Meng Lan’s eyes were filled with admiration for Mo Lin. She tried to find topics to chat about, and the two of them engaged in casual conversation. Although Mo Lin had unfinished work in his hands, he maintained a friendly demeanor, always wearing a smile, making it seem like he was in a good mood.

Suddenly, someone dragged a chair between them, forcefully squeezing out a seat for himself.

Wang Yue squeezed in between them with a cheeky grin, “Teacher Mo, Meng Lan, what are you two chatting about so enthusiastically? Share with me too…”

Meng Lan instantly lost the desire to talk, made a speechless expression, and returned to her seat.

Wang Yue achieved his goal, so he cleared his throat, “Teacher Mo, I’ll take my leave too.”

“Do you like her?”

Mo Lin asked while writing, his pen strokes powerful and deep, carving into the A4 paper like a knife.

The butt that just left the chair sat back down, “Teacher Mo, you noticed, huh? How embarrassing!”

Mo Lin finished the last word, closed his pen, and raised an eyebrow with a smile, “It’s hard not to notice.”

Wang Yue was taken aback, “Was I that obvious?”

Mo Lin replied, “Actually, not really. It’s mainly because I have a professional habit.”

Wang Yue thought it made sense. Teacher Mo is a criminal psychology expert, able to figure out even criminals’ thoughts, let alone his.

“Can you keep it a secret for now… I haven’t planned to tell her yet.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. If you need, I can also offer some help.”

“Great, that puts my mind at ease.”

Since Teacher Mo offered to help, Wang Yue didn’t have to worry about Meng Lan being taken away from him.

“Teacher Mo,” Wang Yue still felt a bit awkward, “After this case is over, can we have a meal together?”

“You want to ask Meng Lan out?”

Mo Lin had already seen through his thoughts and decided to be straightforward.

Wang Yue nodded with a cheeky grin, “If you’re there, she’ll definitely come.”

“Sure,” Mo Lin said, “I happen to want to invite someone too.”

“Great, everyone together. Who do you want to invite, Teacher Mo?”

Mo Lin’s gaze fell on Gu Yuan, “Him.”

“If it’s Doctor Gu… it might be a bit difficult. He didn’t come to the last two gatherings.”

“It’s a bit tough… so you guys help me think of a way.” After all, you only have one birthday a year, and he already used it to invite him to the seaside last time.

“Don’t worry, Teacher Mo, there’s strength in numbers. We’ll definitely help you get Gu Yuan out!”

While the two were having a lively conversation, Gu Yuan, sitting in the corner, suddenly sneezed. He grabbed a tissue to wipe his nose and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already time to get off work.

His scheduled psychological consultation was at 7 PM. He planned to have a meal first, so the timing would be just right.

Originally, he didn’t want to see a psychologist again, but today’s events were too unusual for him. The uncertainty of his emotional fluctuations was causing him great distress. After much thought, he decided to see a psychologist. Maybe they could find out what the problem was.

Lin Yin Road, No. 99, 19th Floor.

Gu Yuan registered his name at the front desk and sat on the sofa, flipping through Dr. Zhou’s personal profile. The resume was quite impressive, with the list of positions alone taking up half a page.

Gu Yuan skipped those parts. The last section of the first page was highlighted in bold: In-depth research on emotional deficiency personality disorder.

Gu Yuan didn’t know how “in-depth” this research really was.

This Dr. Zhou was introduced by his friend Wen Zihan, who was far away in America. Gu Yuan didn’t have many friends, and Wen Zihan was probably the only one who understood him.

Soon it was Gu Yuan’s turn. He pushed open the door and entered. The room was warmly decorated, likely to cater to the psychological needs of the clients. The entire room was spacious, with soundproofing on the white walls to protect privacy.

Under the warm yellow lights were several yellow fabric sofas pieced together, with a white round coffee table in the middle. In the corner of the room were a few small green potted plants. The window was open, providing good ventilation.

Dr. Zhou sat on a single sofa, dressed in casual clothes, looking around fifty, wearing glasses, with sparse hair and a receding hairline.

His expression was very kind, making people feel comfortable. On the coffee table in front of him were two stacks of file folders. At that moment, he was just putting one of the documents into a folder and wrote a series of numbers on the cover: No. 898.

After Gu Yuan entered, he took out a questionnaire, “Hello, Mr. Gu, please have a seat.”

Dr. Zhou handed the questionnaire to him, “To quickly understand your situation, please fill out this form first.”

The questions on it were very familiar to Gu Yuan:

Do you have distressing, painful experiences or memories? Do you suddenly feel like painful experiences are happening again? Do you have distressing and recurring dreams?…… Frequent insomnia, poor interpersonal relationships, often feeling upset……

Gu Yuan finished the questionnaire in just half a minute, showing he was very familiar with it.

Dr. Zhou assessed it and wrote in the diagnosis section: Post-traumatic stress disorder.

