"What kind of place is Pitti? Trauma?"
Meng Chijian and Wen Qiao were both completely confused.
Mo Man wasn't a professional psychologist before, so she could only briefly share her understanding: "The situation you described is actually a form of self-protection for the patient. Well... if the condition is mild, almost everyone experiences it."
Wen Qiao was once again shocked by the worldview she had been presented with: "Could this really be considered a disease?"
"If the situation gradually worsens, such as delusions or auditory hallucinations, and if there are persistent cognitive problems, such as having an adult body but a childlike mind, then some dangers may arise."
Meng Chijian's expression was solemn: "Where is that book? I'd like to buy a copy too."
Mo Man said calmly, "Why? That was many years ago, and I'm afraid it can't be found now."
Wen Qiao now vaguely understands that Mo Man is from the celestial realm and does not want to reveal her identity after descending to the mortal world to avoid causing trouble. She also chimed in, "Meng San, things may not be as you think. If the person you just mentioned is Lu Amian, then I think you can rest assured."
Mo Man was also somewhat surprised. The little native seemed lively and well-behaved, and although he occasionally showed an innocent expression, she had assumed that natives were naturally this simple and honest...
“I remember the first time I met A-Mian, she really looked like a little kid back then, in everything she said and did. But every time I saw A-Mian later, I felt that she knew a little more, and now she can work in other people’s shops.”
Mo Man nodded: "Although I don't know what happened in the past, A-Mian's situation is probably because she was too closed off before. Now, new things and experiences are constantly stimulating her mind, and she is slowly changing, which is a good thing. After all, this situation is relatively rare in PTSD. The most common symptom is 'flashbacks,' where patients have nightmares, frequently break down and cannot control themselves, and experience excessive self-blame and pessimism..."
"Wait...wait!" Wen Qiao exclaimed, slapping her thigh as she listened to the symptoms. "Isn't this...isn't this what happened to you, Meng San?!"
"What? Is he sick?"
Ah Mian, who was originally waiting in the courtyard to "practice martial arts," slipped out when Doctor Mo was late and overheard the last two sentences. She quickly said to Mo Man, the doctor she regarded as a miracle worker, "He wasn't eating well before and had to drink a lot of bitter medicine before his fever broke. Is he sick again now?"
"No." Meng Chijian didn't know how the topic had turned to him. Seeing that both doctors said that A-Mian was fine, he was now completely relieved. "I'll go back to the shop to work first. Come find me at the shop after you've finished your studies."
This time, Mo Man plans to continue teaching modern exercises for various body parts, as well as "breast nodule exercises" for women.
Ah Mian followed along, imitating each move, and couldn't help but say, "Actually, he's a bit strange."
"how?"
"Sometimes he seems to wake up from a dream, covered in sweat, and he won't respond when called, then he'll fall asleep again. Also, he has very scary scars on his back, and if someone asks about them in the shop, he looks at them strangely, like he wants to eat them."
Mo Man: "I can't be sure if it's that illness, because we don't have the conditions for diagnosis and confirmation right now. But based on your description, it's quite possible."
Upon hearing this, A-Mian perked up and rattled off a whole bunch of things, even mentioning how Meng Chijian always arranged her straw sandals with one side facing outwards. "He's so strange! Everything has to be arranged from largest to smallest, otherwise he'll rearrange it, and also..."
Mo Man had never realized that A Mian was so talkative before. This illness was not her area of expertise, so she could only offer a few general suggestions: "In short, if he really has that kind of mental illness, then the most important thing is the support and understanding of his family and his own psychological transformation."
"What's the meaning?"
"Many patients with this disease think, 'If I had done this or that back then, would the disaster have been avoided?' Holding onto these thoughts, they find it hard to forgive themselves and end up reliving the events over and over again."
Ah Mian seemed to understand but not quite, then frowned and racked her brains for a solution.
After learning a set of "full-body health exercises," she said goodbye to Mo Man and returned to the blacksmith shop.
Amian first put down her basket, then washed her hands and feet with cold water at the door, and changed into a pair of clean straw sandals that she had previously left in the shop.
"Everything's on the table, help yourself," Meng Chijian said, turning his head, then continued talking to the guests, "About the size of this iron pot..."
She expertly poured the cooled boiled water into a bowl, then rummaged through the vegetable basket on the table, finding two tea eggs and an ear of corn inside.
It seems that the old lady at the dock is still selling food there. According to observation, only her family still goes to the dock every day to sell tea eggs and corn. The noodle vendors only go every other day, and on the other day they sell noodles in other places.
The people at the dock are only willing to spend this much money at most.
She was very hungry after finishing her martial arts training, so she ate all the snacks and drank half a teacup of water. Only then did she notice an object next to the vegetable basket.
"It's a jump rope! This rope is no ordinary rope."
Jump ropes already exist, but most are made of hemp rope. This rope, however, has a smoother surface, some elasticity and toughness, and is very light to hold. Furthermore, each end has a wooden handle for easy gripping.
"This is an animal skin rope, made of sheepskin."
Meng Chijian has already finalized the deal.
Amian tried jumping a few times—the rope hit her feet as soon as she jumped, and if she swung her arms first, she couldn't jump. She had never played before and didn't know how.
"That's not how it works. Come here." Meng Chijian took the rope and told A-Mian to stand opposite him. "When I say 'jump,' you jump, understand?"
"Uh-huh."
After just two tries, A-Mian immediately understood. Meng Chijian no longer needed to say "jump," and she could grasp the rhythm. She instantly realized the fun of it.
Her hair bounced, and her face was beaming with smiles; she was a beautiful young woman in the prime of her life.
"Give it to me, I'll get it!"
She played with the jump rope for about half an incense stick's time before finally exhausting all her energy, stopping her fussing, and collapsing onto the bamboo chair to fall fast asleep.
When I woke up from my afternoon nap, the sun was already setting.
A-Mian cleverly helped with closing the shop. Meng Chijian counted the remaining materials in the shop, locked the money box and ledger, while she swept the floor and threw away the trash (mainly the food she had eaten). Then the two of them put the wooden planks into the door one by one and secured them with iron rings.
And so, in the remaining sunlight, the two returned home together.
On the way, A-Mian said earnestly, "I want to help you get better. I've thought of a way."
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