Outside the door, Huang Xin stopped, panting.
He was about to rush inside when he heard Nan Zhubin’s voice coming from within.
The voice carried a hint of teasing, a touch of gentleness, a trace of sharp pain, and a deliberately created sense of ease.
What it lacked was tension and urgency.
"Is this... settled down and engaged in conversation?"
Huang Xin shivered, quickly halting his steps, and the tremendous inertia almost toppled him.
Then he swiftly took two steps backward, turned around, and while he focused his ears on judging the situation inside the room, he also paid attention to the corridor.
Now, not only could he not go in, but no one else could either!
Nan Zhubin was speaking, attempting to move a little closer to Li Minglu on the sofa.
At this moment, Li Minglu’s eyes were staring straight at Nan Zhubin, without any reaction.
This disregard for a sense of distance made Nan Zhubin hesitate to move or probe further.
He wished Li Minglu would react a bit, even shouting "don’t come any closer" or something.
But fortunately, his attention was already attracted, making it barely possible to engage with Li Minglu.
"Then let’s move on to the second step."
"Create identification and respect!"
Identify with what? Respect what?
Nan Zhubin’s voice was slow and steady: "You know, when I used to face those visitors, I would always have the same feeling."
Nan Zhubin locked eyes with Li Minglu, directly meeting their gaze.
"I felt very distressed."
Nan Zhubin’s gaze was full of emotion: "Because I, too, had experienced similar distress, though not as severe as theirs, nor as severe as yours. But back then, I could barely bear it, and I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you."
"So I feel very distressed."
Nan Zhubin still avoided all sensitive words, his voice was light and gentle, like the wind.
"I don’t think I’ve ever told you why I decided to study psychology?"
He directed a question to Li Minglu, and then continued to explain: "Actually, during high school, due to academic and environmental issues, there was a period when I felt particularly... distressed."
Nan Zhubin narrated an experience, adding details: "At that time, I studied till 11:30 every night, but couldn’t fall asleep until two or three in the morning. When I couldn’t sleep, all sorts of thoughts filled my mind—about the grades I couldn’t improve despite trying hard, the girl I liked who didn’t like me back, and classmates who always made fun of me."
As he spoke, Nan Zhubin patted his own face as if mocking himself.
"That’s right, this face encounters many problems too."
"Until one day, I started using a utility knife—because we had to open sealed exam papers during mock exams, so everyone had one—anyway, I took that knife and made several cuts on my wrist."
Nan Zhubin rolled up his sleeve and showed Li Minglu: "See, right here."
As Nan Zhubin waved his wrist, Li Minglu’s eyes followed, but due to the distance, couldn’t see clearly.
"Later, during a mental health survey at school, I answered a questionnaire and got a ’mild’ result, which led me to contact our college’s psychology teacher. During that process, I became interested in psychology, and that’s why I ultimately chose this major."
The latter half of this sentence wasn’t important; it was merely background necessary for the story.
What mattered was the word ’mild’ in the first half and all the details used to elaborate on it.
The so-called ’identification’—was identification with identity!
"And I was ’mild’ at the time, yet it felt extremely painful, and I also—" Nan Zhubin demonstrated his wrist again, "—did this."
Li Minglu’s eyes moved once again.
"So when I face you and those past visitors, I always feel like... I can understand some of your feelings, but at the same time... I can hardly imagine how the same feelings would overwhelm me."
As he spoke, Nan Zhubin spread his hands, vaguely outlining the current situation.
"Perhaps if it were me, my choices and reactions would be just like yours, like theirs."
Besides "identification," there’s also "respect."
And this "respect"—is respect for the action!
Even if that action is self-harm or suicide!
The purpose of all this, actually, is similar to during counseling. It’s about attracting the visitor’s attention, building rapport, and setting the stage for what’s to come.
Of course, compared to in-office counseling, Nan Zhubin’s language at this moment was noticeably more aggressive, more expansive.
But—as long as it works!
Li Minglu lowered his eyes.
Originally, he and Nan Zhubin were maintaining eye contact.
At first glance, this reaction didn’t seem like a good sign, but inside, Nan Zhubin couldn’t help but start cheering.
Nan Zhubin let out a deep breath.
A major characteristic of depression is "dullness."
Decreased sensitivity, slower reaction times; these are just the basics.
In some ways, they’re even a bit like "cognitive machines"—the brain gives an order, sets a goal, then stops thinking, while the body only relies on instinct to execute it.
Just like a robot with a "move forward" command, even if it’s tripped and parts are damaged, it would still ignorantly get back up and persistently continue toward its preset goal.
And Nan Zhubin’s words just now appropriately activated Li Minglu’s now high-threshold brain.
Pulled Li Minglu out of a human-machine state, injecting a new program into the brain that only had the command of "suicide," making it start to think.
Now, comes the most crucial step.
Suicidal individuals usually fall into two categories.
One type develops abnormal desires.
—Such as the desire for relief from pain, avoidance, seeking attention from others, or simply curiosity about death itself.
The other type lacks any desires.
—Utter indifference, maintaining an attitude of "living is fine, dying is okay," and, after some "rational" consideration, ultimately tipping the scales slightly toward "death," thus choosing suicide.
If it’s the first type, then activate a greater desire to overwrite the original wrong desire;
If it’s the second type, then attempt to instill some desire, like nourishing a dry land with water, allowing it to bloom with even a tiny bit of vitality.
Fortunately, Nan Zhubin now possesses a decisive power, capable of playing a role at this moment.
"Emotional Infection"
And it is at a level of "+5."