TIL - 25

Wen Huo asked him, “Is that appropriate?”

“Do you want to go?”

Wen Huo didn’t want to go: “Can I go?”

Chen Cheng said, “If you want to, you can.”

Wen Huo reached for his hand: “As long as you don’t take Han Bailu, I won’t go. What am I anyway? Take me when there’s an academic awards ceremony in the future; I might barely qualify for entry then.”

Chen Cheng said nothing more, seemingly lost in thought.

Wen Huo felt uneasy seeing his deep, inscrutable expression and confirmed once more: “You really won’t take Han Bailu, will you?”

Chen Cheng looked up at her: “No, I won’t.”

Wen Huo knew that Chen Cheng’s words were not very credible, and his previous coercion was clearly aimed at something. But she truly couldn’t allow Chen Cheng and Han Bailu to reconcile, so even though she knew it was a trap, she stepped into it.

She was hired by Han Bailu. If Han Bailu and Chen Cheng reconciled as before, could her situation possibly remain good?

She got off Chen Cheng’s lap, picked up a piece of fish with her chopsticks, intending to put it in her own mouth. She looked up at Chen Cheng and then put it on his plate instead: “Teacher Chen, have some fish.”

Chen Cheng rested his arms on the table, staring at Wen Huo: “This fish is too sour.”

“Hmm?”

“Too much vinegar.”

Wen Huo sneered inwardly, but maintained a neutral expression on the surface, playing along awkwardly: “I eat everything, except jealousy.”

“Hmm, you don’t get jealous, just a bit impatient, so impatient that you’re offering to do a striptease for me.”

Wen Huo knew that after Chen Cheng forced her to say she liked him, he would inevitably tease her every now and then, or rather, he would use those words to corner her in the future. Anyway, Chen Cheng never did anything meaningless.

With ulterior motives, she took another bite of fish: “I never said I’d do a striptease for you. Are you mistaken?”

Chen Cheng’s composed expression loosened a bit.

Wen Huo ate her fish, watching him as she ate: “Teacher Chen is getting more and more improper with age. He still wants to watch striptease? Disgraceful for an elder.”

Chen Cheng took away the fish she was eating: “You’ve had enough.”

Wen Huo watched the fish being taken away, pursed her lips, looked at him, then pursed her lips again: “I only had two bites, I’m not full.”

Chen Cheng threw her two tissues: “Wipe your mouth. I’ll take you back.”

Wen Huo put down her chopsticks: “Oh.”

________________________________________

Upon arriving at school, Wen Huo immediately asked Wu Guo to contact Yang Yinlou. When Yang Yinlou heard she had something related to Chen Cheng to discuss, he agreed to meet.

The meeting was scheduled for Wednesday. Wen Huo cleared two hours on Tuesday afternoon to visit Cheng Cuo. She wanted to understand the taboos of communicating with a patient of the severity of Yang Yinlou’s mother. She still hoped this meeting would be fruitful.

Cheng Cuo had just finished work and offered her some newly bought liqueur.

Wen Huo asked him, “No more patients?”

“Not today. Later, a junior from my university days is coming to see me, and we’ll go have dinner together. She’s driving, so I can have a drink.”

Wen Huo nodded and got to the point: “For patients like Guan Xinlei, what should one pay attention to when communicating?”

Cheng Cuo said, “Pay attention to her emotions. You might not think what you say means anything, but as a listener, she might interpret it in a hundred ways. That’s fine; the crucial thing is that none of those interpretations will be positive.”

Wen Huo generally understood the meaning but still needed Cheng Cuo to explain further: “How so?”

“Just think of the opposite of positive. You are a rational person; rational enough to analyze the impact of injuries on your body, whether big or small. But most women are emotional creatures, and at such times, negative emotions dominate their thoughts.”

Cheng Cuo said: “Insomnia patients are also called sleep phobics. If they can’t sleep, the whole world is wrong. What positive aspects can there be?”

Wen Huo didn’t speak. She was different from what Cheng Cuo described, but she surprisingly understood the situations he spoke of.

Cheng Cuo was good at guessing patients’ psychology. He thought, if Yang Yinlou’s mother’s insomnia was never cured throughout her life, she must have endured countless heartbreaking nights, right?

As he spoke, sadness showed on his face. He truly loved his profession, loved every seemingly abnormal person, loved listening to their stories, and even more, loved seeing them regain the courage to face the sun with his help.

He poured wine for Wen Huo: “Patients are really too adorable. How can someone be so cute when they’re sick? Their ideas are all so strange and wonderful.”

Wen Huo understood: “I think I get the gist of it now.”

Cheng Cuo nodded, took a sip of wine: “Are you in such a hurry to cure your illness because you’re breaking up with my cousin?”

Wen Huo had just become addicted to Chen Cheng, just found his body delicious. Out of selfishness, she wanted to indulge a few more times, but Chen Cheng was too bad; he pushed her too hard. This was just asking her to say she loved him. What if next time he forced her to choose between him and physics? What would she do?

One must be able to resist temptation. A body like Chen Cheng’s was definitely not unique. If she lost this one, there would be another.

