Chapter 35#
A Mad Dog.#
Since returning home from the bar that day, Si Jingheng had buried himself in his work.
He showed up at the office at 7:00 AM sharp every morning and didn’t leave until eleven or twelve at night, sometimes even sleeping directly in the lounge of his office. The files piled up on his desk like a small mountain, the dense handwriting making one dizzy, yet he seemed tireless, his fingers flying across the keyboard, signing with so much force that he almost pierced through the paper.
Si Jingheng hadn’t been sleeping well lately. He forced himself not to think about anything, filling his days with work, but it was still useless.
The office was always filled with a rich coffee aroma, the bitter scent mixing with the smell of tobacco, creating a gloomy atmosphere.
Every day when Lin Wei came in to deliver files, she could see the heavy dark circles under Si Jingheng’s eyes, as if they had been stained with ink. The skin under his eyes was sunken, showing a tired ash-gray.
Si Jingheng didn’t understand. Clearly, his interactions with Qi Xu only occurred either during rare work moments or in bed after returning home, yet he still felt as though something very important was missing from his side.
It was like a piece of his heart had suddenly gone empty.
He couldn’t even explain to himself exactly what was missing.
The air in the meeting room was dry enough to make one’s throat itch. Si Jingheng put his fist to his lips, coughed a few times, and continued to stare at the dense spreadsheets on his computer screen.
Then, these spreadsheets gradually turned into characters that became increasingly incomprehensible.
“Mr. Si, Mr. Si? Are… you listening?”
Lin Wei’s voice pulled him back to reality.
Only then did Si Jingheng snap out of it. He blinked hard, the vacant look in his eyes gradually fading, replaced once again by a cold, hard expression. He raised his head and looked at Lin Wei standing in front of his desk, noticing she held a document with a somewhat cautious look on her face.
“Speak,” Si Jingheng said hoarsely. It was probably because he hadn’t spoken properly in too long, or perhaps his throat was too dry.
“This is the feasibility report for the overseas project. I’ve modified it according to your requirements. Please take a look.” Lin Wei gently placed the document on the desk.
Lately, Si Jingheng was truly too terrifying. His temper was as volatile as a bomb waiting to go off at any moment. Everyone in the company served him with extreme caution, terrified of accidentally rubbing him the wrong way.
Si Jingheng nodded, reached for the document, and forced himself to concentrate, flipping through the report page by page.
On ordinary days, Si Jingheng could spot issues or make decisions with just a few glances at these thin pages. Today, he flipped back and forth for over forty minutes, yet still didn’t remember a single word.
“Mr. Si?” Seeing him space out again, Lin Wei couldn’t help but gently prompt him.
Only then did Si Jingheng rub his temples, feeling physically and mentally exhausted.
His fingertips pressed against his brow, where it throbbed as if pricked by countless needles. A wave of exhaustion washed over him like a tide, making him almost unable to hold himself up. He leaned back against the chair and closed his eyes. His long eyelashes cast a faint shadow beneath his eyelids, concealing the fatigue deep in his eyes.
The meeting room was filled with company veterans, most of whom had watched Si Jingheng grow up and had very good relationships with his father. Seeing him like this, everyone was puzzled.
“Little Si, have you been too tired lately?” Director Zhang, sitting on his left, spoke first, his tone carrying a bit of concern. “You don’t look very well. Did you not rest properly?”
Director Zhang’s words seemed to open the floodgates, and the other directors joined in one after another.
“Yes, President Si, the body is the capital of revolution. No matter how busy you are with work, you must pay attention to resting.”
“I see you soaking in the office every day lately. This can’t go on. Even an iron body can’t take it.”
“If you’re feeling unwell, go get checked. Constant poor rest is no small matter.”
Although Si Jingheng could be called young and promising, being too much of a workaholic wasn’t good either, was it?
“How about taking a few days off to clear your mind and adjust your state?”
The concern from the directors poured in like a tide, their tones full of genuine worry. Si Jingheng was the only son of the Si family; he had taken over the company at a young age and run it spectacularly. These veterans thought highly of him and were now genuinely looking out for him.
Listening to their words, Si Jingheng felt a mix of complex emotions. He nodded slightly, his lips twitching, wanting to say he was fine, but when the words reached his mouth, he realized he didn’t even have the strength to pretend.
He could feel his body sending warning signals. Dizziness, weakness, and lack of concentration—these symptoms were becoming more and more obvious.
He indeed was sick.
Si Jingheng remained silent for a long time. The meeting room gradually quieted down as everyone looked at him, their eyes filled with concern and anticipation. He looked up, his gaze sweeping over the directors present. Opening his thin lips slightly, he uttered two words: “Meeting adjourned.”
Si Jingheng walked out of the meeting room and down the long corridor toward the elevator. The bright lights in the hallway cast a very long shadow of him, making him look exceptionally lonely.
Inside the elevator, he could even hear his own heartbeat—heavy and slow, like a dull echo knocking in an empty room.
Si Jingheng walked step by step along the parking spaces. He reached into his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes, drawing one and lighting it. A spark flared briefly in the darkness, reflecting his sharp, defined profile.
The harsh smoke inhaled into his lungs brought a brief sensation of numbness, clearing his chaotic mind slightly.
Si Jingheng leaned against a car door and slowly blew out smoke rings. The white smoke diffused into the darkness, blurring his expression.
After finishing the cigarette, Si Jingheng threw the butt on the ground and crushed it hard with his foot until the sparks were completely extinguished.
Sitting in the car, as if suddenly remembering something, Si Jingheng took out his phone and dialed Song Jianzhang’s number.
