Chapter 15: Director Hao's Birthday

Inside Ward 666, all the equipment had been confiscated. Previously, Lin Fan could at least lift weights, punch the sandbag, and exercise his body, but now, there was nothing.

This left Lin Fan, after finishing his cola, feeling like the sky had fallen. His heart felt empty and lonely. His familiar companions were all gone.

"Are you unhappy?" Old Man Zhang patted Lin Fan's shoulder. Seeing Lin Fan's unhappiness, he pouted, also very unhappy.

"Yeah." Lin Fan was sad. Those were his buddies, and now his buddies were gone.

Old Man Zhang rummaged through the room, half his body disappearing into the drawers, searching for a long time. Joyfully, he exclaimed, "Found them! I found them!"

Two pieces of paper and a marker.

Old Man Zhang placed the paper on the bed, laid down on his stomach, and busied himself with something.

"Eh!"

"Lin Fan, how do you write 'barbell'?" Old Man Zhang scratched his head, troubled.

Lin Fan lay down beside him, his expression serious, pondering for a long time. "I don't know either."

"I remember I used to know how to write it." Old Man Zhang pouted, frowning, the marker hovering over the paper. After a long pause, inspiration struck, and he patted Lin Fan's shoulder. "I've got it!"

"Someone next door told me that images are the truest things."

Rustle, rustle!

Old Man Zhang drew a barbell on the paper.

[o—o]

"Look, what does my drawing look like?" Old Man Zhang proudly pointed at the drawing on the paper and asked.

Lin Fan calmly replied, "A barbell."

"Exactly! We can recognize it, so those people will definitely understand. After all, they don't seem too stupid," Old Man Zhang said.

Lin Fan praised, "You're so amazing!"

Old Man Zhang shook his head smugly. "Of course! Watch this, a sandbag is even easier to draw."

After some maneuvering, a drawing appeared on the paper.

[0]

"Look, what's this?" Old Man Zhang pointed at the paper and asked again. He enjoyed being praised, especially by Lin Fan.

Lin Fan exclaimed, "A sandbag!"

"Correct! It's a sandbag! Didn't I draw it well? I told you, I used to be very talented in drawing. If I were a painter, those so-called masters would all be my disciples and grandchildren," Old Man Zhang said confidently.

"Yes, it's so realistic!" Lin Fan said.

Old Man Zhang gave one of the pieces of paper to Lin Fan, then raised his own high above his head. "Let's go protest! Let's make them return the barbell and sandbag to us. Those are our things!"

The door of Ward 666 opened.

For all the doctors at Green Mountain Mental Hospital, this ward was their biggest worry. You never knew what they would come up with.

Lin Fan and Old Man Zhang walked down the corridor, holding their signs high.

"We want this!"

They shouted in unison, as if they had rehearsed hundreds of times, without a single mistake.

In another ward, a mental patient was using a sausage as a ruler to teach a class to several other patients, explaining the infinite mysteries of the vast starry sky.

He was called Professor Starry Sky.

Old Man Zhang's Galaxy Rotation Technique was created under his guidance.

Professor Starry Sky was furious. He noticed that his students were distracted by the noise outside. He smacked a student's head with the sausage. "Pay attention to the lesson!"

The mental patient students cowered, pretending to be attentive, their eyes occasionally glancing outside.

Professor Starry Sky turned his head to look outside and said angrily, "All of you stay here! I'll go teach them a lesson."

The mental patient students watched the professor go out, their eyes glued to him. Then, through the window, they saw Professor Starry Sky also raise his hand and join the chant, following behind…

He even waved to the students in the ward, his lips moving.

Although the people inside couldn't hear him, the meaning was clear.

"Come out, this is more fun!"

In the director's office, Director Hao was in a good mood, a container of ice cream in front of him.

He said to himself, 'Director Hao, happy birthday.'

Then, spoonful after spoonful, he ate the ice cream. It was sweet and refreshing, a truly leisurely day.

He was also very relaxed.

No one was trying to flatter him.

Because he was the director of Green Mountain Mental Hospital, who would ask him for favors?

If someone did ask him for a favor, he would be very surprised.

"What? You have a mental illness? Don't worry, I'm the director. I'll definitely prioritize arranging a beautiful room for you, so you'll live comfortably and never miss home."

If someone committed a serious crime and needed his help, hoping to pull some strings and get a mental illness diagnosis…

He would absolutely agree.

He'd personally oversee it.

At the suspect's suggestion, he'd write:

"Extremely dangerous individual, poses a significant threat to society, recommends euthanasia or permanent confinement."

The country took the recommendations of a leading mental hospital director like him very seriously.

Once, he had used his power to do just that. Although he felt it went against his professional responsibilities, he felt so sorry for the mother who wasn't mentally well.

The child was too young, and no one believed what he said.

The stubborn rich second-generation kid had money and power, and had connections all the way to him. He initially didn't want to get involved, but he had followed the news and seen the arrogant young man with his own eyes.

His desire for a peaceful life was stirred.

In the end, he issued a diagnosis that decided the young man's fate.

At the same time, he told the young man, "Just keep telling everyone that you're not mentally ill."

"If you say you're mentally ill, people won't believe you. Only if you say you're not mentally ill will they believe you."

That incident had an impact on Director Hao. The young man's family threatened to take his life.

Director Hao was full of questions.

"Do you even know what you're saying?"

He knew high-ranking officials in Maoshan, Taoism, Buddhism, and the medical field. Why?

Well, that story started thirty years ago.

It was a rainy night… Cuihua stood at his door, soaked to the bone.

No, that's wrong.

It was that those high-ranking officials, in their younger days, were all cultivation fanatics, and didn't want to be disturbed by higher education courses. Many of them came to him, hoping for a mental illness diagnosis so they could cultivate in peace, undisturbed.

Director Hao, righteous and chivalrous, readily obliged.

'This patient requires an extremely quiet environment and must not be disturbed, otherwise, it will have a significant impact on their condition, especially theoretical courses, which are the most dangerous.'

A perfect maneuver.

Then, when those guys wanted to come out of seclusion, he would write again:

'Under my meticulous treatment, the patient has recovered and is no different from a normal person.'

Now, those people had become high-ranking officials.

If Director Hao encountered trouble, they couldn't not help him. Who knew what that big-mouthed Director Hao might say to the media? While it wouldn't have a huge impact on them, it would still be a blemish on their reputations.

Knock, knock, knock!

"Come in," Director Hao said, holding the empty ice cream container, which he had licked clean. It was so delicious.

A doctor rushed in. "Director, it's bad! The patients in Ward 666 are revolting! They've even stirred up other patients, and now they're shouting in the corridor…"

Director Hao's eyes widened.

This was interesting.

"Can't you just leave me alone? I only have ten years until retirement! I want to retire healthy, not die of exhaustion here."