After Helping the Protagonist Escape From a Madman, I Became His Target [Transmigration Novel] - Chapter 14

While something was still simmering in the kitchen, Shen Luyang and Xie Weihan sat on the sofa chatting. Since Shen Luyang wasn’t hungry yet, the conversation was exceptionally relaxed.

Shen Luyang had initially worried that someone with his “lowbrow tastes” wouldn’t have common ground with a man like Xie Weihan, but his concerns proved unnecessary. Even when he brought up something as mundane as the breakfast stall at the school gate raising its prices, Xie Weihan smoothly chimed in, noting that the sugar in the soy milk seemed to be rationed now, too.

Shen Luyang wasn’t a particularly rigid thinker; his conversation tended to jump from one topic to another. Eventually, they somehow circled back to their very first dinner together.

Xie Weihan asked, seemingly at random, “So, how is your ‘friend’s friend’ doing?”

Shen Luyang’s hand froze mid-sip. His gaze flickered away. “He… has already gone to see a doctor.”

Xie Weihan looked elegant and composed, appearing to believe him completely. “And the result?”

Shen Luyang scratched his head awkwardly. He had improvised that story on the spot; he hadn’t realized he’d have to write a sequel. Now, he had to double down on the nonsense.

“My friend took him to the psychiatric department for an evaluation,” he stuttered. “The doctor said it was…” He paused for two seconds. “Antisocial Personality Disorder.”

The moment the words left his mouth, his eyes reflexively jumped to Xie Weihan’s face, searching for a reaction. But Xie Weihan remained calm. He merely looked up, a trace of thoughtful surprise in his eyes. “Is that so? That sounds quite dangerous.”

Shen Luyang was trying to test the waters of Xie Weihan’s mental state. Everything looked normal now, but what if a failed mission caused “unimaginable consequences,” like the System warned? He was terrified his mistakes might cause the entire world to collapse.

Watching him discreetly, Shen Luyang carefully chose his words. “Actually, his friend usually seems fine. He’s polite to everyone, and people around him think he’s a great guy.”

“You mean to say he hides it well?” Xie Weihan’s eyes hooded slightly.

Shen Luyang pulled his gaze back. “Exactly.”

Xie Weihan let out a soft chuckle, looking at him with an indulgent expression. “Then how did your friend find out?”

Shen Luyang choked for a second, rubbing the back of his ear. “Just… by chance. While chatting with his friend, he inadvertently discovered it.”

Xie Weihan fell into a thoughtful silence for a few seconds. His black loungewear made his skin look even paler, like a piece of fine cold jade or a precision-engineered machine that never leaked a drop of data.

“Then he must like your friend very much,” Xie Weihan remarked. “To let a deep secret like that slip out so easily.”

Shen Luyang hadn’t expected the conversation to take this turn. He felt like Xie Weihan was speaking in subtext, but he couldn’t quite grasp the meaning. He could only follow the lead. “Yeah… they are quite close. My friend is planning to work with him on intervention and treatment.”

“He is very lucky,” Xie Weihan commented.

Shen Luyang took a shallow breath, his fingers fidgeting. It was impossible to play mind games with Teacher Xie; he was far too green. In that case…

“Teacher Xie, do you think this kind of thing can be cured? Will he do something… bad to my friend?”

Fortune favors the bold, Shen Luyang! A real man asks what he wants to know!

Xie Weihan seemed surprised by the bluntness. He paused, then leaned back and asked with a slight curl of his lips, “Luyang, how did you know I would be knowledgeable about this?”

Shen Luyang abandoned all pretenses and threw a straight ball. “I feel like you know more than I do. You’re older than me, after all.”

“Well, that’s true,” Xie Weihan said, finishing his tea and setting the cup down. “I do happen to know a bit about it.”

Shen Luyang sat up straight. “Then do you think he—”

He wanted to ask “Is there any hope for him?” but remembered how Xie Weihan had essentially handed out a death sentence last time before a diagnosis was even mentioned. He adjusted his phrasing: “To what extent can it be treated?”

Xie Weihan didn’t give a direct answer. His voice was mellow and warm as he explained, “Low-functioning ASPD patients usually exhibit violent tendencies and antisocial behavior early on; they’re easy to spot. High-functioning patients, however, are often masters of disguise. They live in society as ‘normal’ people. As you said, in the eyes of others, such a person might be an impeccably good man, perhaps even kinder, more considerate, and more disciplined than most.”

A faint light danced in Xie Weihan’s dark pupils, as if he could see through everything.

“But they cannot feel the emotions of a normal person—anger, grief, guilt, fear, shame,” he stated slowly. “Social order is built on morality and law. They cannot empathize with the former, and they have no desire to follow the latter. To ‘fit in,’ high-functioning patients carefully observe and mimic the emotional shifts and thought patterns of those around them. Once they’ve mastered the mask, they provide the appropriate feedback. They are quick learners who lack guilt or shame, so they can unscrupulously exploit the emotions of others, either for self-amusement or to achieve a goal.”

