Suffering does not wait for you to be ready to come

The saddest story is under the floor of the psychology room

　　Female psychologist Horton is very sick at first.

　　In the morning, fever. Her husband and assistant, Park Wanfu, said, "Call in sick."

　　Horton said, "I can do it."

　　It was still early when she walked into the workroom, and her first appointment had not yet arrived.

　　The pale blue cloth Freudian couch, lying quietly in the corner of the psychology room, looked like a brave lion that had sucked in countless secrets of people and was taking a nap. Legend has it that the brave lion is the patron saint of money, only eats but does not shit, and has no anus, so its belly is as big as a drum. The Freudian couch of the psychological clinic devours the mind's prey. The psychology room is inhabited with stories everywhere, half glued to the legs of the sofa, a quarter stuck to the ceiling, and those most bizarre tales hidden in the folds of the curtains. Once you shake open the curtains in the evening, they escape, one wing drooping and slanting through the air. And then there are the bleakest stories, buried beneath the psyche room, like hidden corpses, swirling with phosphorous in the middle of the night.

　　Horton heard a sound from the waiting room outside, and it was the employee in charge of reception, Wen Guo, who came. Horton asked, "Are there many people making appointments today?"

　　The mood is conflicted. As the head of an independently owned psychological clinic and a psychologist, of course, I would like to have as many visitors as possible, but with the dramatic increase in workload, I sometimes look forward to a few days when I can rest in the name only.

　　"More." Wen Guo unlocked the briefcase and pulled out a stack of forms and handed them to Horton. "The first one, surnamed Wu, wants your treatment by name."

　　"Wu what?" Horton asked, the name often revealing the message.

　　"Not Koutian Wu, it's None of Nothing. The visitor Mr. Park made an appointment with, the man refused to give his name anyway." Wen Guo smacked his lips.

　　A minute before the appointed time, a man walked in. "Horton psychologist is already here, right?" The man cut to the chase.

　　"Yes. She is already waiting for you." Mango replied. Pak Man Fuk looked at the word "none" on the registration form and felt it was inappropriate to try to redeem himself by saying, "Please fill out your form exactly, it's for your good. ......"

　　The man arrogantly interrupted him and said, "I know better than you how to treat myself. Your rules and regulations do not say that if you do not fill out the form completely, you will not receive visits. If you think your system is not strict enough ......" The man crooked his ring finger at the wall where the "Notice to Visitors" sign was hanging. He went on to say, "...... can be changed in the future so that people like me don't have a loophole to exploit. This time, with all due respect, I'll go straight to the psychologist." After saying that, without waiting for Wen Guo and Bo Wanfu to react, he walked into the psychological room in big steps.

　　Horton sat on the sofa, panting slightly from illness and weakness, and her intuition told her that the visitor was not good.

　　The man was tall, with a cold face and a black suit, as if he had just returned from a funeral. With an effort to smile, Horton stood up and said, "I'm Horton. Hello."

　　"I'm not good enough to come to you." The man replied coldly, his gaze having a murderous insight into everything, and sat himself down.

　　Horton also took his seat and said, "How do I address you?"

　　"You can just call me X." The man's voice remained devoid of any heat.

　　"Sir, you are very special," Horton said. She didn't want to call him "X" as if it were an unknown letter in an equation. There was no one else in the room, so the word "sir" became a pronoun.

　　"There's nothing special about me. You're the one who's special." Mr. X didn't take the bait and snapped back.

　　Horton, unwilling to enter into a confrontation at the beginning of a conversation, dropped the subject and started another chapter. "Is there anything you want to discuss when you come here?"

　　"No." The man sealed the direction dryly.

　　The man's face loosened slightly and he said, "I have nothing to discuss with you, to say about another person."

　　Horton said, "A psychological interview, has to be in person."