Chapter 14 Slap in the Face

Chapter 14: A Slap in the Face

Her therapist arrived remarkably quickly—especially after hearing what had just occurred—his expression turning inscrutable.

“Miss Su, do you find yourself momentarily unable to control your emotions when others compare you to your younger sister?” The doctor fixed his gaze directly on her, closely observing any shift in her expression.

Su Mi leaned back on the sofa, sipping her tea. She had to admit—the doctor truly knew how to strike at the heart of the matter. It seemed her mother’s money hadn’t been wasted after all.

“I consider that a normal emotional response. I don’t believe I have any problem. If a person can’t even express anger, *that* is a genuine emotional disorder,” she replied, utterly impassive.

The doctor shook his head slightly. “Nonetheless, self-control is a fundamental human capacity. Some people struggle to regulate their actions—but if those actions harm others or society, it already constitutes a serious psychological disorder.”

“Of course, I’m not suggesting you suffer from mental illness—I’m merely drawing an analogy. I also underestimated the extent to which your environment influences you. Later, I’ll prescribe some medication for you. Take it for two weeks and observe whether your mood improves. If it proves ineffective, we can adjust the dosage or switch medications. There will always be a treatment plan suited to you.”

“But the most effective therapy remains self-regulation. In truth, you needn’t grow so angry—or care so deeply about others’ opinions. People will talk. Some may deem you inferior to your sister, yet others will undoubtedly regard you as far more outstanding. You needn’t live by others’ judgments.”

Hearing this, Su Mi frowned. “I disagree. People exist within society—it’s impossible to completely shut out external voices. For instance, if your girlfriend told you that you were inferior to her ex in *that* regard, could you honestly act as though you’d heard nothing?”

Their eyes locked. The doctor adjusted his glasses. “Everyone perceives reality differently. We needn’t anchor our lives in others’ evaluations.”

“What if *every* girlfriend you’ve ever had said the same thing?” Su Mi countered.

The doctor paused—momentarily speechless.

“You see? When the same voice echoes from every direction, eventually you begin doubting yourself—wondering whether you truly *do* have a flaw.”

Su Mi’s expression turned grave. “So I simply wish to resist those inappropriate voices—because they are inherently wrong. Once they realize such words hold no power to suppress me, they’ll naturally abandon this behavior. Then I won’t need to live under others’ scrutiny anymore.”

After listening, the doctor couldn’t help but lift his teacup and take a slow sip. He found himself reluctantly conceding that Su Mi made a certain degree of sense.

Though her behavior had been excessive, her insight remained sharp—and her clinical assessment scores showed no increase. This was likely just a straightforward case of intermittent manic episodes.

“Please take the prescribed medication on schedule. Should you experience any adverse reactions, inform me immediately,” he said, suddenly rising to his feet.

Su Mi nodded politely and watched him leave the room.

Sometimes, human interaction is merely a process of psychological manipulation—and being manipulated. Especially when speaking with therapists like him, one must tread carefully; otherwise, she might begin questioning whether *she* was the one with the problem.

Why are people labeled “insane” called *crazy*? Because their behavior no longer conforms to ordinary moral standards or social norms—rendering them unacceptable to society. Of course, there also exists a category of mental illness rooted purely in consciousness disorders—triggering unprovoked attacks on others or acts of vengeance against society. That type stems from neurological damage.

Thinking of the female lead still hospitalized—and her grandfather admitted for hypertension—Su Mi felt compelled to visit them. What if she’d *actually* enraged someone to death?

Yet this incident confirmed that maxing out her combat talent had been the right decision. Otherwise, if she kept getting interrupted mid-rant, such a golden opportunity would have been squandered.

“Convert twenty points of luck value into combat talent—and another twenty into acting talent.”

“Conversion successful! Host’s total luck value: forty. Combat talent value: 100 (max 100)! Acting talent value: 80 (max 100)!”

The acting talent value didn’t require further boosting. A person’s acting skills should improve gradually—to build anticipation. Raising it to the absolute maximum all at once might make others perceive it as artificial or limited.

Combat talent, however, was different. After this episode, she grasped even more acutely how vital physical prowess truly was. After all—one needs capital *to go crazy*.

This time, it had only been a few bodyguards. But the original novel described the male lead’s personal security detail as foreign ex-military operatives. If she didn’t train urgently, next time she lost control, she might literally be dragged away by his bodyguards. Embarrassment was trivial—the real tragedy would be missing such a pivotal opportunity.

If she were to beat the male lead and second male lead senseless at the engagement banquet, she couldn’t even fathom how high her luck value would soar. Just two or three such incidents, and her luck value would surely surpass the female lead’s—allowing her to rewrite the plot and avoid imprisonment altogether.

Several major scenes remained in the original novel. She *had* to seize these opportunities firmly—no one would interrupt her performance again!

While servants cleaned the villa’s ravaged living room, she summoned the butler and instructed him to drive her to the hospital.

“Your mother instructed you to rest at home. Your grandfather and the others are at the hospital,” the butler replied, choosing his words with meticulous care.

After recent events—and drawing on years of professional experience and acute observation—he’d noticed that whenever anyone compared the Eldest Young Miss to the Second Young Miss, the former invariably lost composure and erupted in fury.

Yet upon reflection, it was entirely understandable. The Eldest Young Miss had grown up in an oppressively rigid environment—and now endured constant comparisons. Resentment was only natural.

He understood all that. What truly stunned him was that the Eldest Young Miss had trained for less than a month—and could already defeat professional bodyguards?

