Seeing a Doctor

Wu Changkong did as he said.

Early the next morning, an unremarkable black soul-guided sedan stopped beneath the teachers' apartment building. Wu Changkong stood beside it, dressed in white like snow, posture straight, his expression carrying the standard coldness of I said I would do it, so I did. He had already opened the front passenger door for her.

Lu Menge stood at the apartment entrance with a thermos in hand, her amber fox eyes fixed on the open car door. She wore a gray blazer over black trousers today, along with the most understated pair of low-heeled ankle boots she owned—she had specifically traded out her stilettos because she suspected she might have to deal with all sorts of unforeseen situations today. She had spent half the night thinking about how to explain everything to him before he forced her into a consultation room. After rehearsing it over and over, she had reached one conclusion: play it by ear.

"Teacher Wu." She walked up to the car and tilted her head at him. "Do you really think there's something wrong with my mind?"

"Get in." Wu Changkong's voice was steady.

"Answer me first."

Wu Changkong looked at her, then lowered his gaze. "We'll talk after the examination results come out."

Lu Menge took a deep breath and bent down to sit in the front passenger seat. Fighting a Titled Douluo outside the teachers' apartments would get her performance rating docked by Director Long, and besides, she was wearing a newly bought blazer. Wu Changkong shut the door for her, circled around to the driver's seat, and started the car.

A voice suddenly came from the back seat. "Good morning."

Lu Menge turned around. Gu Yue was sitting in the back with a book on her knees, her expression as cool and composed as ever. Her violet eyes met Lu Menge's fox eyes briefly in the rearview mirror. Gu Yue gave a slight nod, then turned another page.

"...Why did he bring you along too?" Lu Menge lowered her voice.

"Teacher Wu came to see me last night. He said he needed my cooperation today, so I agreed." Her eyes remained on the book. Lu Menge stared at that utterly unruffled face in the mirror and squeezed out through clenched teeth, "Just you wait."

Gu Yue quietly turned another page without looking at Lu Menge. She shifted a note tucked between the pages half an inch to the side. On it was the latest draft of the secret message she had written to Di Tian that morning—"Senior Lu has now been personally escorted to psychiatry by a certain Titled Douluo. Accompanying family member: me. Further details of the treatment to follow."

The car drove steadily along East Sea City's main road. Wu Changkong drove as steadily as he did everything else, both hands on the wheel and eyes forward. Only when stopped at red lights did he glance at the passenger seat from the corner of his eye. That glance held complicated things—worry, tension, and a trace of awkward tenderness. Lu Menge opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. Fine. She would talk when they reached the clinic.

The counseling center stood on a quiet street in central East Sea City, a three-story building with cream-white walls and a wooden sign hanging out front that read, "Zhen Hua Psychology Clinic." A ginkgo tree grew in the courtyard, its leaves half yellow, as though it had arranged to change seasons at the same time as the one beside Eastsea Academy's field. When they pushed the door open and entered, the receptionist visibly perked up at the sight of a cold-faced handsome man like Wu Changkong, but her attention was quickly drawn to Lu Menge and Gu Yue behind him.

"Hello. Do you have an appointment?"

"Wu Changkong. I have an appointment with Doctor Zhang."

"Certainly. Third floor, second room on the left—Doctor Zhang is already waiting for you."

Lu Menge noticed how smoothly Wu Changkong gave the therapist's name, and something stirred faintly in her heart. Zhenhua had recommended this person—he had contacted Zhenhua for her sake. Who was Zhenhua? The Federation soul master world's foremost authority on spiritual attributes, someone who normally did not make outside consultations. For Wu Changkong to get him to recommend someone meant he had not slept last night. She suddenly felt a little guilty, and a little something else besides.

The door to the third-floor consultation room was open. Doctor Zhang Xiaopeng stood at the entrance. He was around forty, with a square face, gold-rimmed glasses, a gentle smile, and a medical file in hand. He was a Seven-Ring Titled Douluo of the spiritual attribute, a rarity among therapists. The fact that Zhenhua had referred him showed that Wu Changkong carried more weight than Lu Menge had imagined.

"Teacher Wu, Teacher Lu, I've heard much about you both." Doctor Zhang shook hands with them in turn. When he shook Lu Menge's hand, he looked at her a little longer, a flash of professional curiosity passing through his eyes before he ushered them into the consultation room.

