Who would study psychology unless they had some issues?!

The visitor completed this task very well.

Only in this way will the visitor write down things that usually flash by in his mind seriously.

Not only wrote them down, but now, he has to stand in the appropriate position, say these words, even shout them out.

Continue.

Nan Zhubin glanced at the text in his hand: "You think of yourself as the victim, but others don't see it that way. Some people think the person in the video is you, and even think that female con artist in the video is someone from the school. Do you remember? She used to be your friend."

"Also, Li Yanghan, do you remember how he initially found out about your situation? Because some people kept your video and showed it to him, which is why he came to ask you what happened."

These are both explosive traumatic events that the visitor hadn't mentioned before. If it weren't for entering this session today, Nan Zhubin wouldn't have known.

According to the order of the text, the visitor's next response should be: People are different, some just don't understand; that girl probably never considered me a friend before, it's impossible to make everyone like me.

Nan Zhubin looked at the visitor and saw the other person looking at the words on the paper in his hand, but his eyes were halfway unfocused.

His mouth was half-off-the-script: "Some people only believe what they want to believe, that girl might have only had a superficial relationship with me in the past. I can't make everyone like me, even though I used to hope for that, I've always known it's unrealistic... Now it just confirms it."

Nan Zhubin's eyes lit up.

The things said off-script were quite insightful.

The new elements introduced were also intriguing and could even be used at the end of this stage.

Nan Zhubin noted it down and continued reading down the script. He had a hunch that this stage was about to end.

Nan Zhubin's expression and tone seemed flat, but to another person's ear, it was piercing: "Not only that, do you remember when your classmates last invited you to go out? It was four months ago, after that incident, and no one believed you anymore."

Nan Zhubin looked at the visitor.

In his eyes, the visitor opened his mouth as if wanting to say something.

But then, the visitor suddenly tossed the script aside: "Teacher, there's something wrong here."

The visitor stepped out of this sort of role-playing state.

...

Nan Zhubin knew this was critical.

If the visitor explicitly said, "Teacher, I want to pause," he would stop according to the consultation rules; but since the visitor didn't explicitly express it, he needed to make an effort here.

His expression was unwavering: "Who are you talking to?"

The visitor opened his mouth, seemingly understanding something.

The visitor bit his lip, speaking as if to himself, "There's something wrong here. You... can say that about me, you can attack me, but when you say 'no one believes me anymore,' it feels like you're attacking my reasonable friends, you can't slander them."

Saying this, the visitor's nose twitched.

Nan Zhubin noted this reaction in his mind but refrained from responding briefly: "Who?"

Hiss—hu—

The visitor took a deep breath.

While writing the debate script before, he wrote down those things that would usually be submerged right after they emerged in his mind.

And now, those deeper things rose up, becoming weapons to resist those attacks.

"Like Li Yanghan, after that issue emerged, he almost came to my dorm to chat with me every day, worried I'd be in trouble; my roommate also invited me out several times during the holidays, although I refused, he did invite me."

"There are a few people like that, they are reasonable, not blindly following like you said. After the incident, it's like a filter, letting me know who my true friends are."

Good, he's building the [social support system] independently.

Nan Zhubin briefly went off-script, asking: "Do you truly believe these things?"

"Of course." The visitor's response was swift and certain, "I certainly believe these."

After he said this, he seemed a little surprised himself, his face full of sudden realization.

...

Nan Zhubin showed a satisfied expression, it was time to wrap up.

He poked his right hand into the palm of his left hand, making a pause gesture: "It seems like we've gone off-script, right?"

The visitor showed an embarrassed expression.

Before he could say anything, Nan Zhubin extended a finger: "We happen to need to pause here, I need you to calm down and feel yourself, can you describe your current emotions?"

The visitor instinctively grasped the hourglass pendant on his chest, his eyes losing focus.

After three breaths, he slowly said: "Feels... relaxed?"

That's what Nan Zhubin wanted, but not what Nan Zhubin desired most.

Nan Zhubin tried to guide: "When you just argued that friends understand you, your expression seemed different, what was your feeling then?"

"I..." the visitor recalled, "was... a little angry?"

Very good.

Nan Zhubin nodded: "Why were you angry?"

The visitor thought for a moment: "It's just, when I used to think about it myself, it didn't feel like that. But when words are said by someone sitting across from me, it feels... annoying, it feels like they're unreasonable..."

His voice grew smaller until it was silent, and Nan Zhubin said nothing either.

This was the effect Nan Zhubin wanted, both during the dialogue just now and now.

And this current brief [silence] was very precious.

After a long time, the visitor finally said: "Something feels off?"

Nan Zhubin directly guided: "The [ideal self] you constructed has some aspects that are off?"

The visitor looked at Nan Zhubin... no, at the pillow on Nan Zhubin's knee, then at the A4 paper on it that read "I'm getting farther away from you."

"...Yes." The visitor nodded.

Then he looked at his sofa, then at Nan Zhubin's sofa.

Suddenly, he realized they were distinctly separate entities.

Did he really let those unreasonable and annoying thoughts attack him before?

"I remember we just mentioned that you 'once hoped everyone would like you, even though you always knew it wasn't realistic, it just confirmed it now,' right?"

The visitor was silent for a moment, then nodded.

Then he once again looked at the pillow and A4 paper on Nan Zhubin's knee, suddenly smiling: "There are many... incorrect places."