Studying is the correct way to solve all psychological issues!
To Song Qingshi's delight, the veil of despair that had enshrouded Yue Wuhuan lifted. It was as if a lifeless porcelain doll had come alive, as if a withered flower had begun to bloom again.
He began to take the initiative—approaching, talking, acting. Every morning, he waited at the doorstep for Yue Wuhuan to wake up and start reading.
Even though the world had been unkind to him, he still treated it with gentleness.
No wonder readers adore protagonists who suffer; who wouldn't love such a person?
Song Qingshi's social anxiety gradually subsided, revealing more of his true nature in front of Yue Wuhuan.
Outside his chamber, hesitant knocking sounded.
Song Qingshi groggily lifted his head from the table, realizing it was already daylight. He had fallen asleep while reading again, missing his usual study time and keeping someone waiting outside. Rushing to his feet, he quickly checked for any stray drool before rushing to the door barefoot and disheveled, mumbling, "I accidentally fell asleep on the table again."
Suppressing a yawn and rubbing his slightly reddened eyes to wipe away the sleep-induced tears, he felt a little embarrassed. After all, he had promised to get proper rest and not sleep on the table. Glancing at the person in front of him, he stood up straight, looking as repentant as a kitten caught doing something wrong.
"It's fine; I just got here. Please don't do it again," Yue Wuhuan replied, feeling almost as if he were in a daze.
Now that Song Qingshi was his mentor, he regarded him with due respect.
Initially, he had resolved to follow his master's instructions to the letter. However, Song Qingshi was anything but regimented. His erratic lifestyle, messy room filled with books, clumsy grooming, and wearing the same clothes repeatedly were all cause for concern, let alone his inability to manage his subordinates and domestics.
Why did he ever think such a person would be cruel?
Yue Wuhuan pondered in confusion...
Song Qingshi felt deeply aggrieved upon discerning Yue Wuhuan's thoughts. Throughout his life, he had never concerned himself with anything other than studying. Everything was simplified to save time. He had always been an obedient student, led by professors and managed by senior students.
Who would've thought that in addition to saving the protagonist, he'd have to take on corporate management in another realm?
His predecessor was even worse at communication and offered no insights on management.
Song Qingshi discovered that his predecessor wasn't erratic; his outbursts had their reasons. For example, a jar that had been washed by a servant contained a medicinal fungus he'd cultivated for years. His fury knew no bounds when the servant failed to admit the mistake and when others dared to equate his meticulously developed anesthetics with common knockout drugs. He would become livid, unable to articulate his frustration, and sometimes resort to fatal actions.
His domestics were also walking on eggshells. With only a few words of instruction, they had to guess his intentions, which wasn't easy. The mere sight of their master made them all as skittish as mice before a cat.
Recognizing the flaws in his governance, Song Qingshi resolved to transform his domain into an academy of medical research. With a plan in place, he appointed Yue Wuhuan as his executive secretary to shoulder the burden of communication, reorganizing internal affairs tirelessly every day.
Sharpening the axe won't delay the work of chopping wood.
The various roles in his domain were reassigned, with clear and specific duties for each person. Those who showed a willingness and aptitude for learning were even provided the opportunity to study basic pharmacology, potentially serving as backup medical practitioners in the future.
Yue Wuhuan looked at the token that granted him access to all areas of the domain, even the treasury, with a complicated expression. "Master, how can you trust someone so easily?"
Song "Hands-off Manager" Qingshi magnanimously replied, "I don't trust just anyone. I trust you."
The protagonist, confirmed by the System as a truly good person, is beyond reproach in terms of character! Plus, keeping him busy with tasks will prevent his mind from wandering to other things.
It's a win-win solution!
Filled with gratitude and dedication, Yue Wuhuan set to work. His royal upbringing, coupled with years at the Jin Feng Mountain Manor, had made him adept at reading people and carrying out tasks with ease. In addition to managing various affairs, he also took on the household chores for Song Qingshi—organizing his room, managing his clothing, preparing meals, and even serving as his wake-up call.
He relished this simple, mundane life.
He even wished to hypnotize himself into believing that he was still a normal person.
...
Song Qingshi noticed Yue Wuhuan's improving mental state, seeing more smiles on his face and no tendencies for self-harm. This allowed him to joyfully refocus his attention on restoring his Dantian and cultivating his skills.
The concept of spiritual roots and Dantian were phenomena unheard of in the world of modern science.
Piqued by curiosity, Song Qingshi seized the opportunity when Yue Wuhuan was preoccupied with internal affairs. He retreated to his newly converted basement dissection lab, selected cadavers that exhibited particular types of spiritual roots, and proceeded to dissect them. He aimed to discern the differences between mortal and immortal physiologies, and to understand what exactly spiritual roots were.
In the past, his physical limitations restricted him to merely observing his senior classmates perform dissections. He had always envied them.
Now, rejuvenated and in possession of a healthy body, he was ecstatic as he fulfilled his long-standing wish for dissection.
The scalpel danced between his fingertips as he moved from one cadaver to the next, losing all track of time in his excitement.
After each dissection, Song Qingshi would pause to remove his surgical mask and record his findings, all while enjoying some refreshments and invigorating tea. Just as he was happily recording his observations, the door to the basement opened. Yue Wuhuan walked in carrying dinner, only to freeze at the sight of the dissected bodies, opened intestines, and exposed organs.
Yue Wuhuan cautiously asked, "Master, what are these?"
With a piece of osmanthus cake in his mouth, Song Qingshi turned around in alarm, realizing he might be in trouble.
He had apparently forgotten to instruct Yue Wuhuan to avoid the dissection lab.
In the field of modern medicine, dissection is crucial. Each year, watching the freshmen enter the dissection lab for the first time is a favorite pastime among the senior students. Bets are placed on how many will vomit or faint, and how many will endure to the end. In any case, there are always freshmen who end up being carried out, but they soon grow accustomed to it. Within a few years, they all become veterans, capable of heading to the cafeteria to munch on ribs right after a dissection session.
However, Yue Wuhuan had likely never even dissected a frog. Would this be too much for him?
Glancing at his dissection lab, which looked akin to a murder scene due to his exuberance, and then at the disordered cadavers scattered around the room, not to mention the nauseating stench of decay, Song Qingshi swallowed the osmanthus cake in his mouth. He discreetly fetched a basin, preparing it for Yue Wuhuan's potential use.
"Let me explain. Don't panic; it's not what you think."