SEC Chapter 203 This is not psychological counseling, it's forced liquidation.
Chapter 203 This is not psychological counseling, it's forced liquidation.
A long queue, a sight rarely seen in a century, formed at the entrance of Renxin Pharmacy.
The line stretched from the pharmacy entrance all the way to the street corner stall selling sugar-coated fried dough sticks. It was made up entirely of young people, each with lifeless eyes and ashen faces, exuding an aura of despair as if they had just had their wallets emptied by Singles' Day and then been told that all their packages were lost.
The week-long "citywide romance" in Changxiang City came to an abrupt end yesterday evening without warning.
That loving voice that resonated in the minds of countless people vanished without a trace, as if an online lover had suddenly deleted all their accounts, leaving not even a "we're not a good match" behind.
As a result, the whole city was heartbroken.
"Dr. Wang, I feel a tightness in my chest. Could it be a heart attack?" A girl with smoky makeup leaned weakly on the counter.
"No, it's a withdrawal reaction caused by a precipitous drop in hormone levels." Wang Minyu didn't look up, his hand quickly writing down a prescription. "Next."
"Doctor, I can't eat, I feel like vomiting at the sight of anything, and I feel like life has no meaning." A programmer wearing a plaid shirt adjusted his glasses, his face ashen.
"Normal. The dopamine secretion system has been forcibly shut down, and the taste buds are temporarily on strike." Wang Yu handed the written prescription to Li Siyuan next to him. "Give him two pounds of roasted malt to eat as a snack when he gets home; it'll stimulate his appetite. Next."
Li Siyuan and Zhao Na were so busy that they barely had time to breathe; one was in charge of dispensing the medicine, and the other was in charge of collecting the money.
The way they looked at their master had evolved from worship to awe.
While others are treating illnesses, Master is providing group counseling for an entire city on "post-traumatic stress disorder."
Of course, it's a paid service.
"Strive for Excellence Package No. 1, Bricklaying Therapy, 300 per person, payment upon signing in at the construction site."
"Strive for Self-Improvement Package No. 2, Fighting Poison with Poison, Tear-Inducing Essential Oil, 998 per bottle, includes a free pack of fine tissues, no bargaining."
In just one morning, the sales of onion essential oil and the commission from referring people to work on construction sites had made Boss Liu's old abacus beads almost patina with heat.
"Xiao Wang, you...you're a true business genius!" Boss Liu exclaimed as he counted the money. "You've managed to turn a city-wide mental crisis into our pharmacy's annual revenue-generating project."
Wang Minyu, carrying a teacup, walked to the door and looked at the "leeks" (investors) who, after paying, had tears in their eyes and were carrying shovels, but whose spirits had clearly improved. He said calmly, "I just helped them transform their misplaced emotions into productivity. This is called 'forced liquidation,' to prevent them from continuing to lose money."
Amidst the chaotic yet orderly "post-disaster reconstruction" work, a black Bentley Mulsanne, in a way that seemed completely out of place with its surroundings, quietly pulled up in front of the pharmacy.
A middle-aged man in a bespoke suit stepped out of the car. His hair was neatly combed, and the Patek Philippe on his wrist gleamed dazzlingly in the sunlight.
But his well-maintained face carried a deep-seated weariness and fear.
He didn't queue and went straight into the pharmacy.
"I'm looking for Dr. Wang Minyu," the man said, his voice hoarse and trembling slightly.
Zhao Na, who was directing the flow of people, was about to step forward to stop him, but Wang Minyu waved his hand.
He looked at the man.
In the field of vision of the [Aura Observation Technique], the aura above this man's head was extremely chaotic.
Beneath a layer of gray mist, symbolizing anxiety, entwined a thin, yet exceptionally resilient, black thread.
That thread echoed the direction of the Third Mental Hospital.
"Everyone else, please wait outside for a moment," Wang Minyu called out, then gestured to the man, "Please, let's talk inside."
In a small cubicle of the pharmacy, the man took off his gold-rimmed glasses and rubbed his temples.
"My name is Qin Zheng, chairman of Tianyu Media." He introduced himself, but there was no air of a chairman in his tone. Instead, he sounded like a drowning man grasping at a last straw. "Dr. Wang, I'm going crazy."
"Tell me about it." Wang Minyu poured him a glass of water.
"That's the voice." Qin Zheng's hand trembled as he held the water glass. "For the past week, everyone in the city has heard that voice filled with 'love,' right?"
"Yes, a large-scale online dating event just ended."
"Others hear love, but I..." Qin Zheng's face turned pale. "What I hear are two voices."