The phone rang a few times before being picked up. From the other end came a clamor of noise, along with a woman’s coquettish laughter, calling out something flirtatiously.
It looked like he had interrupted someone’s good time.
“The busy man is calling me? What’s up?” Song Jianzhang’s voice carried a bit of banter and was somewhat slurred.
Leaning against the back of his seat, Si Jingheng said flatly, “Do you know any psychologists?”
On the other end of the line, Song Jianzhang froze for a moment, followed by a burst of laughter. “Yo, the great President Si needs to see a psychologist too?”
What a joke. In their circle, the person least likely to have a mental illness was Si Jingheng. He was a guy who had whatever he wanted. Could it be he needed a doctor because he had too much money?
Si Jingheng frowned, in no mood to banter with him. “Do you know one or not?”
“Yes, yes, yes.” Song Jianzhang retracted his laughter. “I know one, quite famous. Supposedly, even money might not secure you an appointment. I also used some connections to get to know him. Why, did you really run into a problem?”
“Stop asking. Send me the contact info and address.” Si Jingheng’s patience ran out.
“Fine,” Song Jianzhang knew his temper and didn’t dare ask more. “I’ll send it to you right away.”
Not long after hanging up, Song Jianzhang sent over the psychologist’s contact information and address. Si Jingheng took a look; it was a private psychological clinic located in a high-end villa area in the city center.
Appointments were already booked out for a month, but Si Jingheng directly bought a slot at triple the price.
The next morning, Si Jingheng arrived at the private psychological clinic on time.
The clinic was a standalone villa, surrounded by lush green plants, creating a serene environment that isolated it well from the hustle and bustle outside.
Pushing open the door, the interior decor was simple yet warm, with off-white sofas, light gray carpets, a few abstract paintings hanging on the wall, and a faint scent of aromatherapy diffusing in the air, instantly making one feel inexplicably relaxed.
A middle-aged man in a white lab coat sat on the sofa, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, with a gentle smile on his face, looking very refined.
Seeing Si Jingheng enter, the doctor stood up, pointed to the sofa across the table, and gestured for him to sit. “Please sit. I am the doctor here. You can call me Doctor Chen.”
Without speaking, Si Jingheng walked straight to the sofa and sat down, glancing at the name tag on the man’s chest: Chen Ruiwen.
“What kind of issues have you been experiencing?” Chen Ruiwen sat down across from him, pulling out a notebook and a pen, still wearing that gentle smile.
Si Jingheng’s answer was simple: “I can’t sleep.”
His voice had no ups or downs, as if stating something that had nothing to do with him.
Chen Ruiwen nodded, jotted down a few lines in his notebook, and continued, “Has anything happened recently? When did you start having trouble sleeping, and what do you think about when you can’t sleep?”
Si Jingheng’s brow furrowed instantly.
What kind of garbage questions were these? He had absolutely no desire to answer.
This was no different from laying out all his unspeakable truths on the table.
Thus, Si Jingheng said sternly, “My friend said you were qualified to prescribe strong sleeping pills, which is why I came. I didn’t come to discuss the past with you.”
Chen Ruiwen pushed up his glasses, smiling, clearly accustomed to such situations.
Insomniacs were always this irritable; he was used to it.
Chen Ruiwen softened his voice. “Without knowing the exact condition and cause, I cannot prescribe controlled substances. Strong sleeping pills are prescription drugs and must be prescribed after a clear diagnosis. This is the regulation, and it is also being responsible to you.”
Si Jingheng exploded instantly. He stood up abruptly, propped his hands on the desk, leaned his body forward slightly, and stared fiercely at Chen Ruiwen like an enraged beast. “I’ll pay ten times the price. Write me the prescription.”
His voice was loud, carrying an irrepressible anger. The veins on his forehead bulged slightly, and the red veins in his eyes were clearly visible. His entire being radiated a terrifying aura.
Yet Chen Ruiwen remained unfazed, merely offering a smile and keeping his tone gentle. “Young man, this attitude of yours isn’t very good. The last young master who offered extra money for sleeping pills was much gentler than you. He was also a young master.”
The underlying meaning was: Look at yourself. Just like a mad dog.
Si Jingheng’s anger flared instantly. Just as he was about to lose it, a thought suddenly flashed through his mind.
There were only a few well-known wealthy families in the Imperial Capital. Song Jianzhang had also mentioned that even money might not buy an appointment with this psychologist. Who could it be that possessed both wealth and power, yet also had a mental illness?
For Chen Ruiwen to bring him up specifically and call him a “young master,” his status must be extraordinary. An inexplicable curiosity rose in Si Jingheng’s heart, and he asked casually, “Who?”
Chen Ruiwen put on a thoughtful look, blinked a few times, tapped his chin gently with his finger, and said slowly, “I recall the surname was Qi?”
He recalled a bit more. Perhaps because this young master hadn’t been here in a long time, his memory was a bit fuzzy. But trying to remember, the young man’s name was also quite unique. What was it again?
“Qi Xu? Oh right, right, right, that’s the name. Back then, I was even thinking what a great name that sounded like wishes coming true. How did he end up so unhealthy?”
The word “Qi” was like a bolt of lightning, instantly striking Si Jingheng’s head.
Si Jingheng stood up straight, slamming his hands on the desk. The blood in his body seemed to freeze at this moment, only to rush frantically to his brain in the next second, making him dizzy. His pupils contracted sharply, his eyes filled with shock and disbelief, his voice trembling with excessive agitation: “What did you say his name is? Is it Qi Xu? Is it him?”
How could it be Qi Xu?
Wasn’t Qi Xu usually perfectly normal?
Why would he come to see a psychologist?