheng: “!!!”

Just then, Lin Jianyuan suddenly turned around.

They nearly bumped into each other.

Lin Jianyuan: “?”

Cen Zheng: “.”

Lin Jianyuan saw it was Dr. Cen and looked surprised. “Dr. Cen, what’s up?”

Cen Zheng quickly stuffed the envelope into Lin Jianyuan’s pocket and said, “Lin Jianyuan, I have something else to ask you. Come back with me for a minute.”

Lin Jianyuan: “?”

He didn’t really get the details.

But Lin Jianyuan ended up with a fresh diagnosis and another round of meds.

Perfect.

He was officially certified to work as a “mental patient” again.

Today, Lin Jianyuan had two reasons for coming to 700 Jiangchuan North Road: deliver the banner to Dr. Cen, and meet the Bureau’s long-term stationed agent here.

This agent was also from the field team, a B-rank combatant.

Unlike Lin Jianyuan, he was a full-time, long-term posting. The work and benefits were different, but Lin Jianyuan hadn’t asked for details.

Supposedly, it was a pretty cushy gig.

He even did research in his downtime.

Yes, the field team could do research too.

And this guy’s project was perfectly tailored to his surroundings: “On the Effects of Common Psychiatric Medications on Mental Resistance.”

Which happened to be exactly what Lin Jianyuan cared about right now.

So he used his mobile terminal to contact this agent, Wang Fu.

A few minutes later.

Lin Jianyuan: “.”

Calligraphy Uncle: “.”

Lin Jianyuan’s mouth twitched. “Small world, huh.”

Calligraphy Uncle laughed. “What a coincidence.”

Wang Fu, who to outsiders looked like a long-term mental patient.

In reality, he was a mid-level, full-time field agent who did research on the side.

With a proper government post, no less.

This world really was absurd.

Lin Jianyuan had no idea how the Bureau pulled it off, but Wang Fu had lived here for years as a “mild case.”

His “condition” was so mild, he could do whatever he wanted.

He was friendly and generous, so he got along with all the doctors and nurses.

After a while, the ward even gave him his own activity room—so he could pursue his hobby: calligraphy.

“No wonder I always heard you were hiding out doing calligraphy,” Lin Jianyuan recalled his last stay, realization dawning. “You were secretly doing research! Man, you’re dedicated!”

Wang Fu: “.”

Wang Fu paused, a faintly awkward smile on his lips.

And a hint of satisfaction.

“No, no,” Wang Fu waved it off. “Just doing my job.”

The inpatient and outpatient buildings were separate, with a maze of security doors in between.

Wang Fu pulled out his access card and led Lin Jianyuan smoothly into the ward, heading for his usual hideout.

—This was the building where Lin Jianyuan and his roommate had first kissed, first embraced. The place where they’d fallen in love.

Looking around, Lin Jianyuan felt a gentle, indescribable warmth.

He was lost in nostalgia when Wang Fu, leading the way, said,

“Hey, remember Xiao Liu, the guy who was in our ward last time? He got discharged not long after you did.”

Lin Jianyuan thought back. “Oh, right, Xiao Liu. How’s he doing?”

So much had happened since he’d left the hospital, he hadn’t kept in touch with Xiao Liu.

So Xiao Liu had been discharged too. He wondered if that red-haired guy had ever come back to bother him.

He remembered telling Xiao Liu before he left: if you need help, just ask.

Since Xiao Liu hadn’t reached out, things must have been okay.

But Wang Fu said, “He went back to school for a while after discharge. Then a couple days ago, he got readmitted.”

Lin Jianyuan tensed. He frowned. “Why?”

Did that red-haired bastard mess with Xiao Liu again?

Wang Fu: “Because he slept with Red Hair.”

Lin Jianyuan: “?”

???

What?

Xiao Liu slept with who?

Who slept with Red Hair?

What did Xiao Liu do to Red Hair?!

Xiao Liu—slept with Red Hair???

Xiao Liu. Slept. With Red Hair?!!!

“Where’s Xiao Liu? Take me to him, now.”

Lin Jianyuan’s words came out in a rush.

Saving the world could wait.

He had to get the gossip first!