It was just one word, "yes."
Huang Xin uttered it as if it had drained all his strength.
At the same time, this word also dismantled all his defenses.
"...That’s right, Zhuren, you’re the scapegoat."
Nan Zhubin looked at Huang Xin’s expression and paused.
"Chen Jie." Nan Zhubin suddenly blurted out a name.
As soon as this name was spoken, Nan Zhubin felt something stirring again inside his body, to the point where he needed Emotion Rebalancing to calm himself down.
Huang Xin, on the other hand, lifted his head in shock, unable to believe that Nan Zhubin would actually say that name aloud.
This name was exactly the same as the failed case Nan Zhubin took on at Jiang University, the name of the depression sufferer who committed suicide due to his "erroneous assessment."
An incident of this magnitude would be enough to give any consultant PTSD, possibly leading to a generalization of fear towards "Psychological Consultation," "people with the surname Chen," or even "all young women," not to mention the risk of ending a career, let alone being haunted for life.
And beyond that, Nan Zhubin was expelled from school after such a calamitous event.
While others have [life events] that compound into [destructive events], in Nan Zhubin’s case, it was the stacking of [destructive events]. Even in Lin Lulin’s long career, clients with experiences so severe are rare.
Practically unheard of for graduate students like Huang Xin.
Consequently, within Huang Xin’s research group, it was an assumed fact that "Nan Zhubin was utterly destroyed by psychological trauma."
For this reason, when they saw Nan Zhubin return to school to give a lecture as a Psychological Consultant, they were astonished and alarmed to the extreme.
They thought they were either witnessing someone cleverly disguising their psychological issues.
Or they were witnessing a super psychopath whose worldview and mental state deviated vastly from normal.
The events that followed confirmed Huang Xin’s hypothesis.
Nan Zhubin’s behavioral patterns had already deviated far from the standards of a normal Psychological Consultant, or even a normal member of society.
"Chen Jie." In front of Huang Xin, Nan Zhubin reiterated the name.
Though it was supposed to be a name causing trauma to Nan Zhubin, at that moment, Huang Xin was far more alarmed than Nan Zhubin upon hearing it.
"What on earth was wrong with that case that I don’t know about?"
Huang Xin fell silent. He took a deep breath to calm his emotions, not to hide anything, but hoping to relay his account as smoothly as possible.
"Regarding the situation in the case file, I don’t know more than you. After all, you were her consultant, not me."
Huang Xin glanced at Nan Zhubin’s reaction, whose face remained expressionless.
"But outside the consultation, I do know a bit."
Nan Zhubin fixed his eyes intently on every detail of Huang Xin’s face: "Speak."
"Actually, it was only after you left that I learned about these things. Because your departure left a gap in resources originally yours, which the professor couldn’t immediately find replacements for, I was brought in to fill the gap, providing me the conditions to learn."
"You know, the professor owns a psychology clinic outside, but he never lets us approach it; even for internships, he often used connections to place us in other consulting centers, not his own clinic."
Nan Zhubin searched his memory and nodded in acknowledgment.
Huang Xin recalled, "Because the professor’s clinic serves very high-end clients, the requirements for consultants are also high. When I was a first-year graduate student, I once asked the professor if I could join him, and he told me not to think about it before turning thirty."
This senior gave a bitter smile: "But you’re different, Nan Zhubin, you’re different, you have innate talent."
"The professor seemed to have early intentions of grooming you to work at his clinic, and back then, the plan was to have you intern at his clinic, with that visitor as your ’interview.’"
Nan Zhubin interrupted Huang Xin’s tangential recollections noncommittally: "The point of our discussion seems to be the ’problem’ with that case."
Huang Xin compressed his lips, seemingly making a significant decision in his mind.
But he finally spoke: "After you left, the resources you managed were passed on to me, including part of the work the professor originally planned to assign you regarding his private clinic."
"Among them were some transition notes about his clients. According to the records, a few of the clients from the professor’s private clinic had shown improvement and were therefore transferred out to less competent consulting centers; however, most of these clients would quickly deteriorate after external intervention, and have to be transferred back to the professor’s private clinic—only a handful of cases were exceptions."
Huang Xin wore a sincere expression: "Regrettably, Zhuren, your case at the time, Chen Jie, doesn’t seem to be one of those ’exceptions’."
"Right. After your incident, the professor’s clinic seemed to attempt mass transfers of clients to other consulting rooms for experimental purposes; in other words, you exposed a ’certain risk’ to the professor — the risk that clients would deteriorate after leaving the clinic!"
Nan Zhubin leaned back on the sofa, letting the soft backrest engulf his body.
He felt like he was grasping something.
After taking two deep breaths, he pressed on: "So what exactly is the issue causing all of this?"
"I don’t know," Huang Xin shook his head, "I really don’t know. The professor never intended for me to get involved with his clinic’s work; it’s just that your departure gave me this opportunity, but I’m not skilled enough to delve this deeply. Even the documents I handled were without headings or watermarks, and I don’t even know the clinic’s name. I didn’t dare to ask more."
Nan Zhubin watched Huang Xin’s expression, hoping the other was lying.
Unfortunately, he was disappointed; every word and expression from the other aligned perfectly with the "truth" benchmark previously established.
"The new client I took recently, suffering from depression, also came out of the professor’s private clinic?"
Nan Zhubin lowered his head.
Recalling Huang Xin just said [but then most of these clients would quickly deteriorate after receiving external interventions and have to be transferred back to the professor’s private clinic] sentence.
The speculation in his heart subtly materialized.
Suddenly, Nan Zhubin’s eye captured something.
He saw Huang Xin’s reaction.
[Averted gaze, avoiding eye contact with me.]
[Throat swallowing, trying to prevent himself from saying something.]
If this reaction occurred when Nan Zhubin questioned him, it would mean the other was planning to lie.
But if it appeared when Nan Zhubin wasn’t questioning him, then it meant—
"You’re still concealing some crucial information!"
Nan Zhubin suddenly raised his voice: "What is it?!"