Who would study psychology unless they had some issues?! Chapter 760 - 650: Is It Really That Easy? (Part 2)

The most critical aspect is the "inhale four, exhale six" breathing technique: Aunt Zhang had been overbreathing out of panic, which exacerbated her feelings of suffocation. Extending the exhalation ti can quickly alleviate the suffocation sensation caused by overbreathing; moreover, the fixed counting rhythm can give her a sense of control, further reducing her panic.

Aunt Zhang’s chest initially heaved rapidly like a broken bellows; after following the counting and breathing three tis, her breathing gradually stabilized.

Taking the opportunity, Nan Zhubin brought over a basin of warm water, dipped a cotton swab into it, and gently moistened Aunt Zhang’s cracked lips: "Swallow so saliva, co on... Very good..."

"Look, the Clear Miasma Dew is flowing down your throat, dispersing all the miasma."

Aunt Zhang instinctively swallowed a mouthful of saliva, her Adam’s apple moved, and the hand gripping her throat loosened a bit.

The moisture from the warm water directly countered the dryness in the respiratory tract caused by overbreathing; guiding the swallowing action of saliva will naturally relax the throat muscles, further relieving the spasm.

In just two minutes, Aunt Zhang’s hand had moved completely away from her throat, and the cyanotic color of her face turned pale. She lay on the moisture-proof mat, gasping for air, her eyes gradually focusing from being unfocused.

"Now." Nan Zhubin softly said to the ergency social worker, "Take two people to move Aunt Zhang, the situation is urgent."

"Huh?" The ergency social worker blinked.

This whole sequence of actions seed lengthy to narrate, but in reality, it took less than two minutes.

Now... Is the situation still urgent?

"Very urgent." Nan Zhubin didn’t soften his expression due to his successful asures and remained extraordinarily serious.

The ergency social worker no longer trusted his own judgnt now but instinctively followed the instructions.

...

Just having cald Aunt Zhang, a muffled shout from Chonghui not far away interrupted: "Zhuren, look over here!"

Nan Zhubin looked up to see Chonghui firmly restraining a short, stout villager.

Before Chonghui arrived, it took two social workers to hold this short, stout villager down; even with Chonghui’s help, the other two were left standing aimlessly with their hands free.

Swish—the pairs of eyes followed Chonghui’s shout, casting hopeful glances.

The short, stout villager’s arms were covered in bloody scratches from the wrists to the elbows, with the deepest wounds still oozing blood, tender flesh rolling and exposed, and beads of blood trickling down the arms, creating dark circles where they absorbed into the moisture-proof mat.

Chonghui was kneeling over the villager’s waist and abdon, using a reverse joint holding thod to grip the villager’s wrists, his knuckles white from the strain.

The two social workers next to them weren’t entirely idle; one was trying to apply sterile gauze to the wounds but was repeatedly shrugged off by the crazed villager; another was attempting to communicate with him, saying things like, "We are disinfecting! Once it’s disinfected, it won’t itch anymore!"

However, their voices lacked the elents found in Nan Zhubin’s voice, resulting in an extraordinary penetration. No matter how they shouted, the villager seed not to hear, resisting the social workers’ persuasion with all his might, trying to push anything he could scratch against closer to the wound.

Nan Zhubin walked over quickly, taking a look.

A very classic case of [Dissociative Self-Harm State].

The trauma induced by the [Group Hysteria] had significantly raised the pain threshold of the short, stout villager; scratching the wounds provided temporary relief from the dissociative sense of "losing control over the body," forming a vicious cycle of "the more it hurts and scratches, the more at ease it feels."

Nan Zhubin quickly deliberated for a second, grabbing the iodophor cotton swab pack from Wang Lili’s hand as he passed by, crouching beside Chonghui, he whispered, "Ease up a bit, don’t hold too tightly, leave a breath so he can speak."

Chonghui paused, slightly relaxing his grip, and just as the villager tried to struggle, Nan Zhubin ripped open the cotton swab package, using tweezers to hold an iodophor-soaked swab, gently touching the shallowest wound on the villager.

Nan Zhubin didn’t forcefully stop him at first, but rather perford slight wound treatnt, utilizing the mildly cooling sensation of iodophor to stimulate the skin nerves, bringing the villager’s attention from his inner hallucinations back to the tactile sensation of the wound.

