Who would study psychology unless they had some issues?!

After listening to Nan Zhubin's words, the visitor sat down and began to write at length.

At the start, his strokes were hesitant; about five minutes later, the speed suddenly increased, the sound of "scribble scribble scribble" echoing without end.

The feeling was akin to writing the final composition in a Chinese language college entrance exam.

After another ten minutes, his speed slowly began to decrease.

Five minutes later, the visitor let out a long breath.

"Whew—"

The visitor pushed aside two densely filled sheets of paper, revealing an exhausted expression.

He shook his wrist, rubbed his eyes twice, then instinctively glanced at the wall clock: "Professor, I've finished writing... ah, has so much time passed already?"

The entire process of writing this "debate script" took over twenty minutes.

Nan Zhubin gently gestured not to worry: "Our goal today is to complete a full session of [empty chair technique]. I don't have any consultations after, so we can extend as necessary."

This reassurance slightly put the visitor's mind at ease.

Meanwhile, Nan Zhubin reached for the visitor's freshly written "debate script" for the [ideal self].

No need to look at the details, as Nan Zhubin had been watching while the visitor was writing, and was nearly memorized.

He pointed towards the direction of the sofa, guiding the next step of the consultation: "Next, we will conduct a debate based on this script."

"I'll play your [ideal self], and you'll play your [real self], okay?"

This is the most significant part of Nan Zhubin's [empty chair technique] this time.

The previous two stages made the visitor's internal conflict an observable object, triggering therapeutic self-separation, letting the visitor examine the war of "self" within them as an observer.

And now, it's time for the visitor to return to their battlefield after observing everything as an observer. First separate, then observe, and then re-engage.

But now, the visitor will not get lost as before. Under Nan Zhubin's guidance, the visitor will bypass rationalization defenses through role-playing, experiencing the present, releasing emotions, and achieving integration.

...

Just after more than twenty minutes of intense thought and work, the visitor's response was a beat slower.

This is also a good time for cognitive change.

Not correcting cognition through "thinking," but completing it through "experience."

And after so many consultations, the visitor more or less knows Nan Zhubin's purpose for this step.

He first took the water cup beside him, drank half of it in one go, then nodded: "Okay, Professor."

Then he walked straight to the sofa on the right, plopping heavily onto the green cushion.

Nan Zhubin could sense the visitor's eyes subtly revealing anticipation.

After Nan Zhubin sat on the left sofa, he deliberately placed a gray cushion and the first sheet that only said "I'm getting further away from you" on his knee, keeping them exposed in the visitor's view.

The consultant showed a calm yet slightly encouraging look, making eye contact with the visitor.

The consultation room went quiet for a moment.

Waiting for two breaths, as if brewing some emotion.

Then Nan Zhubin took the lead to break the silence: raising his hand as a sign: "Zhihao, let's begin."

...

The visitor took a deep breath, his eyes unconsciously flickering around, then said to Nan Zhubin: "I'm getting further away from you."

Nan Zhubin's posture, expression, and tone didn't change a bit, almost like monotone: "Because you could have avoided all this."

The visitor had initially opened his mouth ready to continue, but hearing this line from another person's voice, he couldn't help but pause.

Then gritted his teeth, tilting his head and closing his eyes: "I wanted to help. I knew the other side were scammers and that my comrade had already been fooled. I thought I could bring the criminals to justice, help my comrade get justice…"

Nan Zhubin lightly shook his head: "But you failed, didn't you? You were too arrogant, not only failing to help others but also getting yourself trapped."

The visitor paused again, like he hadn't adapted to this form of dialogue yet or perhaps was stung by Nan Zhubin's words.

Then the visitor lowered his head: "Yes, I was too arrogant. I'm not as capable as I imagined."

This part of the conversation had [ideal self] constantly accusing and [real self] consistently introspecting.

This was also what the visitor arduously thought about and hesitantly wrote down in the first five minutes.

Nan Zhubin glanced at the script in his hand, quickly setting it down, continuing: "You ruined the image I had painstakingly built over the years. I studied so hard, endured so much as a soldier, then secluded myself for nearly a year before getting into graduate school. I was supposed to be the most academically accomplished offspring in my family, the oldest in the class, the most experienced, the most stable in temperament."

The statement was long, and Nan Zhubin continued: "Before things happened, I was quite popular. The teachers liked me, classmates always invited me to events, and several girls approached me voluntarily. But now? It's all gone—"

"Because of you, I'm now ignored." Nan Zhubin no longer spoke monotonously, gradually adding emotion, guiding the visitor bit by bit to engage, "And this kind of life will continue for more than two years. Is this the graduate life you originally envisioned? It might have been, but it won't be anymore."

This passage was long.

It was also quite interesting.

Here, the [ideal self] seemed somewhat confused, as if mixed with parts of the visitor's [real self]—the [real self] before the traumatic incident occurred.

During the visitor's writing, it was here where the writing speed began to increase.

And what the visitor originally wrote for the [real self]'s response was only a few simple words: But I'm the victim, this isn't my fault.

But at this moment.

The visitor pursed his lips, looking up: "But I'm the victim, right? Shouldn't the real culprit be that fraud gang?"

...

Nan Zhubin held back a smile, not letting himself grin.

Usually, in his mind, the visitor might not even let the thought "But I'm the victim, this isn't my fault" cross his mind.

Even if it did, it would just flash by, and then his thoughts would be lost in constant self-criticism.

But today, after Nan Zhubin externalized the two "selves" using the [empty chair technique], he made sure to tell the visitor to write out the "conversation" of the two selves, even a—"debate."