Chapter 7 Protect the Heart

"Stop fighting, can't we just talk things out?" The men who had tried to restrain John earlier wouldn't really hurt him due to his status, but Edward was different. If Edward hit him, John wouldn't fight back. "Look at him," Edward snapped. Margaret tightened her grip on Edward's hand, "Let me talk to him, okay?" Edward turned away, and Margaret walked over to John. She raised her trembling hand to touch his neck. "Dear, will you come with Mom and Dad? We're just going to see a doctor, and if everything's fine, you can come home tonight." John had always been filial, especially towards Margaret. She had almost lost her life giving birth to him, while Edward was always stern and serious in John's eyes, unlike Margaret. John hugged Margaret, burying his face in her shoulder, and whispered, "Mom, Sophia isn't dead." Margaret closed her eyes and cried, realizing that John was truly ill. John got into the car, with Margaret sitting beside him, while Edward took the car behind. He ordered that no one present should disclose what happened today to anyone. John carried the weight of the entire Jones family on his shoulders. He had inquired and learned that John's illness could be treated. The director and experts stood at the door, looking out. Today, someone from the Jones family would be here, and they had all rushed over from their homes in the middle of the night. Their eager anticipation was rewarded as five cars approached in formation. The director and expert exchanged glances and went forward to greet them. The first to get out of the car was John's father. "Mr. John," the director approached, "you're here." Edward nodded, "My son is in the front car." "I see," the director waved, and medical staff approached. John voluntarily opened the car door and got out, "I can walk by myself." Judging by their demeanor, they intended to force the issue. John was experienced in business and lacked the youthful vitality of his age, with eyes that made people want to avoid looking at him. The sign of the 251 Psychiatric Hospital was made of some unknown metal, glowing with a coppery hue. The writing on it was covered in rust, but the inside of the hospital was clean. Most of the inpatient buildings were dark, with only the one facing the main entrance still lit up. The director led the way for Edward, while John walked behind with his hands in his pockets. There was a clock hanging in the center of the outpatient lobby, and John glanced at it. It was almost 11:30 p.m. Just half an hour left before today was over. He hadn't wished Sophia a happy birthday yet, and the ribs in the pot were probably cold. John pulled out his phone from his pocket, opened Facebook, and found Sophia. "I'm at the hospital. Are you home yet?" "I'll be back as soon as possible. Don't eat the ribs if they're cold." He hesitated with his fingers, "Are you mad? That's why you're not replying to my messages?" Edward turned around and saw John sending a message outside. He furrowed his brow and said to the director, "I hope you can examine him tonight and see what's wrong." The director nodded vigorously. John was taken into an office by the expert, while Edward and Margaret went into a conference room with the director. The situation in the expert's office could be connected to the director's office. Before John arrived, the Jones family had explained the situation. John's wife had passed away, but John seemed to refuse to accept this reality, insisting that she was still alive. The expert easily picked up the conversation. But John didn't say much, keeping his head down and looking at his phone. The expert noticed, "May I ask if you're waiting for a message from someone?" "From my wife." The expert's gaze shifted to his sharp eyebrow ridge, "How did you get this scar?" John raised his hand to touch it and smiled, meeting the expert's gaze, "When I was in school, Sophia was being stalked, so I got into a fight with those guys." There was a lot of blood, and Sophia cried very sadly. It was on that day that he and Sophia kissed for the first time. "May I ask how you and your wife met?" "At the racetrack," John recalled the scene of their first meeting, as clear as if it had happened yesterday. He and a few friends walked into the racetrack and heard cheers from the crowd outside while picking horses. On the racetrack, a girl in a red riding suit wore a black hat, holding the reins with one hand, her slender legs gripping the horse's flank, with cold-glinting leather boots on her pale calves. She leaned to the side and picked up the prize from the ground. Her waist must be very soft, that was John's first thought when he saw her. Then the girl glanced over this way. The expert saw John lost in his memories, observing his expressions and trying not to miss any details. However, he was too far away at that time and couldn't clearly see what the girl looked like, but even her vague silhouette was beautiful. Twenty minutes later, during free time, John saw Sophia again while riding his horse. She dismounted, holding her hat in her hand, with her cascading blonde hair softly resting on her shoulders. John noticed she had small dimples. The moment her hair was blown up, John's heart pounded. "Who chased whom?" The expert's question pulled John out of his reverie. The man's handsome features were made cold by the lighting. "I did," he had never liked a girl this much before, wanting to hold her in his arms, protect her, kiss her, and