A Lunatic Says He Loves Me: Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Happy City 1

After leaving the treatment room, Han Rong didn’t go to see Chen Sheng. He made up a lie to fool Ling Feng, sent him off on an errand, and then slipped away through the back door.

Right now, he didn’t want to see anyone or say anything. In fact, when someone who has been in chaos for seven years suddenly returns to normal, they can’t adapt immediately and just want some quiet time. He went to the airport and took an overnight flight back to his southern hometown, heading straight to the family cemetery.

He stood alone in front of his mother’s tombstone, staring at the woman in the photo until his legs stiffened and his knees began to ache uncontrollably. Then, in a low voice, he finally spoke.

“Mom, I’m back.”

His mother still looked radiant, but her lively spirit was forever gone. His throat choked up, and he lost the ability to speak.

He truly felt he had been unfilial.

He hadn’t been present at her burial and had never come to visit her grave since. Those seven years passed in a haze, and when he was sane, he didn’t dare think about her; when he was mad, he couldn’t remember her. He thought if his mother knew how he had lived so recklessly, she would probably scold him harshly while her heart ached, shedding tears.

Han Rong tilted his head back, pinching his nose to stave off the ache. Once his emotions had calmed, he bent down and picked a small white flower growing in front of the tombstone.

“I’ll come see you again another day.”

Han Rong descended the steps, and at the end, he saw an exceptionally handsome man, tall with sharp eyebrows, thin lips, and bright black eyes.

Han Rong suddenly recalled how Chen Sheng always topped the list of the most handsome boys during their school days. During breaks, he often overheard girls whispering about how Chen Sheng’s eyes held a lotus lamp, gentle and intoxicating.

“Ling Feng told me you ran away, and I guessed you’d be here.”

“You’d definitely come here after waking up.” He spoke with certainty, his demeanor and tone reflecting the confidence of an old acquaintance.

“Long time no see, Chen Sheng.”

Han Rong smiled and greeted him like a familiar guest.

Chen Sheng looked directly into his eyes. “I have a lot to tell you.”

“Hmm, go ahead.”

“I never betrayed you. That junior was just a smokescreen to deceive my father. He didn’t like you, and I didn’t want him to hurt you.”

“Hmm.”

“When I learned you were ill, I brought in the top doctors in the country, including Ji Yan. I didn’t know he had ulterior motives, nor did I know he would use his position to hypnotize you and worsen your condition. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him.”

“Hmm.”

“For the past seven years, I’ve been looking for you, but I was never allowed to visit.”

“Hmm.”

“I…” Chen Sheng felt he had countless things to say, but didn’t know where to start. After being at a loss for words for a long time, he finally spoke carefully and sincerely, “Can we start over?”

Han Rong smiled and shook his head. He saw Chen Sheng’s eyes dim in an instant, like a lotus lamp extinguished. He heard Chen Sheng ask in a steady voice, “Why?”

“Perhaps you should ask yourself whether you still love me or if you’re just unwilling to accept it.”

Before Chen Sheng could respond, Han Rong interrupted him.

“It’s been seven years, Chen Sheng.” Han Rong approached him, placing the flower he had just picked into the pocket of Chen Sheng’s shirt. He smiled lightly, “No matter how much you love, the curtain has fallen.”

With that, he turned decisively, his hands in his pockets, and walked away slowly, his slender and upright figure both graceful and elegant.

At that moment, Chen Sheng understood that Han Rong had truly returned.

Only he no longer belonged to him.

Chen Sheng pursed his lips, a faint and bitter smile on his face, “Why don’t you believe that I still truly love you…”

The words of affection that came too late to be spoken could only slowly dissipate over the long seven years, or perhaps be spoken to the cold wind.

After laying everything bare, Han Rong no longer hated Chen Sheng. After all, they had once given their true hearts to each other; it was only fitting that it end with some dignity. But he really didn’t want to see Chen Sheng again, didn’t want anyone to remind him of the past regrets of his youth, or to remember the fact that he had lost his mother.

It would be better if he was still crazy now.

Suddenly, Han Rong had a terrifying and ridiculous thought.

He smiled lightly, thinking that even a madman has his own joys. It’s just that ordinary people don’t understand.

On the flight back, Han Rong thought he might be ill. After being normal for less than 24 hours, he found himself missing those days of madness, intoxicated and lost in dreams, which had been addictive.

Returning to his apartment, worn and weathered, he found no warm lights, no prepared meals, and no cozy bed. He threw himself onto the bed, pulled the covers over him, and fell asleep immediately.

He remembered someone once telling him that after a good sleep, everything would get better.

But it wasn’t.

Han Rong slept fitfully, falling out of bed in the middle of the night and hitting his head on the floor, causing a bump. He held his forehead, gritting his teeth in anger, and muttered softly, “Liar.”

The empty room remained cold and silent, with no one to respond.

****

Some people may appear to have a glamorous life on the surface, but in reality, they are in utter disarray.

Like Han Rong now.

