When leaving the house that weekend, Jiang Ying didn’t bother with makeup.
Su Heng had also finally confirmed that when she wore makeup at the banquet, it hadn’t been for that psychologist.
By the time they reached the psychology clinic, Jin Chuyun had already brewed tea and was waiting for her.
The consultation room was simply decorated but welcoming. Outside the window, a simulated sunset rain played. Opposite the sofa, a fire crackled in the fireplace, its wood burning.
Jin Chuyun had brought that wood back from a logging camp that was about to be abandoned.
In this freezing climate, a heating method like that was utterly useless. The newly rebuilt cities after the apocalypse had long cast aside such outdated things. People lived surrounded by high technology; most had never even laid eyes on a colossal relic from an older age.
Jin Chuyun seemed to have a fondness for these antiquated objects.
In a corner of this very consultation room stood a gramophone he’d bought from an antique market.
Every time Jiang Ying came here for her session, she wanted to reach out and touch the vinyl record spinning on it.
Even having come from another world herself, she had never actually seen such an old, old contraption before.
Jiang Ying sat down on the sofa. The gentle afterglow of the sun spilled over her shoulders, warm and cozy.
On the table before her sat a diffuser releasing the scent of a mountain rainstorm, and the sound of pattering rain filled her ears.
She loved the sound of rain—something she’d mentioned once during a session.
Ever since then, every time she visited the consultation room, she would almost always hear similar sounds. A mountain rainstorm, the howling wind, the clatter of a train on its tracks, the crackle of firewood in the fireplace.
Sometimes Jin Chuyun would even set out a small grill and cook strips of pork belly on it, sizzling away.
It was the last sort of thing you’d expect someone like him to do.
So strange.
Jiang Ying wasn’t particularly interested in asking about it.
Anyway, these white noises put her at ease, and she quickly relaxed.
Jin Chuyun crossed one leg over the other, leaning back on the sofa, and picked up his teacup as naturally as ever.
The lid clinked softly against the rim. That single, clear sound signaled the start of the psychological consultation.
He didn’t look at her, but rather asked casually, like a friend, “How have things been lately?”
“Same as always, hey.”
The teacup was right beside her hand, set in the exact same spot every time.
Jiang Ying never noticed this deliberate detail.
She tried to blow her hot tea cooler, her tone carrying a contradictory mix of worry and indifference: “It seems like my feelings toward beastmen are still the same.”
Jin Chuyun lifted his eyes slightly.
Three years now, and she still kept a distant formality with him.
She appeared easygoing, yet she never let anyone into her heart.
It was as if she didn’t believe they were from the same world.
“Mm, no rush. Take it slowly.” He set down his teacup, suddenly losing the leisurely mood for tea. “What about that beastman guide dog friend of yours?”
“A Heng?”
A small dimple appeared on her cheek, and only then did a trace of genuine, heartfelt happiness touch her brows and eyes. “He’s waiting outside.”
She called that beastman “A Heng.”
Jin Chuyun knew it didn’t signify anything special—just like she also called A Lanyin “A Lan.”
It was nothing more than a habit of hers when naming dogs.
But this time seemed a little different.
“You seem to like him quite a lot.” He looked at her, steering the session into today’s main topic. “While your cognitive disorder hasn’t improved, is it exhausting being in contact with him?”
“Exhausting?” Jiang Ying was perplexed. “Not at all! He’s very well-behaved, not the kind of dog that barks wildly or bites and wrecks things.”
Jin Chuyun wasn’t the least surprised by her answer.
People with Beastman Cognitive Disorder couldn’t be communicated with through conventional thinking.
From her reply, he could roughly confirm how the two of them interacted.
Basically, one was reckless, and the other was perfectly willing to let her be reckless.
For now, he didn’t have to worry about her safety.
With their mental power compatibility hitting a full one hundred percent, her very presence had an immense soothing effect on that beastman. By her side, no matter how unstable the other’s genes were, the chance of going berserk would be reduced to the bare minimum.
Jin Chuyun followed her lead: “Mm, that’s fortunate. Sounds like you two get along well.”
Jiang Ying’s eyes curved with smile.
“Mm-hmm, I really like A Heng.”
She paused, then added, “He likes me a lot too.”
Just the kind of fondness she had for a pet dog.
Jin Chuyun once again confirmed this from her tone and expression.
As for what that man was thinking, he didn’t care.
The two of them chatted idly for a while longer about their daily interactions.
When he heard her descriptions of their intimate contact, Jin Chuyun frowned ever so slightly, but he didn’t remark on it.
A psychologist only guides a patient to think—he never makes decisions for them.
And outside of this professional role, the boundaries between them… were, for the time being, none of his business either.
This one-sided, unconscious “dog training” on Jiang Ying’s part didn’t seem to affect her much, anyway.
If something were to cross the line, given the severity of her cognitive disorder, she probably wouldn’t allow it to happen herself.
When it really came to that…
If she couldn’t handle it, then he would settle it for her.
Jin Chuyun repeated the same words he’d said to her at the banquet hall, as a closing summary.
“Mm, interacting with beastmen more often will help with your condition to some extent.”
Jiang Ying responded with an “Oh,” then asked, “What should I do exactly?”
Jin Chuyun pushed up the glasses on the bridge of his nose—he only ever wore those gold-rimmed glasses during sessions.
Most people developed Beastman Cognitive Disorder due to artificial factors.
The cause of this illness basically stemmed from intense psychological suggestion imposed on the patient from the outside.
Those with strong willpower were less affected; the weaker the will, the deeper the suggestion took hold. And these very people were the easiest for the Extreme Resistance Faction to brainwash and recruit.
Once the psychological suggestion was already in place, actively resisting it only increased the risk of mental backlash.
