During the Qingming Festival, Beijing’s temperature dropped suddenly. The north wind howled like an unbridled wild horse. The wind stabbed at faces like needles, dust scattered like fog, and the world darkened until east and west became indistinguishable—perfectly fitting the season and occasion.
On this day, Lu Huaizheng went with Li Hongwen to pay respects to revolutionary martyrs at the Revolutionary Cemetery.
The Revolutionary Cemetery was originally the Lingfu Temple from the Yuan Dynasty, later changed to the Loyal Martyrs Shrine, and in 1970 renamed the Revolutionary Cemetery. Li Hongwen came every year, sometimes alone, sometimes bringing Lu Huaizheng. Outside the cemetery, verdant mountains stood tall, surrounded by ancient trees that stood day and night like old soldiers guarding this garden—the environment quiet, solemn, and dignified.
Few visitors were in the garden, just a scattered handful. Occasionally, one could hear the crisp birdsong circling coldly through the empty cemetery.
Lu Huaizheng followed Li Hongwen for a full circuit. The two men walked slowly as if taking a stroll. Li Hongwen walked with hands behind his back, stopping on a small bridge. He leaned on the bridge post, gazing into the distance where emerald mountains filled his vision, his expression quite moved.
“Although I often joke with your Professor Han, I truly admire these academics. Like old Qian back then—if not for him, we might still be lagging in national defense and aviation.” Li Hongwen glanced at Lu Huaizheng, his hand loosening then tightening on the bridge post as he sighed and smiled. “I always tell my son to study hard so he can become a person useful to society, but your sister-in-law keeps saying my thinking is stubborn, that times have changed.”
At this, he turned to face Lu Huaizheng, his eyes fixed firmly on him. “I just smiled then. Indeed, times have changed, but this matter—those of us who have been on the battlefield understand clearly in our hearts. Society is still this society. It’s just that what we enjoy was exchanged for the loyal bones buried beneath this ground. ‘Honor the deceased and remember the distant past’—how many people today can truly live by these four characters?”
“Doing no harm to society and causing no trouble is already rare enough,” Lu Huaizheng said softly.
Li Hongwen smiled, patted him on the shoulder, sighed as if reminiscing, and spoke no more.
After returning from Babaoshan, Lu Huaizheng and Li Hongwen spent two more days in intensive meetings until Turkey officially announced they had thwarted the coup and begun military trials. Once the embassy alert was completely lifted, Lu Huaizheng prepared to pack his things and return to Yunnan with Chen Rui.
However, on the second day before departure.
Li Hongwen called him to his office. “Come with me to Hunan first, then go directly from there.”
“What about Chen Rui?” Lu Huaizheng asked.
Li Hongwen kept his head down, gathering things. He swept everything on the desk together and put it in a drawer, as if about to depart immediately, and hurriedly said, “It doesn’t matter. Let him go back first.”
Then, suddenly realizing something, he picked up his things, raised his head, and glanced at him. “Are you in a hurry to get back?”
Lu Huaizheng turned his head away, scratching his eyebrow.
“No.”
Li Hongwen gave him a knowing look, neatly stacking all the documents in his hand, tapping them slowly on the desk, and said: “Come on now. It’s not that I won’t let you go back. Hunan is hosting a major military competition recently, and the leadership specifically asked me to go supervise. Meanwhile, they want you to compete as well.”
“Competition?”
Li Hongwen said: “Yes, competition. They lost on your turf last year and aren’t satisfied, are they? This year they specifically requested you to go. Let me tell you, don’t embarrass our regiment. Otherwise, don’t even think about getting married when you return.”
As he was leaving, he seemed to remember something and turned back to advise: “Don’t be too arrogant either. Hold back a bit. We’re all on the same side.”
……
Yunnan Military Region.
The day Zhao Dailin handed the psychological report to Yu Hao, she didn’t rush to open it, but carefully put it in a file folder. She remembered Sun Kai once saying that matters concerning Lu Huaizheng were confidential, and he dared not say much. But now, holding a report showing he had once undergone a psychological examination, Yu Hao felt intensely curious yet apprehensive. She was desperate to look, yet feared Lu Huaizheng would find out and be angry.
At lunch that day.
Zhao Dailin finally remembered to ask her, “Have you looked at it yet?”
Yu Hao’s chopsticks stood in her bowl as she hesitantly shook her head.
Zhao Dailin wasn’t surprised. With Yu Hao’s personality—appearing cold and detached but quite proper inside—she couldn’t do anything out of line. She was timid and didn’t think much.
“If you’re not going to look at it, give it back to me. Don’t occupy the toilet without using it.”
“I’ll look!”
Yu Hao silently shoveled the remaining rice in her bowl into her mouth, gulping it down in two bites, finishing her meal at unprecedented speed. Without waiting for Zhao Dailin, she carried her tray away.
After the girl walked away.
Sun Kai moved his tray next to Zhao Dailin, nodding toward Yu Hao’s retreating figure. “What’s wrong with that girl?”
Zhao Dailin didn’t answer, but without looking up asked: “You mentioned before that Lu Huaizheng received psychological treatment. Who provided the treatment at that time? Dr. Liu?”
Sun Kai thought for a moment. “Not Liu. Also, someone sent from outside. The leadership found someone specially for him. I heard it was a talented North Peking University graduate, tall, quite beautiful, and very young.”
