my psychologist

"Daxi, male, 27 years old, October 1985, 10?" The voice that could make my ears pregnant rose slightly when I read 23. Although it only rose three degrees, it didn't escape my ears.

The meeting was still in Fan Dongfang's specialist consultation room, this time it was just me and him, he was sitting and I was standing.After I gave him my resume, he glanced at it and opened his mouth, but he didn't know where my ordinary birthday aroused his interest, so I could only smile and keep silent.

Fan Dongfang didn't seem to want me to argue, and continued to read on his own: "Han nationality, party member, master of economics, national second-level psychological counselor..." After reading this, Fan Dongfang's voice froze. Suddenly, he raised his eyes and looked at me with a half-smile, "Daji, you don't have a corresponding mid-level professional title, how did you pass the second-level exam for a master's degree in economics?"

I don't like Fan Dongfang, and Fan Dongfang doesn't seem to like me very much, maybe it's because we don't get along.

Naturally, I don't need to tell him how to pass the exam as a second-level psychological counselor. I maintained a perfect respectful smile and said casually, "I took the third-level exam first."

Fan Dongfang didn't comment, and threw my resume on the table casually: "I gave you a day to prepare the resume, and you just made such a page to perfuse me?"

"I think I have shown enough respect to Teacher Fan from the beginning to the end." I began to weigh in my heart whether it was worth it to suffer from Fan Dongfang's troubles here in order to give our leader an "unforgettable memory".

"Daji, your respect is obviously despising my insight..." Fan Dongfang pointed at the resume on the table with his fingertips, and said in a gentle and elegant voice, "Excuse me, where is your consultation time? Can you prove your consultation time?" Where is the verbatim draft of the case? Come to be my assistant, you didn’t even have a consulting file when you submitted your resume, how dare you say respect to me here?”

"The certificates I have obtained and the consulting techniques I am good at are all on my resume." I silently deepened the corners of my mouth, "I think these are enough to show my seriousness and sincerity, Teacher Fan."

"Oh!" Fan Dongfang chuckled meaningfully, looked at me casually and began to recite my resume, "National third-level marriage and family counselor, senior sand table therapist, senior hypnotist, senior NLP practitioner, He is good at painting therapy, box therapy, hypnosis, handwriting analysis, imagery dialogue, fine points, cognition, behavior and other consulting techniques... Tsk!"

Fan Dongfang leaned on the back of the chair, his unscrupulous gaze gradually turned into scrutiny: "Little Daji who is knowledgeable and talented, please explain to me what psychoanalysis is in one sentence."

This gentle and handsome man is obviously just sitting gracefully and quietly on the black leather sofa chair, but there seems to be a field that cannot be refuted and questioned to suppress me, making me involuntarily ignore his repeated "Daji" several times, gently licking and biting He lowered his lower lip and said softly: "Psychoanalysis is free association, and it is a treatment method for neurological disorders."

Fan Dongfang's phoenix eyes were unwavering, and although he didn't see any joy or anger, it was obvious that my well-regulated, even thoughtless answer did not satisfy him.

I looked at Fan Dongfang calmly, and suddenly found that after the gentle smile on that naturally ruthless face had disappeared, it turned out to be extraordinarily ruthless: "Teacher Fan, please correct me."

"My time will only be used to correct and teach my assistants and students." Fan Dongfang raised his hand and looked at his watch, "Tell me which consulting technique you are most specialized in."

None of them can be called specialization. I have these certificates and have learned these technologies, but it is because I have this convenient condition.

Of course, I can't answer that. After all, I came here with a "sacred mandate" and a "purpose".

Although I look down on this man very much, I don't want to be too embarrassing. My self-esteem does not allow me to be here, which makes me feel very... Toothache, yes, old meat has hard bones in it, and it is very toothache to chew. I would make a fool of myself in front of a painful man, so I carefully chose the technique I am most familiar with: "sand table."

Sure enough, as I expected, Fan Dongfang got up and walked out the door.

This is the first time I have looked at Fan Dongfang so closely and unscrupulously.

The slim beige casual trousers wrapped the slender and straight long legs, and walked past me with almost perfect steps. I smelled the faint smell of cologne and turned around to follow him. I was almost caught by his sexy My waist swayed my thoughts.

This damned man is so fucking delicious!

If there is no self-repression, and it is up to me to decide, I think, I will kill him without hesitation.If he is thrown into the kingdom of Datong, this man may be able to overwhelm the country.

Maybe it was because my gaze on his ass was too hot, Fan Dongfang stopped suddenly, turned around halfway, stared into my eyes inexplicably, and ordered gracefully in an unquestionable tone: "Follow me to the sand table Let me make a sand table in my room, you'd better use the 1 minute on the road to figure out how to operate, my time is precious."

I raised my eyebrows, took off my hat and bowed empty-handed, and said with a teasing smile, "Of order."

Fan Dongfang snorted softly from his nasal cavity, turned around, and reprimanded softly as he walked: "Also, let your ego be the goalkeeper."

"..." A psychological counselor with real materials is too embarrassing. This powerful insight has simply raped my right to free fantasy.

Fan Dongfang said it was 1 minute, but he pushed open the door of the sand table room at No. 60 seconds.