Shen Luyang began to doubt his own intelligence. He truly couldn’t see a single one of those traits in Teacher Xie.

Xie Weihan leaned against the sofa and added composedly, “In their cognition, only ‘self-interest’ exists and satisfying their own desires at any cost.”

Shen Luyang stared at Xie Weihan, trying to find a crack in his expression, but the man was so calm it was as if he were merely stating a fact that had nothing to do with him.

“If your friend wants to cure him, he needs to understand one thing,” Xie Weihan paused, crossing his legs and lightly tapping his fingers on his knee. “What is it, exactly, that the other person is fixated on?”

Shen Luyang blinked, remembering the “innocent victim” from the story, and said instinctively, “He’s in love with someone.”

Xie Weihan suddenly reached out and flicked Shen Luyang’s forehead, his eyes full of mirth. “Luyang, were you not paying attention to the lesson?”

Shen Luyang froze, clutching his head. “What lesson—oh, wait.” He frowned as he recalled the man’s earlier words. “He doesn’t have an emotion like ‘love’.”

“He can,” Xie Weihan said, subtly pulling his gaze back. “It’s just far more dilute than in a normal person. Their minds lack ‘morality,’ so they don’t care about ‘fidelity’ in a relationship.”

Shen Luyang understood. “Then who would even date them? That’s far too scummy.”

Unfaithful, dating one person today and sleeping with another tomorrow… anyone who meets him is just unlucky—

Suddenly, Shen Luyang’s body went rigid. He realized that after all this talk, he was currently sitting in front of a living…

His Adam’s apple bobbed. After a long silence, he managed to choke out, “I think… you can’t generalize these things.”

He had to consider the context of the book; this was a fictional world, after all.

“Oh?” Xie Weihan seemed interested, his expression inviting him to elaborate.

“High-functioning ASPD patients have ‘self-control’ that is, in some ways, greater than their ‘desires’,” Shen Luyang argued. “You said they can live normally in society. Doesn’t that mean that if I—I mean, hypothetically—”

Xie Weihan’s eyes twinkled. “Not your friend?”

“Ahem—” Shen Luyang nearly choked on his tea. He coughed and rubbed his nose. “Fine, my friend…”

“Let’s just say it’s you,” Xie Weihan suggested helpfully. “It makes things clearer.”

“…Fine,” Shen Luyang said, pointing to himself. “It’s me. If I met an ASPD patient who seemed like a perfect girl with incredible self-control and a perfect disguise and if she kept the act up for her entire life, and I never knew the truth, and we lived happily together… wouldn’t that be fine?”

Xie Weihan arched an eyebrow. After a moment, he nodded. “That’s a valid point.”

Encouraged, Shen Luyang continued, “And looking at it from another angle: their instinct is ‘self-interest.’ If she was always exceptionally good to me, she must really love me, to the point where she’d put me even before her own self-love.”

Xie Weihan nodded. “True.”

Shen Luyang had the “cheat code” of the System; he knew that in the book, Xie Weihan really did maintain self-control for his entire life. So, he felt his logic wasn’t entirely baseless.

He rubbed his chin. “So, if my friend’s friend can just improve his self-control, wouldn’t that be a success?”

Xie Weihan’s powerful self-control allowed him to always treat others with his best side. Otherwise, with his status as an S-class Alpha, satisfying his desires would be far too easy.

A faint, unreadable curve appeared on Xie Weihan’s lips. His voice was deep and mellow. “Since he values your friend so much, is it possible that in his eyes, everyone else is just ‘entertainment,’ while your friend is the only thing he truly wants? He might want your friend by his side to ‘supervise’ him for the rest of his life.”

Shen Luyang was stunned.

This was a direction he had never considered. Was his own thinking too narrow, or was the ASPD mindset just that skewed?

Xie Weihan lowered his lashes. He picked up an apple with one hand and a paring knife with the other, expertly peeling the fruit. “Since such a person will never stop until their desire is satisfied… why not try satisfying him?”

Shen Luyang thought about it and shook his head frantically. “No, no, no. If he’s satisfied, won’t he lose interest and move on to the next target?”

Just like many scumbags who chase girls just to satisfy their sense of conquest and then dump them the moment they win.

Xie Weihan held the knife handle calmly. He didn’t refute the statement but instead changed the subject. “Do you like apples?”

Shen Luyang looked at the apple in his hand and scratched his neck. “They’re okay. Do you like them, Teacher Xie?”

“I didn’t care for fruit before,” Xie Weihan said, handing him the peeled apple, his gaze deep. “But lately, I’ve found I like apples very much. People change, don’t they?”

“True. I didn’t like spicy food as a kid, but now I can’t live without it,” Shen Luyang said, taking a bite. “You peel apples really well, Teacher Xie.”

A smile bloomed on Xie Weihan’s lips. His answer, however, was directed at Shen Luyang’s first point. “What a coincidence. I like it too.”

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