Charles followed Schiller to the patient's room. Apparently, the previous round of doctors had just finished their rounds. Charles looked down at his watch; theoretically, this should have been the last round of the day.
A pale, haggard woman lay asleep on the bed with her hands atop the blanket. Schiller stood at the door and beckoned to the husband sitting by the bedside. The husband quickly rose and approached Schiller, looking somewhat at a loss.
"Mr. Oakes?"
"Yes, just call me Oakes. Thank you, Doctor. I heard you were the one who allowed me into the ward."
"Under normal circumstances, family members are not permitted to stay with patients after an abnormal delivery," Schiller emphasized. "But I belong to the emergency psychological intervention system and am responsible only for the patient's emotional state. I believe your presence benefits the pregnant woman's emotions, so naturally, I allowed you in."
The tall man nodded so rapidly his head left afterimages. "Over all these years, Lisa and I have never argued. She always says I'm annoying, but our relationship is very good."
He seemed nervous. Some thoughts echoed through Charles's mind: The Doctor must be here to scold me. Did I fail to take care of Lisa? Guilt. Thank God Lisa is all right. I have to remember to buy some milk before she wakes up. The insurance company is coming tomorrow morning...
For as long as Charles could remember, these chaotic thoughts had always poured into his mind. Some were exceptionally disordered, and it had taken him a long time to learn how to actively use this ability and pick out the most useful information.
Digging deeper, Charles saw the man's past. It was utterly ordinary and uneventful: he had graduated from vocational school, become an electrician, married his wife, and