make her his own. He wanted to pick all the stars in the sky for her, and even give her his life if she asked for it one day. The expert crossed his arms, "So you've been very happy together all along." John hesitated, his lips tightening. Margaret watched tensely on the monitor screen, her hands gripping with sweat. After a long silence, John changed his posture, "She betrayed me." The expert asked again, but John didn't say anything else, so they proceeded to the machine testing phase. Various tests were conducted throughout the night. The next morning, the expert took the report and handed it to the Jones family. "It's mainly a psychological barrier, accompanied by severe symptoms of fantasy and delusion." The expert's recommendation was to hospitalize him for treatment. Edward agreed, while Margaret looked worried. Edward glanced at John, who was sitting with his back to the monitor, and said, "My son is hard to subdue." The expert nodded, "I understand." Seven minutes later, the expert went to talk to John first, who showed intense resistance. More than a dozen attendants in blue uniforms rushed in. The doctor injected John with a sedative, but even so, he still struggled violently. "My wife is waiting for me at home; I can't be here!" John gradually felt weak and his breathing slowed down. He stared blankly at the ceiling and tightly closed his eyes. Had his dad gone crazy? John spent half a month in the psychiatric hospital, with no freedom for the first week. Edward's men had been guarding nearby, and the 251 hospital wasn't somewhere one could easily escape from, with strict security. It wasn't until a week later, when John's mental state was assessed as relatively stable, that it was decided to give him activity time on Monday. The daily activities of patients at the 251 hospital were rich and varied. Everyone could borrow books from the nurse at the front desk to take back and read. They could apply to sunbathe in the courtyard or attend public lectures. John sat in a chair under the tree shade, rubbing his fingers. Why wasn't Sophia coming to see him? His phone had been confiscated, and there was a collective time for watching news and TV shows every day, but he missed her. He didn't care about anything anymore; he just wanted her back. She had left without hesitation three years ago, and he should have kept looking for her back then. Sophia loved him so much; how could she be with William? The expert was looking down from upstairs when John lifted his head, not sure what he was looking at. "Is it really safe to let him move around freely?" The director stood beside the expert and asked. The expert smiled without saying anything. John's main issue was psychological. He planned to give him hypnotherapy. The hypnotherapy was scheduled for three days later. During this period, John would sit in the hospital courtyard every day, staring blankly at the entrance. His mother had visited twice, but Sophia hadn't come at all. A maple leaf, which Sophia loved, fell at John's feet. He bent down and picked it up. He twisted the stem and raised the leaf to block the sunlight, squinting his eyes. "Mr. John," someone called him. He turned around. "Dr. Steven is calling you to the treatment room." The nurse stood beside him, waiting for John to rise. "Do you like it?" He showed the nurse the leaf, and she nodded with a smile, "It's beautiful." Together, they headed towards the treatment room. The nurse couldn't help but glance at John occasionally. On the night he arrived, it took over a dozen people to restrain him. Yet, after being here for so long, he hadn't caused any trouble. "You can go in now, I'll leave you here," the nurse smiled and opened the door in front of them. Dr. Steven had been waiting in the treatment room. John asked, "Hypnosis?" Taking a quick glance at the equipment in the room, John had a rough idea. "Mr. John is very perceptive," the specialist smiled warmly. As John lay on the bed, he said, "I'm not sick." The specialist chuckled, "Well, you're not sick." John impatiently closed his eyes, and the specialist began the hypnotic induction. In a trance-like state, he saw Sophia, the Sophia from long, long ago, with baby fat on her youthful face, innocent and adorable. The scenes flashed by like a movie on double speed. John's fingers gripped tightly, making a squeaking sound. The person on the bed experienced intense emotional fluctuations. Dr. Steven continued the hypnotic therapy without pause. John began to shake, tears forcing their way out of the corners of his eyes, and the entire bed trembled violently due to his shivering. Dr. Steven snapped his fingers, and John's expression turned painful. He gradually stopped shivering and curled up, his eyes closed, his hair dampened by tears. His cries were suppressed. John sat up, covering his eyes with his arms, his palms pressing hard against the mattress. Dr. Steven handed him a glass of water. "Congratulations, you can be discharged." His hands trembled incessantly, and he breathed heavily with his head bowed. "Thank you." Getting off the bed, he stumbled towards the door. Dr. Steven said nothing, instead notifying the hospital director, who first called the Jones family. Edward inquired about the situation in detail and, upon hearing Dr. Steven's assurance of a successful treatment, agreed to John's discharge. The director approved the discharge papers. John didn't rush to leave; he sat under his usual tree for a while before departing.