Life is gradually taking on a sense of promise.

On the hospital bed sat a young girl with bright, lively eyes, her delicate face intent as she studied the blue-and-white striped gown she wore. Suddenly, as if she had discovered something astonishing, her gaze snapped to Chen Sheng, who sat nearby flipping through a medical file.

Chen Sheng set down the file, pushed up his black-rimmed glasses, and asked, “What is it now?”

The girl pointed to her abdomen. “Something’s not right. My golden core has already been removed, and I’ve recovered well. So why can’t I be discharged?”

Chen Sheng turned his face toward her, expressionless, and glanced at her. “What I removed from you was called a stone, not a golden core. And let me tell you, even if it were a golden core—or, heaven forbid, a nascent soul—if you had one of those, I’d be responsible for finding you the right specialist and then reporting it to the police.”

“Why?” The girl’s face instantly filled with alarm, like a startled fawn, and she hugged her arms to her chest. “Why are you treating me this way? What did I do wrong?”

Chen Sheng was tempted to retort, “Please, don’t overact,” but, recalling the many complaints lodged against him, he reined himself in and said, “Because this is a psychiatric hospital.”

The girl tilted her head in confusion. “Huh?”

Expressionless, Chen Sheng looked at her again, then extended his hand. “Hello. I am your attending physician, Chen Sheng.”

The girl blinked her large eyes, rested her chin in her palm, and wondered aloud, “I know you. We’ve known each other for years. Old Chen, you’re perfectly fine, so why are you introducing yourself again?”

“I noticed you’d forgotten where you are, so I was worried you might have forgotten who I am, too. That’s why I’m introducing myself again.” Chen Sheng lied without blinking an eye.

He was simply exasperated by her.

He’d heard before entering the profession that this line of work was stressful, but he’d never imagined that being a psychiatrist would have him nearly bald before the age of thirty.

When he first joined the hospital, everyone called him Young Chen. Now… well, now it was just Old Chen.

Looking at the girl, he felt he ought to thank her for at least not driving him to become her fellow patient.

The recent troubles weighed heavily on him. He’d once heard tales of a notorious figure in the psychiatric hospital who had cut out his own kidney and grilled it for food, causing such a stir that the provincial authorities got involved. Many feared the hospital was engaged in illegal organ trafficking, and the police had visited more than a dozen times!

Yet he hadn’t expected that this girl—well, she was nowhere near as extreme as that person, nor did she possess the capacity to perform surgery on herself. Still, the chaos she stirred up was, for Chen Sheng, no less troublesome than a major medical accident.

After all, she had managed to make the dean’s only daughter fall deeply, passionately in love with a perfectly ordinary psychiatric patient.

Yes, the mad, all-consuming sort of love.

Just like in a television drama.

As the mere matchmaker in this scenario, the girl herself had no trouble. But Chen Sheng certainly did.

Major trouble.

Not only from the dean, but even his colleagues had started to look at him differently. Several times, they’d invited him out for meals—especially his bald supervisor, who was anything but subtle, outright suggesting that the patient girl should help introduce him to someone as well.

Chen Sheng was at his wit’s end.

After so many years single, hadn’t he already gotten used to it? If he did find someone, it would probably feel even stranger. Was all this really necessary?

Besides, the dean didn’t have that many daughters—just the one, as far as he recalled.

“Old Chen, I’ve heard you’ve been having a rough time lately!” the girl suddenly leaned in, her face full of mystery.

Chen Sheng’s lips twitched.

And whose fault did he have to thank for his recent troubles?

Shameless.

“Don’t look so glum! You know, in life, disappointments outnumber satisfactions ten to one. Highs and lows—well, mostly lows—are to be expected!” The girl patted his shoulder with her small hand, trying to comfort him.

Chen Sheng: Give me a break!

Her comfort was the last thing he wanted.

“Old Chen, don’t keep that stern face all the time. You know, it doesn’t make you look authoritative—just dull…”

Expressionless, Chen Sheng glanced at her.

She seemed not to notice, her little mouth still chattering away: “Old Chen, I know you’re under a lot of stress, but everyone’s stressed these days. Just look at all the escalating conflicts in society…”

Chen Sheng’s lips twitched.

No one could ramble like her!

Seeing his obvious skepticism, the girl grew indignant, tilting her face up to him. “Old Chen, then what do you think is at the root of all these growing societal tensions?”

Chen Sheng rolled his eyes. “Isn’t it just the conflict between people’s ever-rising intelligence and the ever-falling morality of officials?”

The girl was momentarily stunned. She stared at Chen Sheng for a while, then patted his shoulder. “Old Chen, you’re getting more and more like a political prisoner every day!”

“What’s it got to do with me? That was something a famous writer said. I’m just a foolish believer,” Chen Sheng replied calmly.

The girl gave him a thumbs up.

He was indeed the Old Chen she knew!

Then, reaching behind her, she produced a sizeable, flat, square box and handed it over to Chen Sheng.

He glanced at it, momentarily surprised.

It looked very familiar.

His sister had practically begged him on her knees to buy her one not long ago, and this was exactly it.

Chen Sheng remembered—it was a healing game, hailed as a savior of domestic games, wildly popular from the moment it launched. Even his bald supervisor had gone out of his way to buy it, singing its praises and declaring that every word online was true—it was money well spent!

“For me?”

“That’s right. The purchase code for this was nearly impossible to get. I had to call in a huge favor to get my hands on it!” The girl’s little face beamed, clearly waiting to be praised.

Chen Sheng looked at her, tempted to mention that when he’d bought one for his sister, it must have been early on, since he hadn’t had to wait in line, let alone worry about a purchase code. But then he reconsidered—after all, this was a kind gesture, and besides, he’d already let his sister use his ID to log into the game, so even if he bought another, he couldn’t play it himself.

So, Chen Sheng thanked her politely and accepted the gift.

The reputation of this healing game was well-deserved; it was considered a work ahead of its time. Naturally, he was curious to try it. And he figured he’d take it as compensation for all the trouble she’d caused him.

“Old Chen, when can I be discharged?” the girl asked suddenly.

Chen Sheng thought for a moment, then replied deliberately, “Originally, you could have left next week. But you can’t even remember where you are…”

“What’s memory loss got to do with mental illness?” she retorted indignantly.

“Then you can be discharged next week!” Chen Sheng smiled at her, ending the teasing. After all, being able to cure someone is always something to be happy about, especially for a doctor like him.