The young man stood tall and poised, his smile gentle and apologetic, the golden frames of his glasses glinting as his long, peach-blossom eyes curved slightly. With each graceful movement, he smoothed out the wrinkles in his clothes. No one would have guessed that this was the same person who had just violently knocked a man to the ground.

It was surreal.

Xu Xiliu’s expression was utterly sincere.

What else could he have done?

The patient had clearly been in a state of mental confusion, lashing out indiscriminately. He had to prioritize his own safety, right? If the doctor died before even treating the patient, that would be a complete failure.

He blinked innocently.

The room was eerily silent.

Butler Zhong stared in shock, his gaze flickering between the man on the floor—lost in his own tormented world since his episode began—and Xu Xiliu, who stood there looking composed and polite as ever. The butler swallowed hard.

This doctor... was a little too hardcore!

Xu Xiliu blinked again. "Uncle Zhong... shouldn’t we check on Mr. Qin now?"

"Ah, right, right..."

Snapped out of his daze, Butler Zhong quickly regained his composure and carefully helped the disoriented Qin Li to his feet. Qin Li was a grown man, nearly 1.9 meters tall, and though illness had left him gaunt, his height still made him difficult to support. The butler struggled for a moment.

Xu Xiliu hurried forward to help, but before he could get close, the stunned servants reacted and rushed in, surrounding Qin Li and half-carrying, half-dragging him to the bed.

Xu Xiliu stopped in his tracks and observed them.

Now, he finally had a chance to take in the room.

It was in complete disarray—not just the people, but the furnishings as well.

Most of the decorations on the table had been knocked to the floor. Near the entrance lay the shattered remains of the glass that had been thrown at him, along with the overturned wheelchair. A puddle of water had spread across the floor, dotted with white pills that had begun to dissolve at the edges—evidence of a struggle that had clearly been going on for some time.

No doubt the result of the male lead stubbornly refusing to take his medication during an episode.

Amid the chaos, Xu Xiliu’s gaze traveled to the man on the bed.

The punch seemed to have left Qin Li momentarily stunned, and now he was quiet, his head slightly bowed, his brows still furrowed in pain. Thanks to the original owner’s memories—and the novel—Xu Xiliu knew that during episodes, the male lead suffered from excruciating headaches, hallucinations, and often engaged in self-destructive behavior, leaving himself covered in injuries. Now, as several burly servants lifted his frail body onto the bed, there was something undeniably pitiable about him.

Xu Xiliu sighed softly and walked over, unable to resist studying the man a little longer.

There was no denying that Qin Li had been blessed with an extraordinarily handsome face—high cheekbones, a straight nose, and thin lips. The light cast shadows across his features, accentuating their sharpness.

But his complexion was far too pale, his lips nearly colorless.

Dressed in dark silk pajamas, he looked utterly sickly.

His tall frame was long-limbed, but illness had left him painfully thin. It was hard to imagine what he might have looked like without the burden of his ailments—what kind of proud, commanding presence he might have had.

Xu Xiliu couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret.

What a waste.

But then again, this was the male lead. No matter how miserable he seemed now, his mental state would eventually improve. And judging by the novel’s cheesy plot, it would be the sunny, cheerful protagonist who would heal him with tender care—not Xu Xiliu, the personal physician who had worked tirelessly for so long.

Still, clichés aside, illness was something to be taken seriously. Xu Xiliu’s conscience wouldn’t allow him to do otherwise.

Just as his thoughts began to drift, another commotion broke out.

Without warning, the man who had been sitting quietly suddenly tensed, his face twisting in agony as he let out a hoarse, guttural growl. He thrashed violently, trying to break free from the hands restraining him.

His fingers were cut somewhere, fresh blood seeping from old wounds, dripping onto the floor. His eyes were wide and unfocused, filled with a feral, chilling rage—as if he wanted to drag the entire world down with him.

"Get out..."

"Get away from me!"

"Don’t touch me!"

His voice was low and rough, laced with venom, sending shivers down everyone’s spines. Outside, lightning flashed, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. Qin Li’s entire body stiffened, his struggles intensifying—as if he were on the verge of exploding into violence.

The servants panicked:

"He—he’s like this again! Hold him down!"

Xu Xiliu frowned, his sharp eyes catching their movements. Whether out of fear or clumsiness, the servants were handling Qin Li with shocking roughness, their actions chaotic and uncoordinated. One of them even had an arm pressed against his throat, making his already pale face flush red with suffocation, his handsome features contorted in pain.

Here was the man who should have been the shining heir of the Qin family, now reduced to hiding in a desolate mountain villa, tormented by illness—even the servants around him treated him with indifference and brutality.

How tragic was that?

It suddenly dawned on Xu Xiliu—maybe the glass that had been thrown at him earlier wasn’t an attack directed at him, but Qin Li’s desperate resistance.

He snapped, "Let go of him!"

The servants hesitated.

"But... Doctor, how can we let go?"

"Dr. Xu, the master is too dangerous when he’s like this. We’re just trying to keep him from hurting himself."

"Yeah, and something almost happened earlier..."

As they spoke, their grips tightened further.

Seeing Qin Li grow increasingly agitated, Xu Xiliu couldn’t take it anymore. "Shut up!"

"Who’s the doctor here, me or you?"

"When I say let go, you let go. No arguments! Do you call that restraining someone? You’re practically strangling him!"

Mental patients were especially sensitive to stimuli, and it was likely that the servants’ careless actions had inadvertently triggered Qin Li’s psychological trauma, worsening his condition.

Butler Zhong, who had been busy straightening the bed, suddenly realized what was happening. His expression darkened. "What are you doing? The master is ill—you can’t treat him like a criminal!"

"Do as Dr. Xu says!"

