Chapter Twenty-Five: The Avoidant Personality

“You have to admit, that psychologist really was something. After just a few sessions, you were back to normal.”

“From then on, you became eager to help others, got along well with the other kids, and later you even became the leader of all the children at our orphanage… Looking back now, maybe the path you’re on today was already set back then.”

“All these years, I was always worried about your health, but now things are looking up. What’s that place called again… the Void! If we humans can find more advanced genetic technology in the Void, maybe we’ll finally cure your illness. See? Good things really do happen to good people…”

The director rambled on, chuckling to himself from time to time. It was obvious he was genuinely happy for Chen Nian.

“Thank you, Director,” Chen Nian said softly.

“There’s no need for thanks—just getting a call from you after you came back from in there is enough to make me happy. If you get a chance, come back and visit. The kids at the orphanage are all inspired by the stories I tell them about you. Who knows, you might end up with a few more little fans.”

“Alright. I’ll come back if I get the chance.”

…

After hanging up, Chen Nian fell silent for a long time. It was clear now that his psychological troubles had begun when he first arrived at the orphanage. But as for the real cause, it lay even further back, before he entered the orphanage. Yet that whole period was a complete blank in his memory.

…

He hadn’t tried to hide this call from the Space Force soldier stationed nearby. Perhaps noticing something off about Chen Nian, the soldier offered, “Would you like me to find you a psychologist? Quite a few people from your group are experiencing psychological issues after coming out of the Void.”

Chen Nian looked up at him, then nodded slowly. “Yes… thank you.”

“No problem. Please wait here.”

With that, the Space Force soldier turned and left. About ten minutes later, a middle-aged woman in uniform entered, her expression warm and reassuring.

“Hello, I’m the Space Force’s psychologist. You can call me Dr. Wang. Is there anything I can help you with?” Her tone was calm and steady, carrying a sense of trust.

Seeing her, Chen Nian felt his mind settle. “Here’s the thing, Dr. Wang. I’d like to ask you a question.”

“Go ahead. You can tell me anything, and I promise I’ll keep it confidential.”

“Is it possible,” he began, “for someone to suddenly become a different person without realizing it? Someone who seems completely normal in everyday life. Not just in their own mind, but in the eyes of everyone around them as well. Do you understand what I mean?”

Chen Nian described the scenario he had been pondering.

Dr. Wang’s expression grew thoughtful. After a moment, she replied, “That is possible. In psychology, we call it avoidant personality. In recent years, it’s become quite common.”

“Could you explain it in more detail?”

“Of course. Most people develop an avoidant personality because they encounter something in reality they simply can’t accept. Subconsciously, they want to escape. Over time, a new personality forms—the one you described, a sudden shift into someone else. Maybe my explanation is a bit abstract. Let me give you two examples.”

“The first is a middle-aged man. He worked long hours and rarely spent time with his wife and daughter. One day, they died in a tragic accident while out on a trip. He couldn’t accept it; he was consumed by regret. Later, he hired a metaverse company to create a virtual house for him, where he set up NPC versions of his wife and daughter. He began spending hours each day in this virtual home, accompanying the two NPCs. Over time, he forgot the reality of their deaths and became much more gentle, almost like a changed man—no longer obsessed with making money.”

…

“The second example is of a young woman who had always dreamed of attending Imperial Capital University. But her grades weren’t good enough, and in the end, she got into an ordinary university. She refused to accept reality, so she convinced herself she’d been accepted into Imperial Capital University. After graduation, she acted like an entirely different person, believing she truly was an alumna of Imperial Capital University—she even put it on her résumé. This made her extremely confident and outgoing. That’s avoidant personality.”

…

Chen Nian sat in silence for a long time after listening.

Dr. Wang was patient, not rushing him. At last, he asked, “How can this avoidant personality be treated?”

She shook her head slightly. “Usually, if it doesn’t affect others, there’s no need to treat it. If you feel normal, if your life is normal, then why seek treatment? Sometimes, escaping past trauma isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

“Is it possible for the avoidant personality to conflict with the original one, like a split personality, both coexisting in the same body?” he pressed.

“It is possible,” Dr. Wang paused, then continued. “For example, if the person sees hope for healing their trauma. If the man from the first example discovered he could bring his wife and daughter back to life, then his original personality might reawaken and clash with the new one that had formed. In the second example, if the young woman actually received an acceptance letter from Imperial Capital University, her original self would resurface as well.”

“Hope…” Chen Nian murmured. In that moment, many things became clear to him.

Though hard to accept, the truth was unmistakable. He was the second personality. As for why the other self had reawakened, it must have been because he’d glimpsed hope of resolving his obsession. That hope came, unmistakably, from the Void.

The Void had given humanity too much room for imagination. Even the idea of achieving immortality seemed almost restrained by comparison.

…

“I am the second personality, conjured up by his need to escape reality… which means, the way I am now is what he secretly wishes to become. He longs to be an ordinary person, which is why I can’t access this body’s powers. He yearns to be helpful. He wants to be liked, to be the focus of countless people’s attention. He wants to radiate positivity and protect others. The real him…

…is probably the opposite.”

At this, Chen Nian instinctively raised a hand to his forehead.

For some reason, a scene appeared unbidden in his mind: in the shadowy corner of the orphanage, a small boy sits against the wall, a book in his hands. Not far away, a group of children are playing boisterously. He watches them in silence, longing to join, longing to step into the sunlight. He even wants to help up the little girl who’s fallen nearby during their games.

But…

Some force holds him back, keeping him apart from everyone else. After struggling internally for a while, he returns to his book in agony.

…

If that’s really the case… then what force is holding him back? Could it be that his terminal illness is contagious? Impossible! Surely, if he could just forget everything, he could live the life he’s always wanted.

What memory is restraining him? What is the obsession that binds his heart?

“Ugh…”

A sudden, stabbing pain shot through Chen Nian’s head. Instinctively, he clutched it with both hands, collapsing to the floor, his body no longer under his control.

“Chen Nian, calm down! Don’t let your mind run wild!”

Dr. Wang’s anxious voice rang in his ears—clear as day—but Chen Nian’s consciousness was rapidly fading into darkness.