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Thousand Faces
墨書 Inktalez
The morning sunlight filtered through the gaps between the tall buildings, casting a soft glow over every corner of the city and wrapping the entire street in a gentle halo. Ethan Murray parked his car by the roadside and walked along the cobblestone path towards the clinic building. His steps were steady and strong, a cup of freshly bought black coffee in hand, the aroma of morning coffee lingering at his nose. He took a deep breath and slightly raised the corners of his mouth. This was his favorite moment—the day was about to begin, and the next few hours were filled with endless possibilities.
Pushing open the glass door of the building, Ethan skillfully entered the elevator and pressed the button for his floor. As the elevator began to ascend slowly, accompanied by the faint hum of machinery, Ethan instinctively adjusted his tie. The metallic surface of the elevator doors reflected his calm and confident figure—this was a habit he repeated every day; no matter how chaotic the outside world was, he always maintained a neat appearance and composed demeanor. This not only helped him stabilize himself but also instilled trust in those patients who needed his help.
"Ding—" A light sound echoed as the elevator doors opened slowly. Ethan stepped out with his coffee, walking briskly towards the clinic's entrance. The glass doors of the clinic were bright and transparent, everything inside appeared orderly, just as he had hoped. He pushed open the door with a cheerful heart, greeted by the familiar scent of the clinic.
Two young nurses at the front desk were busy organizing documents. Upon seeing him enter, they immediately broke into smiles. "Good morning, Dr. Murray!" Their voices were crisp and cheerful, as if every morning greeting marked a vibrant beginning.
Ethan waved at them with a gentle smile. "Good morning! Everyone seems so energetic today; it makes me feel more motivated too." As he spoke, he walked around the front desk, sensing that every detail in the clinic was running smoothly, which gave him a sense of solid satisfaction.
However, as his gaze shifted to the right, he noticed something different in another corner of the clinic. Senior nurse Becky—a long-time employee who had been with him for years—was sitting at her desk with a stack of patient files spread out before her, yet her movements were unusually slow. She leaned lazily against her chair's backrest, her expression listless as if she hadn't rested well last night.
Ethan's lips curled into a smile as he approached her, teasingly saying, "Becky, starting to relax so early today? You look like you're still dreaming."
Hearing his voice, Becky lifted her eyelids slightly and glanced at him, managing a weary smile as she replied lazily, "Morning, Dr. Ethan. Well, I don't have your level of energy. I feel like I just finished yesterday's work and now have to face a new day right away." Her voice carried a hint of hoarseness, laced with laziness and dissatisfaction, as if she hadn't fully recovered from last night's fatigue.
"I thought you managed to keep up such abundant energy every day," Ethan continued to tease, hands tucked into his pockets as he leaned slightly closer and pretended to be serious. "But honestly, without your laid-back atmosphere, this clinic would lack a lot of vitality."
Becky scoffed lightly and rolled her eyes while still leisurely sorting through her files. "If you want me to have more energy, don’t schedule so many patients for tomorrow. Also, this coffee is too weak; it doesn't do anything for me." She gestured toward her own cup of coffee that was already half-drunk.
Ethan chuckled and turned towards his office. "I can't let my patients down; they come here just to see me."
Becky's voice came from behind him, tinged with familiar mockery: "Yeah, you really are the star of this clinic. I wonder if those patients come for treatment or just to see you."
Ethan chuckled lightly, feeling a sense of stability from this familiar interaction. Mornings like this made him feel that even with new challenges every day, this clinic remained a sanctuary in his heart. He pushed open the office door, took a deep breath, and prepared to face the challenges of the day.
As Ethan entered his consultation room, the familiar scent of wood mixed with a faint hint of disinfectant greeted him. He walked in and carefully placed his coffee cup on the corner of the desk, then casually tossed his briefcase onto the nearby sofa. The documents and notebooks inside shifted slightly before settling down again. Ethan sat back in the leather chair, feeling the slight rebound of the cushion against his back. He rubbed his temples and pressed the power button on his computer. While waiting for the system to boot up, he glanced out the window; the morning light was still soft, but time seemed to be slipping away silently.
The computer screen lit up quickly, and he logged into the system, opening today’s appointment list. As patient information appeared one by one, he found himself speaking aloud, habitually sketching each patient's situation in his mind.
"Let’s see who’s first… oh, it’s that lonely middle-aged woman neglected by her wealthy husband again." A slight smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head in resignation. Her issues were no longer new; each complaint and worry seemed unable to change her circumstances, yet she continued to seek psychological comfort in his clinic time after time.
He scrolled down to the next name: "Next is that engineer who has been struggling with insomnia for a long time." Ethan sighed softly. This patient was burdened daily by endless work pressure and chronic sleeplessness, with deep bags under his eyes and a tense demeanor. It seemed that every visit was merely an escape from a dull and oppressive life.
"Then there’s… the young idol with appearance anxiety." Ethan couldn’t help but shake his head. She was a newly debuted idol, young yet extremely insecure, often distressed by external evaluations. Her entire world seemed to revolve around her looks, unable to break free from the constraints of her own reflection.
Finally, he spotted a familiar name. "Oh, and there’s that balding uncle who has been dealing with depression." He couldn’t help but chuckle; although this patient always wore a frown, he had a gentle heart and sometimes interjected dark humor into their conversations. This self-deprecation seemed to be a peculiar way for him to confront his own depression.
Ethan closed the schedule and furrowed his brow slightly, silently pondering how to find breakthroughs in each session today. Behind every patient was a soul trapped in its own cage, and as a psychologist, it was his responsibility to find the key to set them free. He reached for his coffee cup and took a gentle sip; the warm liquid relaxed him just a bit. Then he turned his gaze toward the door, ready to welcome his first patient of the day.
Time passed without him noticing until the balding uncle's voice gradually softened. He sat across from Ethan, hands resting on his knees, showing signs of fatigue but with gratitude shining in his eyes. He lifted his head slightly; his somewhat hoarse voice carried a hint of a smile as he said, "Thank you, Dr. Ethan. I don’t know what I would have become if I hadn’t come today."
Ethan sat opposite him with hands clasped on his lap, exuding calmness and professionalism. Looking at this patient brought him some relief; after so many sessions, he finally saw some faint progress. Ethan nodded gently and spoke in a warm yet firm tone: "You know that science can explain many things happening in your brain—like those chemicals and hormones affecting your mood and emotions; we can understand all that through science."
He paused briefly to observe the other man's reaction before continuing: "But the most important things cannot be fully explained by science. Your inner determination and self-belief—those powers cannot be measured solely by data or experiments. Ultimately, what will help you emerge is not me or those medications; it is you yourself. This is a path you must walk on your own."
The balding uncle furrowed his brow as if digesting Ethan's words. His fingers tapped unconsciously on his knees before he revealed a wry smile: "Relying on oneself sounds easy when said but is incredibly difficult when put into practice."
Ethan smiled lightly, his tone carrying a hint of encouragement. "That's right, it's not easy. But every time you come here, every time you sit down and are willing to open up, that's already a part of relying on yourself. You're making progress; sometimes you just might not notice it." He pointed to his head. "Every change here happens slowly, and you have already begun to harness your own strength."
The older man took a deep breath, fell silent for a moment, and finally nodded. "I will remember what you said, Dr. Ethan. Perhaps I still have a long way to go, but at least today, I feel like I can hold on a little longer."
Ethan nodded with a smile, a wave of calm satisfaction washing over him. "That's enough; day by day, you're stronger than you think." He stood up and extended his hand. "Well then, see you next time."
The older man shook his hand and said gratefully, "See you next time."
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