Sent to the countryside, I turned the health center into a top-tier hospital.

Chapter 140 Despair

The man walked over, glanced at Chen Ping and Cui Ying, and asked about the situation.

Chen Ping briefly repeated what the man had said.

The man took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out and offered it to Chen Ping, but Chen Ping didn't take it. The man put it in his mouth himself, and it took two tries to light it with a lighter.

"Thank you so much, this child is so insensible." The man thanked Chen Ping.

The girl's mother knelt down, hugged the girl, patted her back, and said, "It's okay, it's okay," but her voice was still trembling.

She stood up and pulled the girl away.

The girl didn't move, and shook off her hand.

"I'm not going to a mental hospital!" the girl's voice rose, loud enough to be heard across the bridge. "I'm not sick! You're the ones who are sick!"

The woman's face changed, from heartache to anger, and then from anger to something that was hard to define—a mixture of grievance and fury.

She gritted her teeth, grabbed the girl's arm, and pulled her forcefully to the side of the road.

The man stubbed out his cigarette, threw it on the ground, stomped on it, and came over to help. The two of them each grabbed one of her arms and dragged her toward a black SUV.

The girl struggled desperately, leaving two marks on the ground with her shoes, shouting "I won't go, I won't go!" Her voice grew louder and sharper with each shout.

Chen Ping walked over and stood in front of the car door.

"Wait a moment."

The man looked up at him, his brow furrowing. "What's wrong?"

"Are you going to send the child to a mental hospital?" Chen Ping asked.

The man nodded. "This child has schizophrenia and needs to be hospitalized, otherwise something bad could easily happen. Look, something almost happened today. If you hadn't discovered it in time, things would have been terrible."

Chen Ping frowned slightly. "This child doesn't seem to have schizophrenia to me. Don't rush to send him away; let me take a look."

"Take a look?" The man was taken aback.

"Oh, I'm a doctor," Chen Ping quickly explained.

The woman looked Chen Ping up and down, her gaze sweeping over him, her face full of impatience.

"We've already seen several hospitals, including those in the provincial capital, and they all say it's schizophrenia and requires hospitalization. Which hospital are you a doctor at?"

Chen Ping paused for a moment, then said, "Siping Township Health Center."

The woman's face darkened completely.

She didn't speak, but her expression was more hurtful than any words. Her lips curled down, and the look in her eyes changed from scrutiny to disdain, as if she had heard a joke she shouldn't have heard.

The man didn't say anything, but he didn't loosen his grip on the girl's arm; in fact, he gripped it even tighter.

The woman took out her phone from her bag, swiped a few times, and shoved the screen in front of Chen Ping.

The screen showed a video of the living room. The sofa was tilted, the coffee table was overturned, and the vase on the TV stand was broken all over the floor. There were also shards of glass on the floor reflecting the light.

The girl stands in the middle of the picture, her hair is loose, and she is holding a cushion and throwing it against the wall.

You can hear a woman's voice in the video, crying and shouting, "Stop smashing! Stop smashing!"

I swiped again, and the next video showed a girl banging her head against the wall, thud, thud, thud, the screen shaking from the impact.

"You call that not sick?"

The woman's voice trembled as she tapped on her phone screen, "She smashed things at home, hit her dad, banged her head against the wall, stayed up all night, and sat alone on the balcony in a daze."

We took her to three hospitals—the provincial children's hospital, the provincial mental health center—and they all said she needed to be hospitalized. You, a doctor from a township health center, just take one look and say it's not her?"

The girl stopped struggling.

She leaned against the car door, head down, tears falling silently to the ground.

The man released his grip, stood aside, and lit another cigarette, the butt glowing and dimming in the night.

The woman put her phone away, took a tissue out of her pocket, and stuffed it into the girl's hand. The girl didn't take it, and the tissue fell to the ground, where it was blown by the wind and stuck to the car wheel.

Chen Ping squatted down, looked at the girl, and said in a low voice, "Little sister, stretch out your hand, let me take your pulse, okay?"