The next step was to avoid triggering a stronger resistance with sudden forceful intervention, adhering to the trauma intervention principle of "establishing contact before guiding."

"Just now, you saw how those folks outside were washing their hands, didn’t you? Also, that big brother who fell asleep." Nan Zhubin suddenly said.

Nan Zhubin said it abruptly.

When he spoke up, the two social workers next to Chonghui couldn’t help but shudder a bit.

"See this yellow dicine water; it’s the ’Protective Scale Ointnt’ given by the Dragon King," Nan Zhubin deliberately lifted the swab to the villager’s face to let him clearly see the yellow stain on the wound, "Your arms are Dragon Scales bestowed by the Dragon King. The itching ca when the miasma got into them just now. Once this ointnt is applied, it will encapsulate and suffocate the miasma, preventing the Dragon Scales from rotting."

As he spoke, his other hand gently patted the villager’s shoulder.

The rhythm was steady and regular.

The two social workers blinked—Wasn’t that iodophor? What is "Protective Scale Ointnt"?

The notion of "Protective Scale Ointnt" was still for the purpose of "cultural anchoring," repackaging iodophor with "Dragon King Faith" to facilitate a quicker acceptance of intervention by the villager; additionally, gently patting the shoulder was an innate calming action, similar to patting a crying child’s back to soothe them.

Using them separately might be ineffective, but combined, it’s different.

Indeed, the villager’s struggle slowed, his eyes riveted on the yellow stain on the wound.

"Really... Can it really encapsulate the miasma?"

"Of course, look at those villagers outside, and that big brother who just fell asleep," Nan Zhubin continued, nodding towards the direction outside.

Not thoroughly isolating these severely infected individuals from others was partly due to the limited conditions of the placent point; on the other hand, it was hoped that through intervention with mildly infected individuals and potential infectees, a substitute healing effect could be generated for these severely infected individuals.

Sure enough, upon Nan Zhubin’s ntion of this, the villager’s struggle further eased.

"They had itchiness on them, but after using the ’Exorcism Soup,’ they got better. Your ’Protective Scale Ointnt’ is specifically for protecting Dragon Scales, more effective than theirs," Nan Zhubin continued.

This step was also guidance on [social influence]; the cognition of [group hysteria patients] is easily influenced by those around them. The trust level of the villager towards Nan Zhubin was not high, but he had a natural affinity towards other villagers; using others’ cases as evidence made it more perceptible for him to feel "the intervention is effective," which was more convincing than re reasoning; simultaneously, directing the villager’s attention to others’ recovery states could divert his excessive focus on his wounds, breaking the negative state of "self-focus."

The villager first glanced at the villagers washing their hands, then looked towards the old man being taken away after being hypnotized by Nan Zhubin, with his struggles subsiding further.

Seizing the opportunity, Nan Zhubin used a new swab, employing a spiral thod for disinfecting from the wound center outward, light enough to flutter a feather: "Try perceiving this now; as you inhale, isn’t this ’Protective Scale Ointnt’ penetrating into your wound?"

It surely would, as anyone frequently using iodophor on wounds knows, it stings.

But the villager closed his eyes, remarkably displaying a look of enjoynt, then nodded.

"Very good, let’s exhale now—during exhalation, we’ll expel the miasma together."

Nan Zhubin demonstrated as he spoke, explaining that when inhaling, his chest expands, and when exhaling, it slowly deflates.

The villager naturally followed along twice, his scratching effort diminishing further.

This is purely [positive suggestion].

Taking advantage of the comfort he was receiving, Nan Zhubin signaled the two transfixed social workers to finish disinfecting and applying sterile gauze to all of the villager’s wounds.

After finishing, the two social workers seed a bit at a loss—was it really this simple? Was chatting and iodophor really all that was needed?

The second one, finished.

Without much comnt, Nan Zhubin turned around, looking at the remaining severely infected individuals.

...

anwhile, outside the placent point.

The imposing camp commander, accompanied by a squad of mbers maintaining order, bumped headlong into Weng Pinting and Bai Qinghua, who rushed over upon inquiry.