Moreover, her polished, precise movements bore none of the hallmarks of a novice. Or was the Eldest Young Miss simply *exceptionally* gifted in this domain?

“I just have a short temper—I’m not mentally ill. He’s my grandfather—I bear responsibility for visiting him.”

Su Mi bent down and slid into the rear seat, glancing at her watch. She’d only requested one day off. After seeing the female lead and her grandfather, she needed to return to the film set—otherwise, the director might be the next one to snap.

“Of course,” the butler murmured, daring not to add more—and personally drove her to the hospital.

It was a private hospital in the city center—partially funded by the Su family. Exiting the car, Su Mi entered via the VIP entrance and reached the private ward without encountering a single soul.

The female lead was hospitalized on the sixth floor—diagnosed with a mild concussion and undergoing further observation for possible complications. Su Mi decided to visit her first—even though she genuinely couldn’t comprehend the female lead’s self-sacrificial behavior. Perhaps her own moral compass simply sat too low to grasp such altruism.

Stepping off the elevator, she found the corridor packed tight with towering, broad-shouldered bodyguards—so densely arrayed that not even a fly could squeeze through.

But that was expected. Beyond being the Su family’s Second Young Miss, the female lead was currently enjoying immense popularity. Strict security was necessary to keep relentless paparazzi at bay.

Sometimes, even if the subject is visiting the surgical ward, media reports twist it into: *“So-and-so young actress spotted late at night at the hospital’s OB/GYN department—after prolonged absence from public view, reigniting pregnancy termination rumors.”*

For clicks, those outlets stopped at nothing.

“Stop!”

A bodyguard stationed at the corridor’s outer edge suddenly thrust out his arm to block her, his face stern. “No one is permitted entry. Please leave immediately.”

“…”

She’d nearly forgotten. These were the ex-military bodyguards the male lead had hired specifically for the female lead—they likely wouldn’t recognize her status as the Su family’s Eldest Young Miss.

“Oh—then tell her I stopped by.”

She took a fruit basket from the butler, placed it on the floor, then turned and strode away decisively.

“Stop!”

A voice thick with fury erupted from behind. Su Mi’s eyebrow twitched. Turning, she caught Qi Xi emerging from a room. His normally gentle expression had vanished—replaced by naked disgust and contempt.

Her fists itched to throw a punch.

“Ruan Ruan ended up like this *to save you*—and you can’t even bring yourself to step inside and see her? Is *this* how a sister behaves?” Qi Xi advanced, his face twisted with undisguised revulsion.

Su Mi almost laughed. She half-wanted to crack open this idiot’s skull and check whether it was filled with paste.

She’d originally planned to deal with this moron at the engagement banquet—but circumstances had clearly shifted.

“Are you ill? If so, go see a doctor. Coincidentally, this hospital has my family’s investment—I can get you a discount.”

She sneered. “I suspect your ears aren’t working either. Can’t you hear them refusing me entry? What do you mean I *dare not* go in? Should I fly in to see your precious Ruan Ruan?”

“Besides—we’re not blood-related. Don’t lecture me about sisterhood here. *She* was the one who lunged at me. I’m being magnanimous by not suing her for staging an accident. *She* should compensate *me* for emotional distress!”

Terrified she’d erupt again, the butler hastily stepped forward to intervene. “The Second Young Miss likely needs rest. And your sincerity—that’s what truly matters.”

Qi Xi frowned, his handsome face filled with disdain. "Indeed, someone like you isn’t worthy of being called Sis Ruan Ruan."

Their eyes met, and Su Mi smiled instead of getting angry. "You're the one who leaked my dirt last time, aren't you?"

Hearing this, Qi Xi took a step forward, looking at her with mockery. "So what if it was me? I was just telling the truth. Don't think I don't know your intentions. You're just jealous that Ruan Ruan entered the entertainment industry, so you're trying to oppose her at every turn. Unfortunately, you lack self-awareness. Someone like you isn't even worthy to tie her shoelaces."

"Ding! Key plot triggered!"

The butler’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly stepped between the two. However, Su Mi grabbed his arm and pulled him aside.

"You and Su Ruanruan are truly a perfect match. One is a useless fool kicked out of the inner circle, and the other is a meddlesome adopted daughter who doesn't know her place. No wonder incompetent people like to stick together—misery loves company."

Su Mi smiled faintly, then pushed off the wall into a lightning-fast side kick that struck Qi Xi squarely on the left side of his face. The move was so fast Qi Xi had no time to react. He was sent stumbling backward several steps, only managing to steady himself when a bodyguard quickly caught him.

The searing pain on his face served as a stark reminder of what had just happened. Clutching his left cheek, now marked with the imprint of her shoe, Qi Xi glared furiously at the audacious woman before him. Blinded by rage, he forgot all about his rule of not hitting women and clenched his fist, ready to teach this reckless woman a lesson.

"Young Master," the bodyguard quickly stopped him, shaking his head slightly.

From Miss Su’s movements just now, it was clear she was trained in martial arts—otherwise, her technique wouldn’t have been so professional, catching the Second Young Master off guard. If she had aimed for his temple, he might have ended up in the operating room by now.

Judging by the young master's abilities, he was likely no match for Miss Su.

"You’re asking for death!" Qi Xi pushed the bodyguard aside, his eyes blazing with fury as he glared at the woman who had dared to strike him.

Su Mi gave him a dismissive once-over. "Call you useless and you still won't admit it. With trash like you, I’m afraid you’d dirty my shoes."