He paused, as if organizing his thoughts: "One is that very gentle, tender voice, like a woman singing. But there's another one, it's been there all along, ringing in my head for almost ten years. That voice is cold, chaotic, like countless radios simultaneously repeating formulas and codes I can't understand. For ten years, I've consulted the best neurosurgeons in the world, but they can't find the cause. They just say I'm hallucinating, that I'm under too much pressure."
"But that week was strange." A morbid light shone in Qin Zheng's eyes. "After that woman's voice appeared, the voice that had been nagging in my head for ten years actually... fell silent. Quieter than ever before. Those were the seven best nights of sleep I'd had in ten years."
Wang Minyu understood.
"So, that female voice from yesterday disappeared. Your 'old friend' has returned?"
"It's back." Qin Zheng closed his eyes in pain. "And it's even worse. It seems to be enraged by the disappearance of that female voice. Now, my head isn't just having a radio malfunction; it's like a heavy metal rock concert, the death metal kind. I feel like my head is about to explode."
This is a classic case of "when a couple quarrels, the neighbors suffer."
The "mother" and the "father" are having a long-distance romance, with the "mother's" voice suppressing the "father's" signals.
Now that the "mother" has been driven into a state of depression by Wang Minyu's "breakup happiness water," the "father" has naturally lost its restraint and has begun to output wildly.
"Dr. Wang, I've investigated you. I know you're not an ordinary doctor." Qin Zheng pulled a check from his pocket and pushed it towards him. "As long as you can make that voice disappear, or bring that woman's voice back, I'll pay you whatever it takes!"
Wang Minyu glanced at the check; it was covered in zeros.
Instead of taking it, he asked an unrelated question: "Chairman Qin, have you been to the Third Mental Hospital in the south of the city?"
Qin Zheng's body stiffened abruptly, and his pupils contracted instantly.
How did you know?
"You smell," Wang Minyu said casually, "a mixture of formaldehyde and old paper. And there's a peculiar dust stuck in the crevices of your Patek Philippe watch strap. That kind of dust can only be found in the basements of old buildings constructed with specific minerals. In Changxiang City, there are only two places that fit that description: the museum and Building A of that hospital."
Qin Zheng looked at Wang Minyu with horror in his eyes.
This is no longer within the realm of medicine; this is Sherlock Holmes.
"Yes." He finally admitted dejectedly, "When I was young, I was naive and liked to do things like...adventures. Ten years ago, a few friends and I sneaked into the basement of the abandoned Building A of that hospital. Ever since I came back from there, that voice has been coming to my head."
The truth is clear.
This guy is one of the sources of contamination from the "father" signal.
"The cause of the illness has been found." Wang Minyu pushed the check back. "The treatment plan is also in place. However, I cannot accept the money for now."
"Why?" Qin Zheng asked anxiously.
"Because I need to go to the crime scene to treat you. I need you to take me to that hospital. Not sneaking in, but walking in openly and honestly." Wang Minyu's eyes gleamed with the light of a hunter eyeing his prey.
"This...this is difficult," Qin Zheng said with difficulty. "That hospital is now under military control, and the security level is extremely high."
"You're the chairman of EE-Media." Wang Minyu tapped the table. "You shoot so many promotional videos for the government every year, and you don't even have this much connection? Just say you need to go there to gather inspiration for your next suspense blockbuster. Or, just say you're crazy and specifically ask to go to the most 'authoritative' mental hospital in the entire Changxiang City for treatment."
Qin Zheng was stunned.
Is this even possible?
"I'll give you three days." Wang Minyu stood up, issuing a dismissal order. "If you can't do it in three days, then spend the rest of your life with your Patek Philippe and the rock music in your head."
He paused, then added, as if talking to himself, or perhaps to Qin Zheng.
"After all, if we get there too late, I'm afraid those two... might really get back together. And then the whole city will suffer."
Qin Zheng shuddered, took the blank check, and walked away dejectedly.
After he left, Su Qing came out of the inner room.
"Boss, are you... planning to use patients as a pledge of loyalty?"
"Otherwise what?" Wang Minyu picked up his teacup again, blew on it to cool it down, and said, "Professional matters should be left to professionals. We are doctors, responsible for treating patients. He is the patient, responsible for making appointments. It makes perfect sense."
"So what preparations do we need to make?"
"Pierre!" Wang Minyu called out to the kitchen.
The fat Frenchman came bouncy out, a rolling pin covered in flour in his hand: "Boss, what can I do for you?"
"Go, find the high-energy batteries we took from those two cyborgs from Zhao Wuji last time." A meaningful smile appeared on Wang Minyu's lips.
"This time when we go to the mental hospital, we won't bring any banners or fruit baskets."
"Let's go... to provide warmth and give each other electrotherapy."
(Thank you all for your continued support. Happy Chinese New Year!)