Who would study psychology unless they had some issues?! Chapter 89 - 89 88 I hope what works is Emotion Rebalancing

89: Chapter 88 I hope what works is “Emotion Rebalancing,” not “Charm 89: Chapter 88 I hope what works is “Emotion Rebalancing,” not “Charm Nan Zhubin already had a draft in mind.

However, the visitor’s emotions hadn’t settled yet, so Nan Zhubin was still waiting.

At this mont, he really wished his [Emotion Rebalancing] could be used on others.

Nan Zhubin used so Emotion Soothing words, taking a little ti.

“Thank you for listening to for so long, Mr.

Nan.

It’s because of this matter that I really didn’t want to co for counseling at first.

I was worried…

that you would have so opinion of .”

The visitor finally stopped crying.

Nan Zhubin avoided the part about “opinion,” and simply said:

“I’m glad you ultimately chose to co here.”

Then he began to regain control of the counseling pace: “I just heard many things you said, and I learned a lot about you.

These things all seem to have a starting point, which is the argunt you had with your boyfriend the night before last.”

“Yes.” The visitor seed to find an outlet, “If it weren’t for the argunt with my boyfriend that day, I wouldn’t have encountered so many annoying things afterward!”

“That argunt is also the reason you scheduled this consultation.

So back to the question—what do you hope to gain from this counseling session?”

Counseling can’t proceed aninglessly; setting counseling goals is paramount.

But the visitor suddenly got stuck at this mont.

She glanced at Nan Zhubin and pursed her lips.

After a few breaths, she shook her head: “I don’t know either, I just…

don’t want to continue as I am now.”

Nan Zhubin maintained a smile: “That’s okay.

Helping visitors explore their issues and clarify their thoughts is also part of my job.

So now I want to know more details, which requires your help in recalling, is that okay?”

“Okay.” The visitor nodded.

She adjusted her sitting posture and exhibited a ready and eager stance.

“Let’s now rewind the tiline to the mont when you had the argunt.

He discussed the matter of marriage with you, and you refused because you didn’t feel he loved you.”

The visitor’s eyes flickered: “Yes.”

Nan Zhubin smiled faintly: “But from your subsequent behavior, it seems there are deeper reasons beyond this one.

At that ti, your thoughts were likely more than just ‘he doesn’t love you enough,’ right?”

The visitor stiffened her neck: “I don’t want to be forced into marriage…I feel I am still young, and I don’t want to decide my future like this.”

“Why do you think your boyfriend suddenly brought up this issue, why at that particular mont?”

“…What do you an?”

Nan Zhubin intentionally asked: “Was it that your boyfriend ‘all of a sudden’ gave you an ultimatum without any sign in the days or weeks leading up to it?”

The visitor shrugged, responding quickly and vaguely: “Maybe, he did act a bit strange that day.”

“That’s quite normal.” She added, “Nowadays, n are becoming more like won, don’t you think?

Thinking about marriage and having kids all the ti, it’s quite exaggerated.”

Nan Zhubin raised a point of doubt: “But you previously stated, ‘When I was watching a show, he was playing gas on the side, everything was normal.

But he suddenly stopped, turned to , and teared up.’ Things seed to happen all of a sudden, quite unexpectedly.”

The visitor blinked: “It was sudden, but his expression was strange when he was eating earlier that day.”

Her pace of speech began to quicken, nodding continuously with small, rapid movents as she spoke.

“At that mont, there was a feeling of sadness, and I knew sothing was wrong, I could tell.”

“So I asked him what was wrong?

He answered , saying ‘I don’t want to continue like this anymore’.

“Then I got annoyed and said, ‘Alright, so now it’s going to be another choice between getting married or breaking up, right…?”

Enough.

Nan Zhubin decisively interrupted her: “So it was actually you who gave the ‘ultimatum’, not your boyfriend.”

“Actually, you’re the one pressuring your boyfriend to marry, not the other way around, right?”

…

The visitor froze.

Her beautiful eyes widened, a mont of bewildernt spreading across them.

“I…

gave what?” She seed to want to gloss over.

“The ultimatum.” Nan Zhubin refused to let it slide.

“No, he kept bringing up marriage repeatedly.

It was him being pushy…”

“‘Bringing it up repeatedly’ and ‘ultimatum’ are two different concepts.” Nan Zhubin interrupted again, “And—did he really ‘keep bringing it up repeatedly’?”

The visitor opened her mouth.

But looking at Nan Zhubin’s eyes, suddenly couldn’t speak again.

The things she had been hiding were brought into the open, unavoidable, only to face them.

So she began to remain silent, began to think.

Of course, by herself, she couldn’t have taken this step.

Perhaps after a while, she would habitually enter [defense], disguising, fabricating new stories and reasons.

So Nan Zhubin seized this mont when she began to think, raising a hand.

He softened his tone again: “In the story you told today, there are so details that are contradictory, but there is sothing that remains unchanged.

Do you know what it is?”

The visitor asked blankly: “What.”

“Fear—or rather, terror.”

Nan Zhubin spoke out the things he recorded using [Micro-expression Analysis]: “What happened to you at the bar last night made you afraid, but this expression of fear is consistent with the emotion when you talked about arguing with your boyfriend.

More directly— the fear you felt due to the bar incident is an extension of the fear from arguing with your boyfriend.”

“The one eager for marriage is you, not your boyfriend.

But you were rejected multiple tis, which led to frustration, even fear.”

“No one likes fear.

This fear is not just a blow to your relationship, but even an attack on your feminine allure.”

Nan Zhubin glanced at her fitted skirt and exquisite makeup.

“So you desperately wanted to eliminate this compounded fear.

You chose two ways: one is going to the bar, hoping to be approached by n; the other is coming here to narrate to as the consultant, transposing the roles and shaping yourself as soone carefree, young and unwilling to quickly settle down, who could even go to a bar for a fling right after rejecting a marriage proposal.”

“But none of this is you.”

Nan Zhubin’s words were blunt.

The visitor fell into silence.

In [Confrontation], this kind of defensive silence is quite common.

Nan Zhubin glanced at the clock, just as he was planning to sum up this counseling session and wrap it up.

The visitor suddenly raised her head: “All this…

can you see it within such a short period, Mr.

Nan?”

She uneasily twisted her body in the low-cut, sleeveless bodycon dress: “Are all consultants…

this capable?”

Nan Zhubin blinked.