The room was unexpectedly cozy, with a sofa, potted plants, several landscape paintings on the walls, and pale blue curtains that softened the sunlight filtering through. If not for the diagnostic support instruments on the desk, Lu Menge might have thought it was someone's living room. Wu Changkong and Gu Yue waited in the reception area outside. Doctor Zhang shut the door, sat across from Lu Menge in a relaxed posture, and rested his pen on the file as though he were an old friend preparing to hear a story.

"Teacher Wu gave me a brief explanation—he said you may have been under a lot of pressure lately. So today, we'll just have a casual chat."

Lu Menge's brows twitched slightly at that. Wu Changkong had only said she was under pressure? He had not mentioned the Nine-Headed White Tiger, her cousin who was the reincarnation of the Silver Dragon King, or Di Tian running errands for her? She leaned back in her chair, a trace of composure returning to her fox eyes. "Doctor, he said I have schizophrenia with hallucinations and delusions. Let me state the premise first—I'm not insane. My true form is the ancient divine beast, the Nine-Headed White Tiger. I've lived longer than every living thing on this continent. Everything he called 'abnormal' is actually true."

Doctor Zhang remained silent for several seconds, then picked up his pen and drew a short line across the medical record.

"Can you tell me when this period of 'living for a very long time' began? Just say whatever comes to mind. You don't need to organize it."

Lu Menge opened her mouth to answer, then paused. That was not an easy question. She did not know how long she had lived—she had lived so long that she could not be bothered to remember. Leaning forward slightly, she tested him. "Doctor, you won't believe me even if I tell you the truth. Let's do this another way—scan my sea of consciousness directly with your spiritual power."

Doctor Zhang raised his eyes.

"What is your spiritual power level?"

"Higher than yours."

"I'm a Seven-Ring."

"Much, much higher than yours."

Doctor Zhang stared at her for a moment, then said seriously, "An invasive sea of consciousness scan carries risks for the person being examined. I need to confirm with your family before deciding."

Lu Menge reclined against the sofa, the corner of her lips lifting slightly. A Titled Douluo, a Seven-Ring spiritual attribute master, had been sent to confirm with Wu Changkong after just two sentences from her—after living so long, an authoritative institution was finally about to verify her identity. She really wanted to see Wu Changkong's expression when he learned the truth.

In the waiting area, Wu Changkong sat in his chair with his back as straight as ever, though his fingers kept tapping against his knee. Gu Yue sat across from him with that book in her hands, but the pages had barely moved from beginning to end. The consultation room door opened. Doctor Zhang leaned half his body out.

"Teacher Wu, could you come in for a moment? Teacher Lu has voluntarily requested a spiritual power scan—she says her spiritual power is higher than mine, much, much higher. This procedure carries some risks for the examinee, so I need your opinion."

Wu Changkong rose and walked over to Doctor Zhang, lowering his voice. "You may have already heard some of the things she said today. Higher spiritual power than yours—she has said similar things to her younger sister before. She said she has lived for many years, has many names, and that everyone fears her. She treats other people's fear as facts that truly happened."

Doctor Zhang's expression gradually turned grave. "She has begun turning her imagined sense of power into part of her self-perception. This is a typical compensatory delusion—she lacks a sense of control in real life, so she constructs an omnipotent self-image in fantasy. Has she mentioned any specific identity? For instance, calling herself 'ancient' or a 'Sacred Beast'?"

"Yes. White Tiger, Nine-Headed White Tiger, older than even the legendary beast Di Tian." Wu Changkong paused. "She said Di Tian is her subordinate. When she is most anxious, she unconsciously imitates animal sounds—the night before last, she came looking for me, and when she opened her mouth, it was not a human voice."

Doctor Zhang's fingers tightened around his pen. "What kind of animal?"

"A cat."

Doctor Zhang inhaled softly. Stripping away a great deal of obscure terminology, he pushed the conversation in the most direct direction possible. "Teacher Wu, victims of prolonged abuse are often forced to imitate animals. They may split off a powerful, worshiped personality and internalize the abuser's most imposing image as part of themselves—Di Tian, the Beast God, the figure she was forced to please but powerless to resist. The more these fragments accumulate, the more her complete delusional system places Di Tian in the role of 'subordinate,' incorporating images such as dragons and the God Realm to form her own Sacred Beast mythology. What her younger sister told you yesterday—the dresses in temperatures below freezing, washing her hands until they bled, vomiting over the sink—those things were not from this year, nor were they from last year. Ever since she could remember, she was raised as a toy, and one of the labels placed on that toy was 'kitty.'"

