One thing Zhou Huan heard with perfect clarity was the driver constantly muttering while he jumped, "My eyelid is twitching again!"

Tian Xiong had found a doctor, and as soon as the doctor entered the driver's ward, he exclaimed as if seeing a relative, "Ah, Master Zhou, you've come. This fellow has gone completely insane. It follows a strict routine every day: after dinner, the first thing he does is head to the restroom—and he waits right outside the women's room. Whoever goes in gets a string of curses, and he stands there for half an hour. When he returns to the ward, he violently slaps whoever he sees hard on the shoulder. Look at my shoulder; he's slapped it dark purple! Afterwards, he just leaps around the room until it’s time for bed, and he sleeps until the next evening, only to wake up and start the ruckus again."

Hearing the doctor’s description, Zhou Huan and Tian Xiong almost burst out laughing, but this was hardly the time or place.

The doctor's words prompted Zhou Huan to involuntarily touch his own shoulder, feeling a genuine pang of soreness. He managed a slightly embarrassed look at the doctor and asked, "So, you have no way to control him?"

"We are discussing whether we should transfer him to a psychiatric hospital; that way, we could accommodate more people on this floor," the doctor said, watching Zhou Huan’s expression closely. He knew the connection Zhou Huan had; even the director wanted Driver Liu gone, but out of respect for Zhou Huan, he couldn't say it directly, which is why he sent the doctor to murmur these things to him.

Zhou Huan managed a smile. "Since you all are in such a bind, then please arrange the transfer. His family has left everything in my hands; if I sign, it’s settled!" As he spoke, Zhou Huan plucked a stack of transfer forms from the clipboard the doctor was holding. He had actually spotted these forms when he first arrived, so he simply drew them out and signed them swiftly.

Just as Zhou Huan finished signing, he heard the distinct sound of leather shoes approaching from the corner of the stairwell in the corridor. When Zhou Huan looked up, Ling Zi was instantly standing before him.

"Master Zhou, I heard the driver is being transferred. I came specifically to see him. After all, he's one of my subordinates; I can't just ignore things when trouble arises," Ling Zi said, her smile as clear and tranquil as ever.

Zhou Huan felt a wave of genuine refreshment; it had been a long time since he had seen such a pure smile.

Ling Zi entered the ward, glanced at the driver, then leaned down and whispered something into his ear before turning and exiting.

"I don't know what Miss Ling Zi said. He might have been having a major fit, and now he seems exhausted. However, if he were to get up now, you probably wouldn't even have a few words left to say," Zhou Huan remarked as he began walking downstairs with Ling Zi.

Ling Zi smiled. "Master Zhou, you might not know, but the elders in my family left behind a method: if you tell someone with mental distress kind words, they will eventually recover."

"Oh, then it seems the elders in Ling Zi's family are quite formidable."

"Not at all. Our community traditionally pays attention to such matters; every household has its own folk remedies capable of healing the sick. It's just me—I'm none of those things; I don't understand any medical arts, which is why I came out to do sales. For me, this job is already quite good," Ling Zi said with considerable modesty.

Zhou Huan, however, felt a deep unease. Could someone who merely studied medicine possess such profound hidden depths? He was certain Ling Zi was some sort of master, but this wasn't the time to ask. Even if he did, she likely wouldn't tell him. So, Zhou Huan offered a diplomatic reply: "Then it seems your family has saved quite a few people."

Ling Zi didn't answer directly, offering only a perfunctory smile. The two followed the stretcher bearers as Driver Liu was moved out of the ward and loaded into the ambulance bound for the mental hospital. The ambulance wailed its siren, speeding across town back to the facility, where a private room had been specially prepared for Driver Liu.

Zhou Huan, Tian Xiong, and Ling Zi followed the stretcher down and took a look inside the driver's new room. "This place is like a prison! This is hardly a place for treatment," Zhou Huan observed.

"You are mistaken!" said the doctor in charge of admitting patients here. His surname was Niu, and everyone called him Newton, though that was just a nickname—the reason why was untraceable.

Zhou Huan and Tian Xiong stared at him with confused expressions. This Doctor Newton then addressed Zhou Huan: "Every hospital's purpose is to heal and save lives. Confining him here is temporary. Once his condition improves slightly, we will help arrange a transfer out of the private room."

"That is certainly for the best. A person can't be cooped up in one room indefinitely; even a healthy person could go mad from it!" Zhou Huan’s words were skillfully smooth.

The doctor offered a compliant smile. "I know you are Master Zhou Huan. Someone already gave me a heads-up before you arrived. Rest assured, I will adhere to our institution's regulations and will not mistreat your friend. But you must be patient; this illness won't be cured in a day or two."

"That’s no problem. I would like to see your director now, if he is available!" Zhou Huan asked casually.

"That... he is currently discussing the mechanics of the universe with the patients. It's unlikely he can disengage until he’s thoroughly debated those individuals," the doctor replied, immediately feeling awkward. After all, this was hardly a place for normal people; anyone with weak resolve would likely go mad after staying long enough.

Zhou Huan forced a slight smile. "Very well. Tell me how to find him; I want to speak with him."

Newton then led Zhou Huan through the pathology wing, which opened out into the patient recreation area—a space where mentally unwell but non-violent patients could move about.

"Kid, kneel for big brother, and I'll spare your life. Tonight, I’ll even let a few of my men accompany you for some 'male-female' activities."

"Yes, Boss. I’ll polish your shoes for you. Are your slippers comfortable now?"

Zhou Huan looked over. One man was sitting at a stone table, demanding that another patient, who was kneeling on the ground, polish his slippers, while the seated man pouted and glared as if he were some true gangster.

At another end, two very young men were intensely practicing Peking Opera, specifically focusing on the huadan (female roles).

Even more bizarrely, a pair were playing Chinese Chess with thirty-two smooth, blank stones, managing to clearly determine a winner and a loser by the end of their game.

Seeing this scene, Zhou Huan felt the place was utterly chaotic—full of every type of 'talent,' yet not a single normal person among them.

"Master Zhou, this is the room. You can go in and look for yourself!" Newton glanced at Zhou Huan, then added, "Be very careful. These fellows like to spit at people."

"Oh?" Zhou Huan gently pushed the door open and was immediately greeted by two flying projectiles—upon closer inspection, two blobs of phlegm. Fortunately, being a trained martial artist, Zhou Huan easily dodged both expectorations.

Zhou Huan walked up to the patient who had spat with a cheerful smile. "Why did you immediately try to spit at me when you saw me?"

The man frowned deeply. "Ah, you fools! Don't you understand the mechanics of the universe? In a vacuum, this glob of saliva should float wherever gravity dictates. Your arrival proves you possess gravity!" Saying this, the man began patting Zhou Huan’s body vigorously. "Strange! Your body has no magnetic force. That means Einstein’s theory of relativity is flawed. I’ll help him revise it later!" After speaking, the man grabbed a wad of tissues covered in Arabic numerals, flipping through them as he walked out of the room.

At the very front center of the room was a large blackboard. Standing before it was a man in a white coat—presumably the director based on his attire—who appeared to be lecturing, with everyone else below listening intently to him alone.

"Alright, today we have reached a major breakthrough. We deserve a Cosmic Oscar for Science! Remember today’s topic: For us humans, if the eyelid twitches too rapidly, does it affect postnatal development, or perhaps postnatal behavior?" After concluding, the director gave Zhou Huan and the others an OK hand gesture.