“A Peking University graduate? What was the name?” Zhao Dailin asked casually.
“Let me think… Di…”
“Di Yanni?”
Sun Kai was startled, scratching his head. “What, you know her?”
Zhao Dailin smiled helplessly. The surname was uncommon, and among psychologists, the circle was small to begin with. The famous ones were naturally few, and just hearing “Peking University,” her mind had tensed. She hadn’t expected it was her.
“I know her somewhat, but Dr. Yu knows her better.” After speaking, Zhao Dailin put down her chopsticks, leaned back, and instinctively reached for cigarettes in her pocket to satisfy her craving. But the quick-handed Sun Kai slapped her hand away. “Are you asking for a beating? You dare smoke in the cafeteria?”
Zhao Dailin realized her mistake, gave an embarrassed smile, and obediently put the cigarettes back in her pocket. She shook her head and sighed: “There’s a saying, ‘enemies cross narrow paths.'”
Sun Kai was thoroughly confused and had no time to figure out her mumbling. He sternly warned: “Next time I see you smoking in the cafeteria, I’ll show you what ‘enemies cross narrow paths’ really means.”
“Yes, yes, yes, Captain Sun.”
Zhao Dailin apologized quickly, nodding and bowing.
Sun Kai was quite pleased and walked away proudly with his tray.
Meanwhile, Yu Hao returned to the department and spread the report on her desk.
Before reading further, Yu Hao already saw a familiar name signed as an evaluator: Di Yanni.
She was a classmate from her remedial class, and their relationship could be described as incompatible. More accurately, Di Yanni was at odds with everyone and loved challenging her the most.
Even gentle Ding Xian wasn’t friendly toward Di Yanni. Seeing the name, Yu Hao’s heart grew uneasy, and her eyes quickly scanned down—
Below are comparative experimental diagrams.
One set was Lu Huaizheng’s, and the other was Sun Kai’s.
Sun Kai’s group served as the control, presumably representing healthy psychology, while Lu Huaizheng’s group was labeled “PTSD group.”
Lu Huaizheng’s target latency index was over 400 in March of that year.
After four months of treatment, it recovered to over 300, still higher than Sun Kai’s, but within the normal range.
At the end of the report, Di Yanni recorded Lu Huaizheng’s treatment responses:
March 2014: Unable to fire weapons normally or participate in training. April 2014: Habitual vomiting, unable to eat. May 2014: The vomiting sensation disappeared, and mental disorders and hallucinations appeared. June 2014: Hallucinations disappeared, and insomnia. July 2014: Partial memory loss. ……
Each month brought new symptoms and conditions. With each line she read, Yu Hao found it harder to continue. Her heart felt as if gripped by an invisible hand, even her breathing became lighter.
The report recorded details through the end of December, in Di Yanni’s characteristically cold style, devoid of emotion. With patients, she always preferred complex cases. Once during a speech, she had said: “Any patient exhibiting psychological symptoms is a laboratory mouse in medical history. In psychological treatment, one must dare to practice. If you’re timid, you’ll never get fresh answers.”
At that time, a student disagreed and raised his hand to challenge her view: “Medicine isn’t an ordinary field. What do you mean by ‘boldness’? Are you bold in prescriptions or research? If bold in prescriptions, have you considered the patient’s physical condition?”
Yu Hao remembered clearly how Di Yanni had responded.
She had replied confidently and spiritedly: “Please understand, being bold with prescriptions doesn’t mean abusing medication. I hope that in modern China, everyone can have the spirit of daring to sacrifice for science. The first person to eat a crab didn’t know if it was poisonous, right?”
That passionate speech had prompted thunderous applause from the students, echoing through the entire hall, seemingly witnessing the rise of a new star in the field of psychology.
Zhao Dailin had told Yu Hao then that Di Yanni’s crazy scientific spirit would surely cause problems someday.
Sure enough, shortly after, Di Yanni left the psychology research institute.
Zhao Dailin had to ask around through contacts to learn that a patient’s family had complained she prescribed excessive sleeping pills and morphine. Di Yanni’s brother had found sympathetic media to suppress the story, so only insiders discussed it privately. Everyone knew Di Yanni was crazy, but no one dared cross her.
When Zhao Dailin came in, Yu Hao had just put away the file folder.
She walked over. “Finished looking?”
Yu Hao nodded.
“What was the issue?”
“Post-traumatic stress disorder.”
Zhao Dailin then asked, “The attending physician?”
Yu Hao crossed her arms and looked up at her with reproachful eyes, and Zhao Dailin immediately understood, nearly speaking in unison with her.
“Di Yanni?”
“Di Yanni.”
Zhao Dailin grabbed her hair and cursed under her breath.
Yu Hao lowered her head and said quietly: “Reading her analysis report, do you know how I felt? Lu Huaizheng was a patient with mild non-dissociative PTSD, but in her March diagnostic report, she wrote ‘dissociative PTSD patient.’ Even a fool knows dissociative cases are much more serious, and his VEP index was only slightly higher than normal people’s.” At this, Yu Hao slammed the report on the table, furious: “And what did she do? In March, she prescribed dosages for dissociative type. Then in April, he developed vomiting, and she still didn’t realize her mistake. In May’s report, she was still prescribed large doses. Look at June—she even started using morphine! Can’t Di Yanni live without morphine?!”