"Director Li, then what should we do to help her recover?" Zhang Wan asked, gently patting Fu Qingdai as she spoke.
Su Jin met her gaze directly. "In truth, the adjustment isn't particularly complex. But before we speak of treatment, we must first confront the root of the problem. What she's experiencing isn't solely the fault of school—much of it stems from the two of you."
"Your behavior just now, for instance, only exacerbates her condition."
"Huh?" Zhang Wan faltered, caught off guard. "Kids these days are just too delicate. Back in our time—"
"That's another part of the problem."
"…"
Su Jin sighed softly. "Vladimir Zukon once said, there is but one truly serious philosophical question, and that is suicide. Humanity survives by clinging to meaning."
The couple sat in rapt attention, eyes fixed on him.
"She already lost her sense of purpose from the blow she took at school. And now at home, she's further misunderstood by her parents. Naturally, the problem worsens. If this persists, it could lead to intense suicidal ideation, even hallucinations. Fortunately, she hasn't crossed that threshold yet, so the damage remains manageable—but you must take action, and tread carefully."
"She's already having hallucinations, Director Li! What should we do? When can she return to school?" Zhang Wan gasped in alarm, while Fu Hu's face paled visibly.
"Wuuu—!" Fu Qingdai suddenly let out a long, piercing wail, echoing like an emergency siren.
"Stop mentioning school, will you?" Su Jin shot Zhang Wan a sidelong glance. "Do you have any idea how much harm you've caused without even realizing it? It's already this severe, and you still haven't intervened. Hallucinations, Fu Madam—there are scarcely a handful of psychologists in Longshan capable of handling this. Frankly, our country is severely lacking in this field."
"Then... do you have anyone to recommend?" Fu Hu swallowed nervously.
"I just returned to Longshan; I'm not familiar with the local experts," Su Jin shook his head. "My mentor would've been ideal… but, alas, he passed away last year."
"Then... can you treat her?" Zhang Wan asked outright.
"Don't be ridiculous. Director Li isn't a doctor, and he certainly doesn't have time to play one," Fu Hu chided, then turned to Su Jin with a more respectful tone. "That being said… Director, could you perhaps guide us? Help us understand what we should do?"
"What to do… That's not something I can summarize in a few words," Su Jin sighed, then added, "How about this—since we're just across the hall from each other, and I'm usually home around the same time as you both, I can spare some evenings. If it's easier, she can come over to my place, or I can come here—it's no trouble among neighbors."
"I'll spend two hours each night helping her unwind. After about a week, she should be ready to return to class. Encourage her to do more physical activity too—dancing, singing, movement. Once she regains some balance, you'll find it much easier to support her recovery."
"Truly? Oh my goodness, thank you! Thank you so much, Director Li!" Zhang Wan exclaimed, rising from her seat in excitement.
"Not Director Li—Director Su!" Fu Hu jumped up as well, shooting her a glare, and raised his glass. "Director Su, I toast to you! I'm just a rough fellow, all my gratitude's in this drink!"
With that, he downed it in one gulp.
Fu Qingdai kept her head low, mortified beyond words.
"Let's not be so formal. Half a month from now, you can start calling me Director Su," Su Jin replied with a soft smile, then glanced at the girl. "More importantly, we should respect her wishes, don't you think?"
"Qingdai, would you be willing to chat with me in the evenings? No pressure—just a simple conversation."
Fu Qingdai pressed her lips together and gave a small nod.
"Then it's settled." Su Jin spread his hands, beaming at the couple. "I'll come by tomorrow. Until then, let's enjoy the rest of the evening."
...
The script had been written long ago, and the prey had walked straight into the trap.
From that point on, the conversation flowed under Su Jin's complete control. The mere unveiling of his modified Mi 6 phone dazzled the couple so thoroughly, they could hardly think straight.
Not to mention Fu Qingdai occasionally chimed in with perfectly timed, pre-planned questions to bolster his carefully crafted persona.
And for the questions he couldn't answer? There was always the same reply:
"Classified. No comment."
