After listening to Fu Xunzhi's rambling explanation and having recorded enough information, they finally called in Fu Siming, the parent.
She pushed the report over, saying, "I didn't find anything wrong with him; he's a very healthy child. But he seems to be treating me like his mother."
I don't know if it's just my imagination, but the man in front of me seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
I was in a very good mood and didn't care at all about the last "but".
Song Xingyao had seen this expression on many parents, but it was rare to see it on his face.
He was just an ordinary father, wasn't he?
Thinking like that.
Fu Siming was glad that these words came from her mouth, because he had promised to give her a healthy child.
After Song Xingyao returned, he personally witnessed Fu Xunzhi's condition improve and his willingness to communicate with others.
For him, this was more of a pleasant surprise than any other capital increase or cooperation deal he had secured in the business world.
Fu Siming noticed that the woman in front of him looked completely disbelieving.
He quickly replied, "He was indeed like that before. Perhaps you make him feel more relaxed, and he trusts you a lot. As for why he calls you 'Mother,' perhaps it's just a natural affinity."
Then I handed over the previous report.
Seeing that Xu Shi's name was on it, she finally dispelled her doubts.
Having never seen a young client so dependent on a counselor before, Song Xingyao hesitated.
Fu Siming saw the difficulty in her eyes. "You don't actually need to treat him like your patient. Anyway, you accepted my pursuit. I believe that as long as you stay by his side, his condition will improve."
His suggestion is not entirely unacceptable; in psychotherapy, one form of treatment for fantasy is fulfilling that fantasy.
Especially for children, repeated emphasis and explanation may not be enough for them to understand.
Song Xingyao nodded and said in a businesslike manner, "I understand. I will also prepare a more detailed plan for him. You can go back now."
"It's already noon, let's eat."
Seeing her engrossed in writing, Fu Siming, who already knew she had no appointment for the afternoon, pulled her up from her seat.
In the struggle, her sleeve brushed against the tea in the teacup beside her, staining her cuff.
A picture suddenly flashed through my mind.
Her dazed movement caused her to bump into Fu Siming's arms.
She instinctively put her arm around his waist and asked with concern, "Song Xingyao, what's wrong?"
The dizziness I felt earlier was dispelled by the man's voice.
Her gaze refocused, and she looked at the man in front of her.
"What's wrong?"
What happened to you just now?
After recovering, Song Xingyao suddenly seemed excited. "Fu Siming, I felt like I almost remembered something just now, although it was something that flashed by and I didn't grasp it. Does this mean that I will be able to remember those things soon?"
Seeing the expectation in her eyes, Fu Siming remained silent.
"What's wrong, Fu Siming?"
The man's silence instantly cooled her initial joy.
Fu Siming's emotions were somewhat complicated. She hoped that Song Xingyao could remember the things that belonged to her in the past, but she was also afraid of remembering those things that would shock her.
"No, I'm happy for you. Let's go eat."
Along the way, apart from Fu Xunzhi chattering away, Fu Siming drove in complete silence.
After dropping Song Xingyao off downstairs, Song Xingyao said goodbye to Fu Xunzhi, "Xunzhi, wait in the car for a moment. I have something I want to talk to Dad about."
Seeing him nod obediently, Song Xingyao got out of the car and closed the door.
When Fu Siming saw her come out after talking to Fu Xunzhi, he also walked over from the driver's seat to her side.
The two looked at each other without speaking, and a cool breeze blew between them as the late summer wind blew.
"Fu Siming, don't you want me to regain my memories?"
"No."
"Then why didn't you say anything all afternoon when you heard that I might regain my memories?"
At this moment, Fu Siming was like a student waiting for the teacher to ask him a question. He was no longer as arrogant as before, but rather somewhat uneasy.
Fu Siming pulled her into his arms and gently rested his chin on Song Xingyao's shoulder.
"Song Xingyao, I'm scared." His words made Song Xingyao freeze on the spot. The probability of hearing a man like him take the initiative to show weakness was the same as meeting a little customer like Fu Xunzhi today who had no problems but came for treatment.
Song Xingyao couldn't see his expression, but she could feel the hands that were hugging her body tightening.
Her hand climbed up Fu Siming's back, stroking it gently like a kitten's fur.
When his breathing calmed down, he heard a deep voice from the man beside him, "I'm afraid you'll remember the bad past. I've finally seen you like this, and I don't want you to go back to how you were before."
In the past?
She herself understands that only by forgetting everything can she truly be in control of herself, just like many self-conscious hypnotists who ask to forget the past that caused their inferiority through hypnosis.
They will become confident, powerful, and all-encompassing, just like they are now.
But that's not the true self; it's someone who hasn't experienced setbacks and only has a sense of omnipotence.
Those unpleasant things are locked in Pandora's box; once opened, everything that follows is unknown.
But just like in her past career, even if there are faster ways to treat the disease, Song Xingyao will still choose the conservative, longer, and most effective treatment plan.
This self-deceptive self-salvation is not what she wants at all.
Her body was pinned against the car door by Fu Siming, leaving her no room to back away.
But she pushed the man in front of her away almost without hesitation.
Night had quietly crept into the sky, but Song Xingyao's eyes shone brightly, her deep pupils meeting Fu Siming's eyes with unwavering resolve.
"Do you believe me? Running away isn't the way to solve problems. I need to know what I've been through in order to truly change and save myself. Besides, even if I lose my memory, you've always been by my side, haven't you? Fu Siming, you'll always lend me a hand, right?"
A smile radiated the tenderness that belonged only to the two of them. Song Xingyao belatedly blushed and tried to dodge away.
But Fu Siming held her tightly in his arms, so tightly that not even a breeze could get between them.
"Okay, I'll tell you everything."
Fu Siming escorted Fu Xunzhi back to the old house, and then took Song Xingyao back to Haiyan alone.
From among the many folders, I pulled out a thickly sealed document booklet.
Looking up at him, I knew what it was: my life over the years, compressed and strung together into one unfamiliar story after another.
As long as she opens her book, Song Xingyao can input those unfamiliar memories into her mind.
But for that very second, she admitted that she was a little scared.
"I'm with you, Song Xingyao. I'm here. No matter what you see or hear, I'll be right behind you."
In the quiet and empty study, his hands were the only source of warmth.
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