The girl looked up at him, then slowly reached out her hand.

Chen Ping placed three fingers on her pulse and closed his eyes.

The pulse is thready and slightly rapid, with the cun-kou pulse being stronger than the chi pulse, indicating liver qi stagnation and the transformation of stagnant qi into fire.

It's not schizophrenia, it's depression.

Long-term mental stress, if not released, accumulates over time and leads to this condition.

He has seen this kind of patient before, and there are many of them. Many junior high school and high school students suffer from this condition due to the pressure of studying.

In today's fast-paced society, not only adults are under a lot of pressure, but children are also under a lot of pressure.

Many families pour all their heart and soul into their children, hoping they will become successful, bring honor to their ancestors, and change their family's fortunes.

The only thing these families can do is make their children study hard and get into a good university.

In the eyes of parents, the only way out for their children is to get into a good university.

Furthermore, many schools nowadays judge success or failure solely by grades, relentlessly squeezing out children's learning opportunities.

Schools that require students to get up at 5 a.m. and finish school at 10 p.m. are commonplace.

After school, there is still a lot of homework to do, which takes up the space for children to rest and play.

Many children in this environment simply cannot cope...

Furthermore, hospitals nowadays easily label children with various mental health issues.

Depression, anxiety disorder, schizophrenia, etc...

In this fast-paced life, it is normal to occasionally experience anxiety, depression, or even manic outbursts. These people should not be easily labeled.

Many teenagers who are misdiagnosed as having schizophrenia actually have depression. They become drowsy and lethargic from taking medication, and their condition worsens with each treatment.

What she really needs is psychological counseling, a change in the family environment, and for her parents to stop pressuring her.

Chen Ping released his grip, stood up, and looked at the woman.

"Sister, the child definitely doesn't have schizophrenia. In traditional Chinese medicine, it's called depression, and in Western medicine, it's called stress disorder. It's completely different from schizophrenia."

She didn't have a problem with her brain; she was just under too much pressure, and her body couldn't take it anymore.

Stop pressuring her. Give her a break, take her out for a walk, and talk to a psychologist. That's better than sending her to a mental hospital.

The woman looked at Chen Ping without saying a word.

The man stubbed out his cigarette, walked over, and stood next to the woman without saying a word.

The girl suddenly stopped crying.

She raised her head, wiped her face with her hand, glanced at Chen Ping, and then glanced at Cui Ying.

Her tears were still welling up in her eyes, but they didn't fall.

Her lips moved slightly, the sound so faint it was almost inaudible.

"Thank you, Uncle." The girl bowed to Chen Ping.

Then she opened the car door and got in.

There was a bulging backpack on the back seat, with the zipper open, revealing the various textbooks inside.

She shrank into her seat, sat by the window, facing out the window, and didn't look at anyone.

The woman and the man exchanged a glance. The woman got into the car first and sat next to the girl.

The man went around to the driver's seat and started the car.

The black SUV started moving, its taillights lit up, the two red beams particularly glaring in the night.

Chen Ping stood by the bridge, watching the car drive further and further away, its taillights getting smaller and smaller, until it turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

The water under the bridge remained the same, pitch black, with the streetlights shimmering on its surface, rippling as if nothing had happened.

Cui Ying walked to Chen Ping's side, didn't say anything, and just stood there.

Chen Ping's eyes reddened; he could see despair in the girl's eyes.

This time, although he saved her, Chen Ping knew that the girl might have lost all hope for life.

A night breeze blew, and Cui Ying's hair was blown onto her face, but she ignored it.

After a while, she heard Chen Ping's voice, very soft, so soft that it was almost a hum from his nose.

"Her eyes were filled with despair."

As soon as he finished speaking, a tear silently slid down Chen Ping's cheek.

Cui Ying turned her head to look at him.

He stood under the streetlight, the light shining down on him, casting shadows on his face so his expression was obscured.

But that single tear, illuminated by the light, glistened.

"Let's go..."