# 14
**Chapter 14: I Have a Friend**
Knock knock knock!
"Come in."
Lin Qiye pushed open the door and walked into the consultation room.
Across the desk sat a middle-aged male doctor in a white coat, sporting a classic balding "Mediterranean" hairstyle—the very picture of wisdom.
Lin Qiye sat down. The doctor spoke leisurely:
"So, what's the problem?"
"I'm fine."
"If you're fine, why are you here?"
"I'm not sick, but I have a friend with a serious mental illness."
The doctor's expression turned odd. He chuckled, smoothing the few strands left on his head.
"This 'friend'—wouldn't happen to be you, would it?"
Lin Qiye answered solemnly, "No, it's really a friend."
"Alright, tell me what you—sorry, your friend—has. What are the symptoms?"
Lin Qiye pondered. "It's... a bit hard to describe."
The doctor smiled. "Then pretend you're the friend and show me."
Lin Qiye gave him a strange look, hesitated, then reluctantly nodded.
He stood up, walked around the desk, and stopped in front of the doctor.
He reached out,
pulled the man's head gently to his chest,
and with his other hand stroked the few remaining hairs,
eyes full of fatherly love,
whispered:
"My dear son, Daddy has finally found you!"
Doctor: "…………"
For the next ten minutes Lin Qiye deployed every rhetorical trick he'd ever learned, spittle flying, to prove it really wasn't him, narrowly avoiding compulsory admission.
"So your friend sees everything as her child?"
"Exactly!"
"And cried for a long time?"
"Non-stop."
"Likes to sit in the yard telling stories to vases and stools?"
"Yep."
"How's her sleep?"
"She doesn't sleep."
"…"
The doctor frowned. "Your friend is seriously ill. I strongly recommend bringing her here for inpatient treatment."
"Her situation is special—hospitalization isn't possible." Lin Qiye sighed.
He obviously couldn't say the patient was the Night Goddess Nyx, living in the mental asylum inside his head; he'd get a bed next to hers.
The doctor thought, fingers clacking on the keyboard. "If she can't be admitted, we'll try medication. I'll prescribe something; if there's no improvement, bring her in."
Lin Qiye looked troubled.
Could real-world pills reach his mind?
He doubted it—and doubted mortal medicine would work on a deity.
"Doctor, any other treatments?"
The doctor pondered. "Your friend's symptoms are severe delusions. I've seen this: a man lost his wife in a car crash, then talked to empty air, convinced she was still there."
"Such illness usually stems from deep psychological trauma. The mind rejects reality and builds a false one."
"Treating the root cause psychologically can help, but without drugs it's very hard."
"Medication and therapy work together—understand?"
Lin Qiye nodded thoughtfully.
Treat the root cause… but he knew nothing of Nyx's past.
More homework needed.
He took the prescription but didn't pay for it; if the drugs wouldn't work on a god, why waste money?
Besides… they were expensive!
He caught the bus back from the psychiatric hospital.
Still worthwhile—he now had an angle: counsel Nyx psychologically. To do that, he had to understand her.
He got off at Cangnan City Library.
...
No. 2 Middle School, front gate.
"Hey, who's that guy?"
"No idea—some parent?"
"I saw him at seven this morning."
"Me too. Sunglasses, shirt, coffee, leaning against the wall—looked kinda hot."
"Now he looks like a bum, eyes all red."
"You think he's been here all day?"
"No way—it's almost ten."
"Did you hear? Two students were murdered last night!"
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, I heard..."
Across the street, a lonely man sat on the curb, cigarette butts around him, streetlight casting a sorrowful shadow.
Zhao Kongcheng flicked ash, baffled.
From 6 a.m. to 10 p.m., sun-baked and stiff, he hadn't spotted the kid.
He'd definitely seen a No. 2 uniform last night!
Had the brat guessed he'd be staked out and skipped school?
Damn... my butt's numb.
He pushed himself up, dusted his pants, stretched.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a casual-clothed teen strolling with a few books... same build...
Hmm?
Zhao Kongcheng blinked.
Holy—!
Whoosh!
He sprinted like the wind, eyes red and murderous.
Twenty meters away the teen sensed him, shuddered, and bolted.
They raced down the street one after the other.
Lin Qiye wanted to slap himself—why pick this road?
Yesterday he'd stood the guy up; now the maniac was back!
Lin Qiye was fast, but Zhao Kongcheng faster—within seconds he was caught.
Zhao Kongcheng grabbed his shoulder with a wicked chuckle.
"Well, well, we meet again!"
Lin Qiye turned stiffly, tilting his head:
"Who are you?"