At present, there was no implementable cure for this type of psychological illness. The only option was to rely on a psychologist to help guide the patient’s emotions, preventing their cognitive disorder from veering in an even more extreme direction, and to depend on the patient’s own will to fight against the suggestion rooted in their heart.
“Don’t try to overthink anything or force yourself to do anything. Just interact naturally.”
Jin Chuyun continued, “The fact that you’ve taken the step of hiring a beastman guide dog is already huge progress.”
That was probably true.
She’d always meant to buy a beastman guide dog, but she’d kept putting it off until three whole years had passed.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t saved up enough money; she just seemed vaguely resistant.
She didn’t know how to interact with beastmen. She didn’t know what changes bringing a new life into her daily routine would bring.
And she didn’t know whether the other party would accept someone like her, with Beastman Cognitive Disorder.
But none of those worries existed anymore.
I’m so glad I brought Su Heng home, Jiang Ying thought happily.
She finally had her own dog now.
Jiang Ying finished the last sip of her tea and heard the sound of Jin Chuyun removing his glasses.
That signified the end of today’s session.
She didn’t have much else to talk to Jin Chuyun about beyond the consultation, so she said goodbye and prepared to leave.
As she stood up from the sofa, she suddenly remembered something. “Oh, right, where’s A Lan? He told me before that he’d see me today.”
With a faint sound, Jin Chuyun folded the arms of his glasses and placed them on the tea table.
He rose to see her off, his expression as calm as ever as he smiled. “He’s fallen ill. He can’t come to see you for now.”
“Huh…”
Jiang Ying was somewhat disappointed. Of course, that disappointment was strictly aimed at “not being able to pet the clinic’s dog.”
Jin Chuyun took in her expression. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious. He’ll be fine after a bit of rest.”
Since he wasn’t her dog after all, Jiang Ying didn’t dwell on it further.
“Then see you next time, Doctor Jin.”
“Next time?”
Jin Chuyun stood by the door, his fingers resting on a storage cabinet beside it. His index finger lightly tapped against it, and for once, he cracked a joke at her. “Mm, let’s hope this ‘next time’ isn’t after another month of vanishing.”
Jiang Ying awkwardly twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “N-no, I won’t… I’ll come right after I finish work!”
“Just kidding. Off you go. I won’t see you out.”
“Mm-hmm.”
She waved and stepped out by herself.
She’d been coming here for treatment for three years, so she knew the place like the back of her hand. Even blind, she could walk through it sideways. The fact that he didn’t escort her out actually felt like a form of respect.
Jin Chuyun watched Jiang Ying leave, and only then took out his phone. “Come in.”
A few minutes later, A Lanyin strode into the consultation room, his expression dark.
“She left?”
“Just now.”
“I don’t see why I can’t meet her.”
The white-haired wolf-man circled the consultation room, sniffing everywhere for her scent. Finally, he settled into the spot where she had sat, wrapping himself in pheromones that smelled like catnip. “My cognitive disorder isn’t that severe, is it? I wouldn’t go so far as to eat her.”
Jin Chuyun’s tone remained refined.
“You might not eat her, no. At most, you’d kneel at her feet and shamelessly beg her to let you be her dog.”
A Lanyin didn’t bat an eye. “So what if I would?”
Jin Chuyun collected the teacup Jiang Ying had left on the table.
One second later, and A Lanyin would have probably taken it for himself.
“You’re already a Commander of the Federation. Show some restraint and don’t give people anything to talk about.” He paused. “It wouldn’t be good for you, nor for her.”
“Tch. If you’re worried about her, don’t drag me into it. That surface act is for outsiders to see; in private, you don’t have to fake brotherly affection with me.”
The white wolf leaned back on the sofa and blew a puff of air up at his own bangs. “Don’t worry, this illness of mine only applies to her. You know perfectly well—I’ve only ever been interested in being her dog.”
Unlike most patients, A Lanyin’s cognitive disorder was self-induced and intermittent.
The trigger was Jiang Ying; the cause was unknown.
He could correctly perceive what a beastman was, yet when the episode hit, he would still firmly believe that he was her dog.
Jin Chuyun shook his head helplessly, pulled up the surveillance feed of the clinic lobby, and reminded him gently.
“She already has her own dog now.”
Jiang Ying found her dog in the clinic lobby.
Well, “found” wasn’t quite right—Su Heng had been waiting here for her the whole time.
She immediately threw herself into his arms, her entire body reeking of another man’s scent.
A beastman’s sense of smell was far too keen.
She and Jin Chuyun had been in the same room for quite a while; it was only natural that traces of his pheromones lingered on her.
The scent of a mountain rainstorm.
Not just pheromones from that man, but also similar smells simulated through other means.
Carelessness, or was it deliberate?
Su Heng didn’t know.
He didn’t want to admit that he was jealous. At the same time, though, he was startled to realize that smelling a scent on her that didn’t belong to him could make him so deeply displeased.
In the end, he couldn’t hold back. He lowered his head and licked the little dimple on one side of her cheek, covering it with his own scent.
Not enough. Still far, far from enough.
He wanted to leave his mark on every single inch of her body.
“Huh?”
This time, his lick was a little impatient, not as restrained as before. Jiang Ying froze. “Is something wrong?”
He always seemed to be licking her.
When she’d thought he was sick, he’d licked her neck; when he said he was hungry, he’d leaned in and licked her eyelid. And now, for no apparent reason, he’d licked her cheek.
So strange.
She wanted to figure out what was going on with him, but the beastman before her had already bent down toward her again.
“Don’t move.”
Su Heng held her by her shoulders.
He swept a glance at the surveillance camera in front of them, a sharp warning in his eyes for whoever was watching from behind that lens.
And then, as if asserting his claim, he licked the dimple on her other cheek.