Chapter 83: Needs

Dai Linxuan smoothed out the bedsheet and stood up. “There are indeed other options, but all things considered, this path is the safest and will achieve the best results.”

A person who had “ruined their face” always came across as more convincingly dark and despicable. It was like how a handsome person committing evil deeds prompted reactions like, “He looks so upright and proper; who would have thought he’d be like this behind closed doors.” But when a fierce-looking villain did something bad, people just said, “You can tell from his face he’s no good.”

“I have it under control,” Dai Linxuan said. He had no intention of confiding too much in Ye Qingyun. He moved to a nearby chair and sat down, calmly lifting his gaze. “Your only patient is my brother. You don’t need to worry about my affairs.”

Ye Qingyun stressed, “Lai Li cares a great deal.”

Dai Linxuan replied, “I’ll accommodate all of his needs.”

Ye Qingyun found it absurd. “Even if it means seeing a doctor and taking medicine!?”

“If it puts his mind at ease, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Dai Linxuan’s words were utterly unreasonable, yet his tone remained perfectly rational. “That said, I still hope you can try to convince him—moderate depression doesn’t necessarily require medication.”

“I remember antidepressants have quite a few side effects. That could delay some… work on my end.”

Ye Qingyun felt helpless. “Work is more important than your health?”

Dai Linxuan interlaced his fingers and rested them lightly on his knee. “More important than anything.”

They both knew “work” wasn’t literal. Ye Qingyun had no idea what Dai Linxuan was actually up to, but she caught the subtext—

What he had to do was more important than Lai Li.

On the surface, he could accommodate Lai Li’s every demand, but he couldn’t truly stop the actions that made Lai Li uncomfortable.

“If you can’t convince him, then please just prescribe something with minimal side effects.”

“…”

Dai Linxuan’s attitude toward Lai Li was so tolerant and gentle that Ye Qingyun had mistaken him for someone who could be reasoned with. In reality, he was just wrapping bitter medicine in honey to coax Lai Li into swallowing it.

Once Lai Li was out of the picture, he reverted to his unshakable state.

Ye Qingyun felt a headache coming on. Treating mental illness wasn’t like treating a physical one, where medication guaranteed results. It required the patient’s cooperation on a mental level.

Dai Linxuan was strong-willed at his core. He knew exactly what he was doing and what needed to be done. It wasn’t the superficial “I understand the principles.” He truly comprehended everything, yet for the sake of other matters, he set aside his own emotions entirely.

As long as he refused to cooperate, no one could save him.

Lai Li’s condition stemmed from illness, but Dai Linxuan’s did not.

Ye Qingyun had once treated a patient disfigured by sulfuric acid. The man had suffered extensive, irreversible burns over his body due to a work accident, losing one eye. His lower face and neck were fused together, covered in grotesque, terrifying red scars.

That patient had been upbeat and optimistic before, but the acid had upended his life. He was in constant pain, plagued by nightmares every night. He refused to speak or go out, because whenever he walked down the street—even if no one was around—he imagined mocking stares and intrusive gazes.

It was hard to fathom why an upstanding, ordinary person would deliberately put themselves in such a state.

Yet in their few meetings, Dai Linxuan had remained calm and composed. Apart from guilt over hurting Lai Li, he showed no attachment whatsoever to his former life.

Reputation, appearance, even health—all seemed like mere externalities to him.

Ye Qingyun couldn’t help asking, “When you made this choice, did you really not…”

Not feel even a shred of satisfaction from destroying your own future?

Dai Linxuan looked at her. “What?”

Ye Qingyun glanced at the test sheet, where true and false answers were mixed. In the end, she didn’t voice it. Dai Linxuan wasn’t from an ordinary family; the secrets and difficulties behind him weren’t for an ordinary person—or an ordinary doctor—to meddle in with advice.

She took a different tack. “Lai Li is a patient. He needs a healthy relationship more than most people do.”

Dai Linxuan’s brow twitched involuntarily.

“Of course, many of Lai Li’s thoughts aren’t healthy either.” Ye Qingyun smiled too. “What I mean is, do you think your current dynamic can last?”

Dai Linxuan said, “If he can last, then I can last.”

“See, that’s the problem.” Ye Qingyun spread her hands. “Do you think Lai Li can sense this ‘anything for you’ attitude of yours?”

Dai Linxuan paused briefly. He wanted to say that was exactly what Lai Li wanted, and his recent mood swings and flare-ups were because Dai Linxuan hadn’t yielded enough.

But the words died on his tongue. “What do you mean?”

“In romantic relationships… ah, yours is a same-sex relationship, and a fairly complicated one at that.” Ye Qingyun cut straight to it, choosing her words carefully. “Between lovers, a healthy exchange of needs is essential. If neither demands anything, there’s no point in being together. If it’s one-sided demands taken for granted, that means there’s no love.”