The sand table room is about 25 square meters, covered with beige wallpaper, and there is a small closed balcony facing the door. On the balcony, there are several pots of vigorous green radishes at different heights. There is a pair of rattan chairs near the balcony. There was a pack of papers on the table, obviously, that was the place for the interview.

I casually took a cup of warm water from the water dispenser at the door, automatically switched to the role of the sand table teacher, and slightly bowed to Fan Dongfang who stopped at the door and made a gesture of invitation: "Hello, please come inside."

After Fan Dongfang Shi Shiran sat in the rattan chair on the left, I put the water in front of him and sat opposite him: "Come today, what shall we talk about?"

Fan Dongfang remained silent, with his eyes downcast, turning the paper cup unhurriedly, the warm sunlight shone on his body, his long eyelashes were hidden under the black-rimmed glasses, dotted with colored spots.

From a distance of less than one meter, I quietly admired the face that seemed to be carved out of a chisel, and I seemed to feel sadness from it: "You are sad."

The long eyelashes trembled, Fan Dongfang slowly raised his eyes, and stared at me with hatred and love in his eyes, turbulent.

Even though I knew it was fake, my soul was still shaken by this affectionate gaze.

I couldn't help looking back at Fan Dongfang, and after a full minute, I suppressed my beating heart and suggested peacefully: "If you don't want to speak, then we can use another way of communication, okay?"

Fan Dongfang lowered his eyes and held the paper cup in silence for a moment, then nodded slightly in agreement.

I stood up and handed my right hand to Fan Dongfang, palm up, as if I were inviting.However, it wasn't until my arms were sore that Fan Dongfang put his four slender fingers in my palm.

I gently folded my palms together, exerted a little force, and stopped the fingers trying to pull away in time. The thin calluses on my fingertips rubbed against my palms, and the itchiness seemed to spread all the way down my arms and into my heart.

I couldn't help but look at Fan Dongfang suspiciously. He still played a perfectly autistic visitor. It seemed that the teasing I just thought was just my illusion.

I held Fan Dongfang's hand, led him to the sand table, and led his hand to the sand box, wanting him to touch the sand, but at the moment when he was about to touch the sand, his fingers suddenly pulled away from my palm .

I raised my eyes to look at Fan Dongfang. The quiet and melancholy person just now has returned to the gentle and elegant teacher Fan. Teacher Fan's half-smiling eyes are like sharp knives, which have been carved into my heart.

I know that his sudden interruption of this consultation means that he is impatient to continue wasting time with me.

I was the most confident in the sand table, but I barely finished the interview and was stopped.

I shrugged, suppressed the regret and unwillingness in my heart, pretended to be indifferent and smiled: "It seems that I don't have the honor to be Teacher Fan's assistant."

Fan Dongfang didn't comment, turned around and walked to the sink on the right side of the door, washed his hands slowly, then looked at me in the mirror and commented casually: "The interview was a mess."

I put my hands halfway into the pockets of my suit pants, walked behind Fan Dongfang, and looked over his shoulder at the face in the mirror that was naturally ruthless: "Teacher Fan, please correct me."

The corners of Fan Dongfang's lips raised slightly three times: "I said that I only correct and teach my students and assistants."

My fingers curled up into fists in my trouser pockets: "Ms. Fan, please give me an excuse to report to my boss."

Fan Dongfang turned around, looked down slightly, stared into my eyes, and said with a chuckle, "It turned out that I was taking advantage of your wishes. I thought that the principal didn't need me to make excuses for you."

Fan Dongfang was about five centimeters taller than me, standing face to face at a distance of less than one foot, and the body temperature from my exhalation seemed to spill all over my face when I spoke.

I raised my chin slightly, and looked back at Fan Dongfang with a sense of unwillingness to show weakness: "If I say I regret it, can Teacher Fan give me another chance?"

I don't know what pleased this man. Since we first met, his eyes were filled with a smile for the first time: "Of course, but with your performance in the interview, you can only start from the lowest level of assistants. Would you like to help me?" ?”

I raised the corner of my mouth and chuckled confidently: "I believe that I will soon be Teacher Fan's first assistant."

Fan Dongfang smiled: "Mr. Yisuke in the future, please prepare a car for me now, and go to the Human Resources Department to complete your entry procedures within 10 minutes. I will go to the vicinity of T University in 10 minutes."

I was suddenly a little curious about Fan Dongfang's background. The 29-year-old chief physician occupies the best specialist clinic in the Department of Psychology of Lecheng Central Hospital. He hired an assistant to enter the largest private hospital in Lecheng City. Takeaway is just as casual, and you can join the job as soon as you say you are hired.

The entry procedure is like a contract of selling oneself. Although I have the intention to stay by Fan Dongfang's side as an assistant, I am not willing to sell myself just because of this.It’s just that the situation is stronger than others, so I can only obey for the time being, and while seeking knowledge, I will counterattack Fan Dongfang innocuously to obtain Ah Q’s spiritual satisfaction: “Teacher Fan, what do you mean by psychoanalysis?”

Fan Dongfang seemed to have understood my heart, and covered me for a moment with a very unscientific look like the doting eyes in the legend, and said casually: "I know that my behavior is dominated by my consciousness, I want to ask why the unconscious is so dominated .Now you have 9 minutes to check in and get the car ready."

The author has something to say: Freud: id, ego, superego.