He seemed to have become a life idiot, even managing to turn the simplest instant noodles into a dark culinary disaster. The takeout he ordered could no longer satisfy his suddenly delicate stomach, and everything he ate didn’t suit his taste, coming right back up after swallowing. Standing in front of the mirror, he touched his increasingly emaciated abs. To prevent his charm from diminishing, even if he had to stuff himself with anything, he had to keep eating.

“Ugh…”

One minute after finishing a KFC family bucket, Han Rong ran to the bathroom, clutching the toilet, and vomited until the world spun. Exhausted, he lay on the cold bathroom floor, his wandering gaze brushing over the psychology book titled *Stockholm Syndrome* on the shelf, finally settling on the ceiling covered with little stars.

He remembered once having a five-year-old persona who would cling to someone, asking to pick stars. That someone climbed up a ladder and painted little stars all over the ceiling of their home with a colored pen.

“What is this…”

Han Rong lifted his hand to cover his eyes, feeling utterly drained.

He thought he might be really ill. After vomiting everything he ate, he started suffering from insomnia. A taut string in his mind snapped, his heart pounding violently. Despite the emptiness around him, he felt as if he could hear someone crying, heart-wrenching, and soul-piercing.

On a bright sunny day a month later, Han Rong, under the blazing sun, walked into a private psychological clinic with a good reputation online. He felt he would collapse if he didn’t receive effective treatment and relief soon. After waiting in line for two hours, he finally met the most prominent doctor at the clinic.

Han Rong pulled out a chair and sat down, smiling as he asked, “Isn’t the Serious Crimes Unit busy lately? How come you have time to work part-time?”

Bai Xinhui still maintained her ghostly, ethereal demeanor. After carefully examining Han Rong’s haggard face, she said, “You can share your troubles; I am willing to listen.”

“Alright.” Perhaps feeling resigned, Han Rong trusted this mortician-turned-forensic pathologist and psychologist’s words, and confessed, “I feel like I still forget many important things. I want to recover lost memories through hypnosis.”

Bai Xinhui pondered, “The characteristic of dream control therapy is its specificity. Patients who have been hypnotized with ‘dream control’ cannot receive psychological counseling or mental treatment from another doctor. Therefore, the path you suggested won’t work. But I believe, since these are your own memories, no one is more qualified than you to control and possess them. Instead of relying on external forces, it’s better to seek help from yourself.”

“You’re right.” Han Rong nodded in agreement, stood up to take his leave, and smiled as he said, “Thank you for your professional advice. Goodbye.”

After returning to his apartment, Han Rong stood in front of the full-length mirror with a fruit knife in hand. He still remembered how he had used self-hypnosis seven years ago to split into another persona. At that time, he repeatedly inflicted cuts on himself while recalling his mother’s tragic death, forcing himself to immerse in the bloody memories and constantly giving himself mental suggestions, “Three elements of criminal profiling, binary crime classification, three elements of geographical profiling…”

Naturally, in the end, a perverted persona was born.

Han Rong stared at his reflection in the mirror for a while, then carefully cleaned the fruit knife before walking to the living room. He sat on the sofa and peeled an apple. He wasn’t crazy; he wouldn’t harm himself again. Back then, blinded by hatred, he had come up with extremely unsafe self-hypnosis methods, leading to a series of messy and troublesome issues.

There was no way he would let history repeat itself.

Moreover, this time, he wasn’t seeking revenge but wanted to uncover the truth.

After slowly finishing the apple and wiping his hands clean, Han Rong reclined on the sofa. He gazed at the ceiling, trying to clear his mind as much as possible, while repeating mental suggestions.

“I want to find all parts of myself… from childhood to now, every detail, without missing a single piece.”

The calm, soothing voice echoed in the living room, and one by one, the quiet little stars suddenly emitted a soft, yellowish light, as if coming to life, dancing around him hand in hand.

It was very joyful, filled with childlike innocence.

Han Rong gradually closed his eyes.

He found himself in a cartoon castle filled with laughter and joy. The gatekeepers were two adorable cheese cats. They were busy munching on dried fish, too preoccupied and disinterested to stop Han Rong from entering the castle.

Upon entering the castle, Han Rong saw the vast palace that held all his memories, still a swirling corridor with locked rooms. He reached out to touch the doorframe, repeatedly convincing himself, “The person behind the door is me. No matter what happens, I will not be afraid or resist.”

As if the passphrase had worked, the door opened with a creak, the lock still intact. Han Rong was puzzled and reached out to touch it, only to find it was a painted-on door lock, so realistic it could pass for a genuine one.

Inside the room, “Han Rong” was sitting in front of a computer, typing away. The writing persona had a slight social aversion, detesting crowds.

“Even though the world outside is filled with monsters and demons, we can still live well on our own. And in the not-so-distant future, another person will appear to accompany you through the unfinished journey of life. He will cook the meals you love, unconditionally tolerate your bad temper, always leave a light on for you no matter how late you come home, and he will never make you feel lonely or sad.”

“Now, come with me and see the new flowers blooming in the park.”

Han Rong extended his hand to the person in the room.

The person hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked out and took Han Rong’s hand.

Immediately, all the doors in the palace began to open one after another. The people inside rushed towards Han Rong, passing through his body and becoming part of his nerves, bones, and flesh.