Wu Changkong stood perfectly straight. The window at the end of the corridor was open, and the early winter wind rushed in, numbing his fingertips with cold. He looked back at the tightly closed consultation room door. She made Di Tian run errands, called Gu Yue her cousin, folded all ancient myths into her identity—because in reality, she could not even decide what happened to her own body. That cat's cry had not been an accident. It was an echo of far too many voices carved into her bones. He gently pressed the Heavenfrost Sword deeper into its sheath.

"Then I'll leave her to you. No matter what she says—as long as you can make her feel a little better, let her feel safe enough to tell you what's in her heart, let her know no one will ever force her again, then this trip will not have been in vain."

Doctor Zhang nodded, pushed open the door, returned to the consultation room, and sat down again. He did not mention the conversation he had just had with Wu Changkong outside. He simply picked up the medical file calmly, as though nothing had happened. "Teacher Lu, I have received your family's consent. We will begin the scan now—the condition is that you completely open your sea of consciousness to external spiritual power. It may be uncomfortable. Are you sure?"

Lu Menge brushed her hair back, narrowed her fox eyes, and spoke in a lazy yet certain tone. "Doctor Zhang, I'm not insane. You'll know once you scan me."

Doctor Zhang took a deep breath and raised his right hand, his palm facing Lu Menge's forehead. A ring of pale blue spiritual light spread from his palm, gently and steadily probing into Lu Menge's sea of consciousness. Then his entire body froze. It was not that he had discovered something midway through the scan—it was that the instant he entered, he crashed into something indescribable. His spiritual power was like a small river plunging headfirst into an ocean. No, not an ocean, but a void deeper, older, and more terrifying than the sea—a chaos that had existed before the universe condensed its first star. Deep within that chaos, the phantom silhouettes of nine tiger tails slowly unfurled, each coiled around laws older than a Titled Douluo. A pair of amber vertical pupils opened in his sea of consciousness. There was no hostility, only existence. Merely existing was enough to make a Seven-Ring Titled Douluo's knees crack faintly.

Doctor Zhang abruptly withdrew his spiritual power. His forehead was drenched in cold sweat, and his gold-rimmed glasses had slipped crookedly down his nose. He sat in his chair, fingers clenched around the medical file. Lu Menge crossed one leg over the other, tilted her head at him, and wore a faint, half-smiling expression.

"Well, Doctor?"

Doctor Zhang opened his mouth, pushed his glasses back into place, and looked down at the medical record. Suddenly, all those medical terms on the paper felt like some ancient joke. But then he remembered what Wu Changkong had said just now—"Sacred Beast White Tiger," "Di Tian runs errands," "forced to please her abuser," "the strongest Beast God internalized as part of her personality," "cat noises." Lu Menge truly had tamed Di Tian, her abuser, into her subordinate through her trauma. The wounds her younger sister had described, the animalistic response she had blurted out in the corridor, the calm arrogance she carried today that was almost vengeful—these were all ironclad proof of trauma.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, slowly stood, and turned the medical file to a fresh page. "Teacher Lu, the scan results... are not very clear. I need to communicate with your family again. Please rest for a moment." He hurried out of the consultation room.

In the waiting area, Wu Changkong and Gu Yue both stood at once. Doctor Zhang wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, flipped a page in the medical record, and spoke with a trace of fear still lingering in his voice.

"Teacher Wu, the scan results—Teacher Lu's sea of consciousness does indeed contain an extraordinarily powerful spiritual barrier. But that is not evidence that she is mentally sound. On the contrary—her delusions have grown so deep that even a spiritual power scan cannot penetrate them. When ordinary people pretend to be strong, their spiritual power can at most pile up a fake mountain. Teacher Lu is different. She has piled up an entire continent. In her imagination, she has truly lived for tens of thousands of years and truly possesses the power of a Sacred Beast. Fantasies of this intensity—ordinary people's spiritual power simply cannot achieve them. The deeper the suffering she endured in reality, the thicker the armor she forged from fantasy."

Wu Changkong lifted his eyes from the medical file and looked toward the tightly closed consultation room door. This time, his expression was quiet and faint.