Then Dr. Zhou asked a few more questions, which Gu Yuan answered one by one. Dr. Zhou could clearly feel that he was starting to get impatient.

Gathering background information from clients often takes a lot of time. From Gu Yuan’s experience, the first step usually requires more than three consultations. He felt he was wasting time.

“I just want to ask one question.” Gu Yuan interrupted Dr. Zhou.

“What causes a person with post-traumatic stress disorder to suddenly have a brief stress response?”

It was clear that this patient was very knowledgeable, so Dr. Zhou thought for a moment, “It depends on the circumstances. Is it triggered by a person, an event, or……”

“It should be triggered by a person.”

“Just this person, or a type of person?”

“A… special person.”

“Do you feel repulsed by him?”

“No repulsion.”

“Well, in your case, I suggest long-term observation. If you don’t feel repulsed communicating with this person, you might try increasing your interactions… it might lead to improvement.”

Gu Yuan understood. To figure out the cause, long-term observation was needed.

Dr. Zhou noticed that the other party didn’t want to stay there too long, so he handed over his business card, “This is my private number. If you’re busy, you can also schedule online consultations.”

Gu Yuan took the card and put it in his pocket.

After the consultation, Gu Yuan went home, took a shower, and with his laptop, crossed the dark living room to sit on the recliner on the balcony and logged into the depression social network forum.

He entered his expert account, and upon logging in, there were over 30 unread messages in the message bar.

Gu Yuan went through them one by one; they were private messages from depression patients.

Gu Yuan was a free consultant on this forum, but he wasn’t responsible for psychological counseling. Instead, he “talked down” those with suicidal thoughts.

The evaluation from netizens: Sharp language, effective results.

Since they knew the expert was in forensic medicine, people often asked about topics related to the deceased, like: What would happen to the body if you jumped from the 18th floor?

Gu Yuan’s reply: If you land headfirst, your brain matter would spray out in a fan shape, or brain tissue might fall out, facial bones would suffer comminuted fractures, and with a skull base fracture, brain matter might flow out of the nostrils……

The result was scaring the other party into staying alive.

Gu Yuan replied to a few, then noticed an expert account requesting to add him as a friend.

The other party’s username was: Black Soil is Here.

Temporary conversation: Black Soil is Here: [Recently, the forum organized an expert exchange meeting. Are you going to participate?]

Black Soil is Here: [Want to be friends? I’m in psychology.]

Gu Yuan frowned slightly and clicked accept.

Black Soil is Here: [Hello.]

Blank Space: [Not participating.]

Black Soil is Here: [I’m not planning to attend either.]

Gu Yuan didn’t want to continue chatting, so he closed his laptop and prepared to sleep.

Just as he lay down, he received a message.

Mo Lin: [Good night.]

Gu Yuan: ……

*

The next day.

Qiu Yao, sitting in the interrogation room, had stayed up all night. He looked like he had shed a layer of skin, his complexion yellow, lips pale, and eyes bloodshot.

His nerves were still highly tense, and when Li Meng entered the interrogation room, he seemed startled.

It was clear he had been on edge all night and hadn’t slept a wink.

His body’s stress response was almost at its peak, and any slight disturbance could trigger his nerves.

Li Meng dragged a chair, sat across from him, and didn’t intend to speak. He pulled out a stack of photos from a paper bag and laid them out in front of him one by one.

The first was a photo of a wooden ladder, with a close-up of a knife mark on the bottom rung.

The second was of a partially dried water stain on the floor.

The third was of clothes in a wardrobe.

The fourth was of the ceiling.

……

These were all photos of Qiu Yao’s room, each focusing on a specific corner.

There were ten photos in total, the last one being a poster on the bedside table.

Mo Lin had just finished a video conference and switched to another computer, where he was watching a live feed of the interrogation of Qiu Yao.

Mo Lin observed the subtle changes in the boy’s face as he saw the photos and notified Li Meng through a Bluetooth earpiece, “The first, fourth, and tenth photos have issues.”

The criminal police outside the interrogation room immediately contacted the on-site trace inspection team, “Focus on the wooden ladder, ceiling, and poster.”

Yan Ji walked towards the boy’s room, searched the ceiling for a long time, and found nothing unusual.

He moved to the poster by the bed, carefully examining it with a laser instrument, but found nothing special.

He had already checked the wooden ladder many times, only finding Qiu Yao’s blood and some fingerprints on it.

Just as he was about to report back, an idea suddenly flashed in his mind, making him a bit excited.

He slowly peeled off the poster stuck to the wooden wall along its edges, and the scene before him made his hair stand on end!

A bright red bloody handprint appeared on the wooden wall!

How could there be a bloody handprint here?

If he hadn’t had the sudden idea to remove the poster, who knows how long this handprint would have remained hidden!

Yan Ji immediately reported the discovery, then extracted the fingerprints from the handprint and some scrapings from the wall for testing.