Dai Linxuan fell silent for a moment before picking the least important point. “Please don’t let him know that you know about our relationship. He’s sensitive about it.”

Ye Qingyun said, “He’s probably sensitive because he’s afraid of holding you back.”

Dai Linxuan nodded in agreement.

Ye Qingyun’s eyes flickered. “I guess you’ve never expressed to him that you want an open, honest relationship.”

Dai Linxuan replied, “That’s not important.”

“Of course it is.” Perhaps as a doctor, or maybe from her time abroad, Ye Qingyun said the word “love” with effortless naturalness. “If you’re in love, both sides will naturally have needs to be fulfilled by the other.”

Dai Linxuan shook his head slightly. “What I mean is, whether the relationship is open or not doesn’t matter to me.”

“…” Ye Qingyun fell quiet for a bit. “The biggest reason Lai Li agreed to see a doctor is to tie you down. I’m sure you can feel that. But once he succeeds, he’ll start thinking, ‘He only loves me because I’m sick,’ and that will lead to anxiety and insecurity.”

Dai Linxuan smiled faintly, thinking Ye Qingyun didn’t fully understand Lai Li—or their situation.

In many cases, Lai Li was the type who cared only about results, not the emotional process. His eyes were fixed on the “goal.”

A man who could even suggest “use me to vent your lust” just to prevent him from having a nightlife wouldn’t fuss over lovers’ typical entanglements, anxieties, or insecurities.

As long as the outcome was “together,” Lai Li wouldn’t care if it stemmed from love, desire, or his own illness.

“He might not have that kind of emotional need for me that lovers do,” Dai Linxuan couldn’t help pointing out. “It’s a bit complicated to explain…”

“Not complicated at all. Just treat it as a younger brother’s need for his only family member.” Ye Qingyun waved it off. “You’re his one-and-only in every way. If you shut him out of everything you do, hide it all from him, never confide or ask anything of him, he’s bound to feel unneeded.”

“There wasn’t any before either…”

Dai Linxuan started to say he hadn’t confided or demanded anything before, but he quickly realized that wasn’t true. His needs from Lai Li had always been obvious.

He needed Lai Li’s exclusive dependence.

Lately, things had shifted; his demands had turned passive.

“As an outsider, there are things you might not want to share with me, but you could talk to Lai Li about them.” Ye Qingyun suggested, “Last time, you mentioned he’s started learning to cook, give massages—things he never did before. Could it be that he’s sensed your discomfort and thinks he needs to step up?”

Dai Linxuan was momentarily taken aback. He recalled Lai Li’s words from a few days ago—”Bro, you can rely on me,” and “I can’t feel your desire for me anymore.”

Ye Qingyun continued, “What he needs right now isn’t indulgence, but for you to demand things from him. That shows you’re truly thinking about a future together.”

Dai Linxuan fell silent. “So, in that sense, me ‘getting sick’ is a good thing?”

Ye Qingyun neither confirmed nor denied it. “Lai Li’s already showing symptoms of ‘visceral hallucinations,’ all projected onto you—like his perfectionism and germaphobia. He thinks you’re sick and uncomfortable partly from real observations, partly from his own delusions.”

Dai Linxuan asked, “What do I need to do?”

Ye Qingyun replied, “The best approach is total honesty with him to prevent his suspicions from worsening the symptoms.”

Dai Linxuan pinched the bridge of his nose. He… couldn’t be honest.

With Lai Li’s temperament, learning what he planned would only make him lose it worse. But he couldn’t not do it.

Dai Linxuan steeled himself. “What about medication?”

Ye Qingyun said, “Medication is necessary, of course. But once you start, you can’t stop abruptly.”

Dai Linxuan closed his eyes briefly. “I’ll make sure he takes it.”

“That’s for the best. Watch him closely—many mental patients avoid their meds in all sorts of clever ways…” Ye Qingyun warned. “Mr. Dai, you need to face this: Lai Li is a mental health patient.”

Dai Linxuan dug his nails into his fingertip. After a long moment, he said, “I understand.”

Finally, Ye Qingyun added, “As for your situation… I’m sorry, but I can’t prescribe without a clear diagnosis. I can’t take that risk.”

Dai Linxuan didn’t want to push her. He settled for the next best thing. “If you can’t convince my brother, just give me the prescription names. I’ll prepare lookalike vitamins as substitutes.”

“…Do you really think that getting diagnosed with moderate depression and following the treatment protocol will put Lai Li’s mind at ease?” Ye Qingyun said helplessly. “Your core issue still isn’t resolved.”

Dai Linxuan had no confidence either; he could only try.

He was destined to go all the way down this road.

“Also…” Ye Qingyun frowned. “Logically, with Lai Li’s condition, he must have had episodes before. Didn’t you notice anything unusual?”