"...Then continue treating her. If she refuses to admit she is ill, don't tell her. If you prescribe medicine, mix it into her food. She likes braised pork and sweet-and-sour ribs—the heavier the oil and salt, the easier it will be to cover the bitterness. Gu Yue, keep a closer eye on her in the dormitory—if she turns off the tap and washes something for a long time again, or behaves differently from usual, tell me immediately. Keep in contact with Doctor Zhang at all times. Don't bill the academy. I'll pay myself. Is there anything I should not do?"

Doctor Zhang was silent for a moment, then lowered his head and began writing a prescription. "Try not to provoke her. She built this mythological system to protect herself. Directly exposing it will only shatter her further. Stability is the priority. We'll first use medication to help her sleep. If she can accept it at the next follow-up, I'll try more superficial brain-region localization."

Wu Changkong said nothing. He merely folded the diagnosis form and prescription neatly and placed them in the inner pocket of his coat. Then he turned and went to the pharmacy to collect the medicine. He walked down the corridor more slowly than usual, the blue soles of his shoes touching the white tiles one step at a time, as though he feared waking someone.

Gu Yue stood in the waiting area, watching Wu Changkong's back disappear around the end of the corridor. Her shoulders gradually relaxed. Leaning against the wall, she covered her face with both hands and let out a warped groan through her fingers. "She isn't mentally ill—the ancient energy fluctuations bounced his spiritual power back, and he actually thinks it was a barrier she imagined—fine, let him take her home and treat her slowly—when he finally agrees to let her true form fight the Heavenfrost Sword, he might understand... Though after that, he'll probably think she is even more deeply traumatized." She sighed, lifted her face from her hands, and walked toward the consultation room.

Lu Menge was sitting on the sofa in the consultation room with her thermos when she saw Gu Yue enter. She flashed a victorious smile. "That doctor scanned me. He was terrified. He went to tell Wu Changkong—he should be explaining that I'm normal now."

Gu Yue fell silent for a moment, then walked over and sat in the chair across from her. She placed a handkerchief on Lu Menge's lap—it was the one Wu Changkong had given her earlier.

"He used a special channel to get this appointment today. He did not sleep at all last night, and he was downstairs at six this morning because he was afraid you would run away. He even put hot milk in the front passenger storage compartment—you didn't see it. There is not a second person in all of East Sea City who could make Zhenhua recommend a doctor overnight. But he found one."

Lu Menge looked at the neatly folded handkerchief on her lap, raised her head, and called, "Gu Yue." Her lips parted slightly.

Gu Yue stood and walked toward the door, interrupting her in a flat tone. "No need to thank me. Think about how you're going to coax him."

Lu Menge leaned back against the sofa and picked up the handkerchief to wipe her cheek. The thermos beside her gave off a faint warmth. She stared at the pale gold embossed pattern on the corner of the handkerchief in her lap for a long time, until the sunlight filtering in through the window made its base color shimmer in mottled patches. At the end of the corridor outside, the pharmacist passed the separated packets of medicine through a small window. Wu Changkong accepted the paper bag and carefully read through the instructions. Then he headed for the consultation room, pushed open the door with the medicine bag in hand, and entered in a calm tone. "Doctor Zhang prescribed medication. Take it for two weeks first, then come back for a follow-up. If it works, continue."

Lu Menge stood from the sofa and looked at the medicine bag. She opened her mouth, wanting to say that the doctor had completely misunderstood—wanting to say that she really was not ill—but every word reached her lips and was pressed back down by that handkerchief. She took the salary card from her pocket, placed it facedown on the coffee table, and pushed it a short distance toward him.

"Take your salary card back—I don't lack money. Then let's go eat."

She thought Wu Changkong would take it back. He did not. He pushed the card back toward her, his tone as calm as ever. "Keep it. I'll continue putting money into it every month."

"...I really don't need it—"

"Keep it even if you don't."

Lu Menge lowered her head and looked at the card without speaking. Her finger tapped lightly against its surface before she tucked it back into her pocket. She accepted the medicine too. She accepted the card too. She had obediently come with him to psychiatry. For the first time in all her long life, someone had mistaken her for a person with delusions, yet the misunderstanding felt softer than every truth she had ever heard. Eat first. In a few days, she would find a way to let him know—she had not lied to him. She had simply lived too long, so long that even the truth sounded like a delusion. So long that only one person had been willing to slap a card onto the windowsill for her, then carry back a bag of medicine she did not need at all.