Thinking this way, it was almost too easy for her to give up on Chen Cheng.

She said to Cheng Cuo, “Your cousin is too shrewd. I can’t guess what he’s thinking at all. I don’t like the feeling of someone holding my lifeline. Plus, he’s thirty-two years old.”

Cheng Cuo chuckled: “My cousin probably never imagined that the key to him losing this game of chess would be his age of thirty-two.”

Wen Huo could still recall her chaotic thoughts from last night. Chen Cheng, without a word, had kept her anxious all night. Even the most ambition-driven woman would fear a man like that.

Wen Huo was too rational; her rationality allowed her to calmly view temptation.

Cheng Cuo respected Wen Huo deeply. He would never interfere with how she chose to handle her relationship with Chen Cheng, just as he would keep confidential every story his patients told him. He simply had a knack for inspiring trust in others, almost unconsciously.

After chatting with Wen Huo for a while, Cheng Cuo’s phone rang. Having had some wine, he forgot to step aside to answer, and Wen Huo overheard the conversation.

Wen Huo didn’t deliberately try to listen; the volume was too loud, and the other person’s voice was too recognizable. He said, “Dr. Cheng, can I book you for tomorrow noon?”

Cheng Cuo was considering.

Wen Huo froze.

Cheng Cuo considered for about seven or eight seconds, then said, “Okay, you set the place.”

The call ended, and Wen Huo asked, “Was that your patient?”

“Mm, the one I mentioned to you before.”

Wen Huo remembered: paranoid personality disorder. A minute or two later, she asked again, “Is his name Su He?”

Cheng Cuo looked up.

________________________________________

Tang Jun’en had prepared the stone appraisal event for Chen Huaiyu. After finishing, he called Chen Cheng and invited him to dinner.

Chen Cheng finished his meeting around five, perfectly on time for the appointment.

The two met and tacitly ordered red wine first.

The waiter looked at the two and smiled faintly: “Whose order should I follow?”

Tang Jun’en nudged his chin towards Chen Cheng: “His.”

Chen Cheng reminded Tang Jun’en: “It’s your treat.”

Tang Jun’en’s face darkened, and he took back the right to order. No way, if it was his treat, he didn’t want Chen Cheng to order. Chen Cheng ordered things that were too expensive.

After ordering, he looked at Chen Cheng, who was clearly well-nourished, and said, “Good news?”

Chen Cheng didn’t say.

Tang Jun’en narrowed his eyes: “Did you take down some law firm? Or did you meet another persistent admirer?”

Chen Cheng still didn’t say.

Tang Jun’en recalled their high school days: “We used to share a dorm. Because of your face, the six of us in the dorm ate and drank well every day.”

Chen Cheng used to rely on his face to support their entire dorm.

Tang Jun’en sighed as he spoke: “Now I treat you every day, you freeloading dog.”

Chen Cheng was still immersed in his constrained world and ignored Tang Jun’en.

Tang Jun’en grew more and more curious: “What’s wrong with you?”

“Going to the film festival in a couple of days.”

Tang Jun’en knew that: “So? Have you stooped so low that attending a film festival makes you secretly happy?”

Chen Cheng still didn’t say.

Tang Jun’en guessed: “Is it related to Wen Huo?”

Chen Cheng had a slight, almost imperceptible eye movement, but the observant Tang Jun’en noticed it and confirmed: “Did she make you feel good?”

“Vulgar.”

Tang Jun’en connected it to the film festival he had just mentioned and guessed again: “You’re taking her to the film festival?”

Chen Cheng wasn’t surprised that Tang Jun’en could guess roughly. He was already very perceptive. Even if he wasn’t, they had known each other for years, and he knew what touched his emotions.

Tang Jun’en saw that he didn’t answer and confirmed: “Are you okay? Do you think the entertainment section doesn’t have enough news about you? I’ve never heard of taking a mistress to a public event.”

Chen Cheng’s focus wasn’t on Wen Huo or the film festival, but on Wen Huo being jealous of him taking Han Bailu to the film festival.

Chen Cheng’s external emotions were not abundant; those unfamiliar with him wouldn’t notice anything unusual, but Tang Jun’en understood him too well in certain aspects. He could see all his subtle peaks of emotion. “How do you plan to handle it?”

Chen Cheng said, “Do you know anyone involved in the theme design of this film festival?”

Tang Jun’en raised an eyebrow, guessing half of it: “Why?”

“Have him lean the entire theme of the film festival more towards academics. You can invite some authoritative figures in the industry, and also some young blood, like researchers who have already published in authoritative journals.”

Tang Jun’en could do it, but: “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll give you a blank promise note. Fill in whatever you want, and I’ll fulfill it all.”

Tang Jun’en gave Chen Cheng a thumbs up: “Typical you, a thirty-year-old genuinely cunning, falsely innocent old man.”

Chen Cheng stirred his mushroom soup, not responding.

Tang Jun’en truly admired this young girl Wen Huo, and at the same time, felt sorry for her. To be targeted by Chen Cheng, whether he intended to elevate her or destroy her, was something no ordinary person could withstand.