Dai Linxuan’s hand slipped, bumping the armrest. He grabbed a wet wipe and meticulously cleaned each finger. “I didn’t notice anything in the first ten years. As for the last two…”

After a pause, he lowered his gaze and smiled faintly. “Like I told you last time, I was abroad for some reasons, so we didn’t see each other face-to-face much.”

Ye Qingyun watched his movements. “Then it’s likely the condition worsened in these two years. It’s normal you wouldn’t notice.”

“Bang bang!” Outside, Lai Li pounded on the door like he was trying to break it down.

Dai Linxuan tossed the wipe and chuckled. “Come in.”

Lai Li had cooked a huge bowl of noodles, with two fried eggs trimmed perfectly round. He set it in front of Dai Linxuan and loomed over him. “You’d better finish every bite.”

“…” Dai Linxuan took the bowl and placed it on the side table. “I thought this was for two?”

“I—” Lai Li glanced at Ye Qingyun and took a deep breath. “There’s only one set of chopsticks. How am I supposed to eat?”

“I’ll eat first, then you.” Dai Linxuan’s lips curved. “Your stomach was always like a hamster’s when you were little. I ate your leftovers plenty of times.”

Ye Qingyun couldn’t help smiling. “You two eat first. I’ll come back later.”

She picked up the test sheet and quietly closed the door as she left.

Only then did Lai Li grumble, “With outsiders around, can’t you…”

Dai Linxuan gave him a look. “What?”

Lai Li clammed up. After a moment, he said darkly, “Eat! If you don’t finish, I’ll deal with you later.”

Dai Linxuan laughed. “Then I have to see how you’ll ‘deal’ with me.”

He felt a bit troubled.

The bowl was too hearty; there was hardly any broth.

…Not that he couldn’t finish it.

Dai Linxuan calculated how long it would take to eat, what topics to chat about with Lai Li to stretch it out, and if acid reflux hit afterward, how to slip to the bathroom without him noticing…

Lai Li’s expression grew darker by the second.

Dai Linxuan sensed it and looked up. “Did you eat dinner?”

Lai Li said, “Forgot.”

Forgot to eat, or forgot if he’d eaten?

Dai Linxuan wasn’t sure. “Want some of my noodles? Or something else? I can make it for you.”

Lai Li stared at him. “I’m not hungry.”

Dai Linxuan let it go and took a bite of fried egg. “Where’s my phone?”

Lai Li pulled it from his pocket and slapped it on the table. “No phones while eating.”

“…” Dai Linxuan suddenly remembered. “I think I got a call from Director Li earlier. Did he call back?”

“He made several calls, saying Yan An was hospitalized for food poisoning.” Lai Li snorted. “I’d like to know if he notified all three investors for this drama one by one.”

“Food poisoning?”

Dai Linxuan frowned and reached for his phone, but Lai Li slapped his hand down, pinning both his hand and the phone to the table. Gloomily, he asked, “Are you that concerned about him?”

“I just want to check the message.” Dai Linxuan arched his hand back, nudging Lai Li’s palm. “Make sure there’s no big trouble.”

Dai Linxuan tentatively slid his phone out. Sensing that Lai Li’s grip wasn’t ironclad, he lifted a finger and brushed Lai Li’s wrist. “Be good. Listen.”

Lai Li jerked his hand back as if electrocuted and slipped it under the table, clutching the skin his brother had touched.

Dai Linxuan skimmed the messages. Li Dao hadn’t sent anything new, which meant the situation wasn’t too serious. He relaxed slightly, set the phone aside, and asked, “Have you read the script?”

“That script you polished over countless days and nights?” Lai Li said darkly.

“…”

Dai Linxuan’s intuition told him this was something Yan An had said—probably not verbatim, with Lai Li likely omitting the subject.

Dai Linxuan hummed in acknowledgment, pulled out a handkerchief, and dabbed the corner of his mouth. “I’ve been abroad these past two years, so I could only discuss the script with them via remote meetings.”

The implication was clear: no in-person meetings with Yan An, and never just the two of them.

Lai Li knew that full well; otherwise, Yan An wouldn’t have received only that level of treatment the other day.

Watching his brother dawdle over the noodles, Lai Li suddenly said, “Don’t be nervous. I haven’t read the script yet.”

“…Mm.”

“I want to hear it straight from you.” Lai Li said calmly. “Bro, I’ll give you some time to gather your thoughts, but don’t think you can dodge this.”

Dai Linxuan lowered his gaze and took a sip of soup.

Lai Li snatched his chopsticks, planted his elbows on the table, leaned in, and slurped down half the noodles in three or five quick bites before shoving the bowl back toward Dai Linxuan. “—As long as you tell me yourself, I’ll forgive you.”