Outside the castle, colorful butterflies fluttered, and drums and music played in celebration.

At that moment, Han Rong realized. This was a dreamland crafted specifically for him by the dream maker, not a prison holding a “prince.” Each bedroom had a lock that was merely decorative; as long as he wished, he could enter or leave at any time.

All along, the person who had confined him was himself.

The moment of celebration in the dreamland was also when Han Rong was willing to fully accept reality and embrace the past. All the “Han Rong”s, whether good or bad, would merge into one.

This was a beautiful farewell between Zhuangzi and the butterfly, and also the final dream left by the dream maker for the dreamer. After waking from the dream, Zhuangzi remained Zhuangzi. At this time, everyone would tell him it was just a grand dream, and the butterfly had never existed.

At this moment, fireworks exploded outside the castle, and as the festive atmosphere reached its peak, the dreamland gradually turned to dust.

The dream was over.

Han Rong was supposed to wake up.

The little stars on the ceiling, illuminated by the light, sparkled one by one. Though they were painted on, they looked as if they were real.

Han Rong had acquired the memories of all his personas and understood the course of events.

Extreme methods inevitably come with unpredictable side effects.

Everything started with his self-hypnosis. This highly purposeful and unified personality split allowed the primary and secondary personas to perceive each other. The secondary persona then grew more independent and aimed to replace the primary persona. When Han Rong realized he was increasingly unable to control the other persona, he tried self-hypnosis again to eliminate it. However, the secondary persona had discovered this in time and severed the connection between them.

During the hypnosis, Han Rong developed a third persona. No one was willing to be a mere appendage, and the third persona joined the struggle for dominance, leading to the creation of the fourth, fifth, and sixth personas…

Thinking he might still be able to salvage the situation, he searched online for the top psychiatric hospitals in the country and went to the First Hospital of Xuezhou City. While waiting for the elevator, he saw Ji Yan, who looked like a supermodel even in a plain white coat. As Han Rong marveled at his exceptionally handsome appearance, Ji Yan took the initiative to approach him.

“Hello, I noticed you were looking at me. Do you need any help?”

“…May I ask how to get to the psychiatric department?”

“It’s in the building behind us. I’ll take you there.”

“Thank you!”

Han Rong followed behind him, and as he watched Ji Yan’s upright figure, he couldn’t help but blurt out, “Doctor, you have quite a nice rear.”

“……”

Han Rong swore to the heavens that it was the sixth persona speaking just now. That was a flamboyant and lecherous character.

Meeting Ji Yan’s scrutinizing gaze, Han Rong gave a shy smile and said, “You might not believe it, but I have a lot of people inside me.”

To his surprise, Ji Yan didn’t doubt him. “I believe you. Your condition is quite rare. May I learn more about it? I am also a psychiatrist here.”

Of course, he didn’t mention that he was an intern.

“Sure.”

“……” The rapid agreement was also the work of the sixth persona.

“I’ll take you to the treatment room.”

Under the influence of blue windgrass, Han Rong soon fell into a deep sleep. Ji Yan turned off all the lights in the room, and the little stars on the ceiling flickered on and off. A gentle and clear voice slowly began to speak, like a gentle stream flowing across the heart.

“Why are you sad?”

Han Rong was silent for a long time before slowly speaking, struggling with the words: “My mother… passed away.”

“Do you want to see her again?”

This time, without hesitation, he answered firmly: “Yes.”

“I can let you see her, but you must give me your absolute trust.”

“Alright.”

“You are Han Rong, fifteen years old, studying at XX Middle School. As usual, you come home from school. Because you did well on this test, your mother is taking you to the newly built Dreamland in the city. Do you see it? That palace over there. Walk forward and don’t look back.”

A childlike, pure, and happy smile appeared on Han Rong’s face in his sleep.

Ji Yan gazed at him tenderly, and after a long time, glanced at his watch and softly said, “Han Rong, it’s getting dark. It’s time to go home.”

Han Rong frowned and shook his head repeatedly: “I don’t want to go home. I want to be with my mother!” As if remembering something, his features twisted, and his expression shifted between fierceness and pain.

Ji Yan softened his voice further and continued to comfort him: “Then stay here. It’s absolutely safe, and no one will harm you.”

The blatant possessiveness emerged, and Ji Yan closed his eyes filled with madness. He took Han Rong’s hand, slowly lowered his head, and placed a reverent, gentle kiss. When he opened his eyes again, they were filled only with serene tenderness and world-class gentleness.

“This castle is built for you, a lifetime of joy, never closing.”

TN:

Remember this only works in novels! If you meet someone like Ji Yan in real life, run the f*ck away and call the cops! 

Anyways, I’m tearing up Ji Yan is so sweet building a whole castle for Han Rong and his merry band of psychotic personalities🤧.

I rushed through these final chapters so that I could complete them within my leave days, so if you spot any mistakes kindly inform me.

If you're enjoying the story don't forget to support the author! You can also support me on KOFI for site maintenance, raws purchase or as an energy boost~ 

Join discord to get notified whenever a new chapter is uploaded since I'm  incapable of keeping up with a schedule~