After six years, Jian Ming once again stepped into the Baichuan Psychological Counseling Center. The familiar scent of sandalwood lingered in the air—he knew this had long been Jiang Luchuan’s habit. It helped soothe patients’ nerves and was also useful for calming the mind during hypnotherapy.

The layout of the office area hadn’t changed much, though it looked like it had been renovated at some point. The entire corridor was now carpeted in a new shade of gray. The young woman at the front desk looked unfamiliar, and just as Jian Ming’s gaze swept past her, she chirped up cheerfully.

“You must be… Jian Ming, Professor Jiang’s student, right?”

Student? Jian Ming paused for a moment. Technically, that wasn’t wrong. He nodded.

“Hi! I’m Chen Fei. Professor Jiang told me you’d be coming. Your office is just ahead—I’ll show you.” She stepped out from behind the desk and led Jian Ming to the third room down the hallway. If he remembered correctly, the office right next door—the fourth one at the end of the hall—was Jiang Luchuan’s.

“Thank you, Chen Fei. Has Professor Jiang not come in this morning?” Jian Ming asked, a bit puzzled. He hadn’t seen him at home earlier either. Just a glass of milk and a few pieces of toasted bread had been left on the table, with a note tucked under the plate instructing him to bring the files from last night and head to the center.

“Oh, he called and said to take you straight to your office if you arrived. Maybe he’ll show up later. He’s always popping in out of nowhere, haha.”

Jian Ming found himself liking this girl. Her bright, easygoing laugh seemed to sweep away the long hallway’s silence.

“Alright. I’ll wait for him here.”

“Sure—just holler if you need anything!”

Jian Ming looked around his new office. It was clearly thoughtfully arranged, with warm tones throughout the room. To the left of the entrance stood a clean-lined white desk—whoever set it up clearly understood that overly complex or flashy setups were no good for helping patients concentrate.

To the right was a gray recliner, with a small table beside it holding a pair of compact speakers. Ah, he thought, this must be the relaxation therapy area. Jian Ming smiled slightly, feeling quite satisfied with the space.

He set down his briefcase, sat in the chair, and removed his glasses, pressing his fingers into his tired eyes. Damn—he hadn’t slept well last night. The jet lag was catching up to him faster than expected.

Suddenly, a frantic knock at the door jolted him out of his would-be nap.

He slapped his cheeks and put his glasses back on.

“Come in—”

Before he could finish, a man burst through the door like a gust of wind.

A much more leisurely Jiang Luchuan followed behind, grinning as he teased, “Lu Heng, this isn’t my office—don’t go scaring my beloved protégé.”

Lu Heng?