An hour later, the meal concluded.
Su Jin gathered his things, discreetly slipping the 231.5 yuan that Fu Qingdai had secretly stuffed into his hand, and made his way to the door.
Fu Hu stood there holding it open.
His tanned face was visibly flushed, a silly smile plastered across it—clearly, he'd had more than a few drinks.
"Director Li, I really can't express how happy I am to have met you tonight. Honestly, if it weren't for you, I would've kept thinking the higher-ups only gave me lip service when I left the army. I never expected they held me in such high regard!"
"And my daughter… I wouldn't even know how to thank you for what you've done. If there's ever anything I can help with—anything at all—just say the word."
Su Jin waved it off. "There will be something I'll need your help with eventually, but nothing serious. Don't stress over it. Now go on, close the door, I'll be heading back."
"Wait, Director Li!" Fu Hu called out, voice rising slightly.
"Yes?"
"I… I…" Fu Hu hesitated, tongue thick with hesitation, "I was wondering, about that… National Risk Bureau…"
He trailed off, unable to bring himself to say the word "job."
Su Jin paused, then smiled knowingly. "Old Fu, there's no need for formality between us. It's only natural to want to move up in life. You were going to ask if I could help you get a job there, right?"
Fu Hu nodded sheepishly.
They were already on such good terms—and this man clearly had the goods. A true expert, an elite. There was no doubt about his identity.
Sure, Fu Hu had already benefited plenty from this relationship… but that 10,000-yuan starting salary—how could he not want that?
"Old Fu, I won't lie to you. I can help, but I can't promise anything just yet. I don't know exactly what positions are open at the moment. Give me until tomorrow—I'll let you know."
"That'd be amazing! Thank you, Director Li. Have a good night!"
With repeated thanks, Fu Hu finally closed the door.
Su Jin turned, stepped to his own door, and pulled out his key.
Behind him, the muffled, joyous chatter from the Fu family spilled through the wood—cheerful and shrill, echoing down the hall.
Click—the overhead light flicked off, plunging the corridor into darkness.
Only Su Jin's deep, ragged breaths remained.
His hand, still holding the key, dropped limply to his side.
He swayed slightly, then leaned his forehead against the cold metal door, eyes shut, a long sigh escaping his lips.
His chest felt hollow.
He missed home.
He used to dread going home for the holidays.
But this time... this time he missed it—deeply, achingly.
He exhaled several long, uneven breaths, wiped the corners of his eyes, then opened the door and stepped inside.
...
The city was cloaked in dark clouds, lashed by icy wind.
Sheets of rain swept through the alleys between buildings.
The streets were a barren wasteland… populated only by the walking dead.
Rotting corpses wandered aimlessly across the broken concrete.
Crouched at the corner of a street, Su Jin observed the surroundings from beneath a raincoat.
Suddenly—behind him—a zombie let out a guttural groan and lunged!
Su Jin whipped around, just in time to see a gaping, blood-soaked maw flying toward his face.
"F*ck!!"
Eyes wide with fury, Su Jin lunged forward, jaws open, biting back at the undead.
...
"Ghhh—!!"
He jolted awake, drenched in sweat, clutching his throat and gasping for air like a drowning man.
His throat felt like it was packed with razor blades.
The sheets beneath him bore the dark imprint of his sweat-soaked form.
After several deep breaths, his heart finally began to slow. He rubbed his face hard.
A dream… Clearly a sign of mounting mental strain.
Reaching to the side, his fingers found his notebook. He flipped it open instantly.
The grain depot would be delivering supplies tonight.
Tomorrow, he needed to stock up on more essentials… In the morning, he'd practice at the slaughterhouse. The rest could wait till the afternoon.
He had to adapt—quickly.
He had to desensitize himself before it was too late.
He could not afford to crack. If his mind collapsed, everything would fall with it.
Muttering a few silent affirmations to himself, Su Jin looked up.
His bloodshot eyes landed on the calendar taped to the opposite wall, each date crossed out in bold red ink.
Only three days remained… until the end of the world.