The thought filled him with remorse.

He was angry at himself for failing in his duties, and heartbroken for Qin Li, who suffered so much during these episodes.

But most of the time, he was powerless to help.

After his outburst, Xu Xiliu regained his usual composed demeanor and continued, "Don’t touch him carelessly. Some of you, leave the room. Too many people will make the patient feel unsafe and trigger stress reactions, which only worsens his condition..."

As he spoke calmly, the rough-handed servants reluctantly released Qin Li. The man on the bed visibly calmed, though he was still breathing heavily, his eyes vacant, lost in his own world.

With only himself and Butler Zhong left in the room, Xu Xiliu finally felt more at ease.

He opened his medical kit and took the opportunity to ask the butler about Qin Li’s condition.

"Uncle Zhong, did Mr. Qin take his medication before I arrived?"

"...No. He refused."

Xu Xiliu nodded. Of course—given the male lead’s stubbornness, it was no surprise.

The original owner’s memories included plenty of similar situations, all of them frustrating.

He took out a sedative and checked it carefully before explaining, "To stabilize Mr. Qin’s mood as quickly as possible, I’ll need to give him an intramuscular injection. Once he’s calmed down, I can examine his other symptoms and any injuries he might have sustained during the episode."

Butler Zhong nodded in agreement.

Xu Xiliu sat by the bed, rolled up Qin Li’s sleeve, and deftly administered the injection.

Sedatives could quickly soothe a patient’s heightened emotions, making them the most direct and effective solution for Qin Li’s current state of refusal and agitation. Moreover, after the injection, the patient would relax and soon fall asleep, making further examinations easier.

Sure enough, within moments of the injection, the pain and tension on Qin Li’s face eased slightly. His heaving chest steadied, though his eyes remained slightly unfocused.

Xu Xiliu didn’t dwell on it. Seeing the male lead’s improved condition, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief.

He turned to the butler. "Has Mr. Qin’s condition been like this all along?"

"...Yes. He refuses to take his medication, isolates himself, and won’t let anyone near him. Sometimes, when we bring him meals, they’re returned untouched. He doesn’t eat properly..."

Xu Xiliu sighed. "This can’t go on. Sedatives are only for emergencies—they can’t be used frequently. For mental illnesses, medication is the primary treatment. He must take his pills on schedule."

"And his stomach issues—he needs to eat regularly..."

The more he spoke, the more he felt like he was stating the obvious. If the male lead had been cooperative, Xu Xiliu wouldn’t have been called here in the middle of the night in the first place

.

He fell silent, sincerely hoping the protagonist would appear soon—with that inexplicably sunny, cheerful smile that supposedly could dispel all darkness—and heal Qin Li with his magical warmth.

But thinking about it, the timeline suggested the protagonist’s arrival was still a long way off.

Resigned, Xu Xiliu picked up a pair of tweezers and some alcohol swabs, disinfecting and cleaning the wounds on the unconscious man’s body.

With most of the servants gone, the room suddenly felt much more spacious.

Seeing Qin Li finally calm, Butler Zhong seemed relieved. Not wanting to disturb Xu Xiliu’s work, he stepped out—though he didn’t go far, lingering just outside the door, as if not entirely trusting the doctor to be left alone with his master.

Xu Xiliu didn’t mind. He knew how these wealthy families operated—paranoid and full of petty suspicions.

Outside, the rain had lightened slightly. The once-heavy downpour had softened to a gentle patter, less grating on the nerves.

Amid the sound, the man on the bed stirred slightly.

Qin Li felt the thick, sluggish fog in his mind begin to clear. The darkness that had clouded his vision, the woman’s hysterical screams—they were fading, along with the suffocating stench of blood that had haunted him. Instead, he saw the warm glow of the ceiling lights above him.

The distant sound of rain soothed him, and though his head still ached, the overwhelming urge to destroy everything had dulled.

His body felt weak, limp—like a puppet with its strings cut. Half-lidded, his thoughts drifted uncontrollably, replaying fragments of what had happened.

The man’s hypocritical smile, the malicious glint in his eyes disguised as concern, the rain, the screams, the torn fabric, bloodied hands, the sensation of suffocation...

Like shattered puzzle pieces, each memory tugged at his nerves, sending fresh waves of pain through his skull.

Qin Li despised this state—loathed it with every fiber of his being. Yet he was forced to endure it over and over, losing control like a mindless beast during episodes, only to wake later and relive his own humiliating madness. His body grew weaker by the day, barely clinging to life.

Hah.

"Rest and recuperate"?

More like being left to rot alive.

His eyes darkened with bitterness, his hands clenching involuntarily, nails digging into his palms—as if physical pain could distract him from the torment in his mind.

But then, someone gently pried his fingers open.

"Hmm? Awake?"

The voice was warm and pleasant, blending with the soft sound of rain outside like a lullaby.

The sharp scent of disinfectant filled his nose, replacing the phantom smell of blood. For a moment, it felt as if he’d been pulled from hell back into the world of the living. Strangely, the sterile odor wasn’t unpleasant—it was almost comforting.

Who was in his room?

Still dazed, Qin Li turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of the figure leaning over him—tall and graceful, dressed in a camel-colored coat over a cream sweater, lips naturally upturned in a gentle smile.

In his blurred vision, the person seemed almost ethereal—so much like the one forever etched in his memories.

Unthinking, he whispered hoarsely, "Mom..."

The room fell dead silent.

Xu Xiliu, who had only come over to check if the male lead was awake: "???"

What did he just call him???

His naturally warm smile froze, instantly turning stiff. Reflexively, he reached out and clamped a hand over the delirious man’s mouth, forcing a smile:

"Go back to sleep, dear. You’re a grown man—you shouldn’t be calling for your mommy at your age."