Chapter 23: The Recluse and Psychology

Love always arrives quickly, and leaves just as swiftly. It wasn't until Liu Mengchao had escorted Gui Yanye to her doorstep that he realized he had been wandering outside the whole day.

Is this what Einstein called relativity? Liu Mengchao was in such high spirits that he couldn’t help but make fun of himself. With someone you like, a whole day feels like a second; with someone you dislike, a single second stretches into a year.

He looked up at the setting sun and sighed. The world is as fluid as water, human relationships as cold as frost. Yet, there are too many people who muddy these waters, making everything unclear.

Liu Mengchao had always disliked so-called wise men—those who believed, with wisdom firmly in hand, that they could control the whole situation, making every judgment based solely on probabilities.

He, on the other hand, was just an ordinary person adept at psychology. All he needed to do was make those minute possibilities come true through the subtleties of the human mind.

The wise are responsible for realizing the 99% likelihood, while the psychologist ensures the 1% becomes reality.

It was time to go to the park. He had arranged to meet Li Yang at eight o’clock. This unnoticed shut-in, in Liu Mengchao’s plan, would become the first straw to break the entire Reincarnation Squad.

In the secluded park, Liu Mengchao looked at the cautious face of Li Yang and spoke, “You’re here.”

Liu Mengchao held a sharp fruit knife in his pocket as he observed the man before him. Li Yang had a round, chubby face, his eyes half-squinting, as if slightly nearsighted.

“Didn’t you ask me out? Said there was something important you wanted to discuss.” Li Yang glanced nervously around, speaking carefully.

So I’ve been underestimating you all along, Liu Mengchao thought with an inward smile. Pretending to be nearsighted, he could keep his facial muscles tense—especially the hardest to control muscles around the eyes—making micro-expressions much less useful.

Liu Mengchao steadied himself, trying to appear more amiable, though his words were far from gentle. “Are you really just a shut-in, Li Yang?”

One second…

Two seconds…

Three seconds…

Oh? Liu Mengchao almost wanted to laugh aloud. Has everyone mastered the golden rule—wait three seconds before lying in response to accusations?

But psychological pressure isn’t so simple.

With a smile, Liu Mengchao watched the shut-in before him—or rather, Li Yang, who also knew some psychology. Let’s see, just how deep does your understanding go?

Liu Mengchao’s gaze suddenly turned cold as he leaned forward slightly. He knew this would create a sense of invasion, an oppressive feeling that he was entering Li Yang’s personal space.

This pressure, combined with the stress of lying, would make Li Yang slip up, and then—he could be manipulated.

Tension! Pressure! Li Yang suddenly felt a wave of oppression. He realized Liu Mengchao wasn’t an average wise man with a high IQ, but a psychology expert he had never encountered before. Could the bits of psychological trivia he had picked up really deceive this man? For the first time, Li Yang regretted his curiosity. He must not show nervousness—after all, they were both newcomers.

It’s useless!

I can already see your secret!

Though Li Yang’s face remained stiff, his thumb and forefinger were rubbing together. In that instant, Liu Mengchao judged: a common self-soothing gesture, a sign of deep anxiety. Now he just needed Li Yang’s words to confirm it.

“I…”

Li Yang hesitated.

“You’ve watched ‘School Days.’”

“Yes!” The answer came quickly. Liu Mengchao smiled faintly. Does telling the truth so easily relieve your psychological pressure?

“You like Gui Yanye,” Liu Mengchao continued, watching Li Yang’s lips.

“No…” His lips didn’t move in the slightest—seems he’s telling the truth. While observing Li Yang’s expressions, Liu Mengchao deliberately slowed his own movements and made his facial expressions even more sluggish.

Micro-expressions are so named because they flash by too quickly to catch without careful observation. But if you keep a certain expression on your face long enough, the observer begins to wonder: Is this feigned, or is it genuine?

And psychology is far more than just reading micro-expressions. There are other fascinating aspects—like psychological manipulation, setting up the right conditions, and cold reading.

Cold reading is a theory circulated among pickup artists and extreme psychologists. They form a peculiar group, using special terminology, advanced psychological knowledge, and an understanding of the subconscious to turn themselves into successful and extraordinary social machines.

To borrow a saying among these social machines: “Men are just unattractive women.” In their eyes, everyone—man or woman—is merely a target to open up with cold reading and make believe in them completely.

Now, Liu Mengchao would casually, imperceptibly open up the shut-in’s heart. Approach him, lower his defenses, and then—manipulate.

First, open the palm. Liu Mengchao, as if unintentionally, let Li Yang see his palm, greatly increasing his sense of security.

Security is crucial when pursuing women—and in communication as well.

Sure enough, seeing Liu Mengchao’s open palm, Li Yang felt a mysterious sense of safety.

Is he casting a spell on me?!

Though his mind warned him to stay on guard, Li Yang’s face had already relaxed.

Excellent. Liu Mengchao steadied his mood, deepened his voice to make it low and magnetic. An overly flippant tone provokes aversion; a too-heavy tone causes intimidation.

The optimal speech rate, according to American theory, is about “three and a half” syllables per second, pausing four or five times during each long sentence.

But the words themselves are most important. Thanks to those social machines and psychology fanatics who invited him to study cold reading.

“Actually, you know what you want, but you’ve always thought you had no chance, so you never moved forward.” Liu Mengchao spoke slowly, observing Li Yang’s expression. Cold reading uses statements to instantly open people up. Everyone has something they can’t obtain; using that as an opener is perfect for unlocking hearts.

Li Yang’s expression proved the cold reading worked. The words struck home.

Astonishment!

In a quarter of a second, Li Yang’s upper eyelids lifted, then quickly returned to their original position.

A classic expression of surprise, quickly masked.

At that moment, the system panel chimed in as if on cue.

Prize pool: 13,500.

So, his cold reading was accurate. Cold reading is the artful use of ambiguous yet precise statements, causing the other person to unconsciously search their life and experiences for meaning, and gradually convince themselves that the statement truly describes them. The simplest example is the personality descriptions in countless astrology books.

“How does he know…?” Li Yang fought the urge to turn and run. He was beginning to believe Liu Mengchao could read minds—otherwise, how could he know him so well?

Usually, five cold reading statements suffice; if three hit the mark, it’s enough.

Liu Mengchao smiled and continued, “You find it hard to open up to others, which is unfortunate. You’re actually very warm and can make people laugh—you’re a charming person, though you haven’t shown it fully yet.” According to personality psychologists, those not good at socializing often harbor illusions of self-improvement, like having good relationships in the virtual world.

Sure enough, Li Yang was shaken.

How does he know I’m popular on the forums? I chat easily with many people—actually, I have lots of like-minded friends online.

Could it be… he doesn’t actually know…? Has he really figured me out in just these few days…?

Li Yang relaxed, his head lowered slightly. Liu Mengchao also noticed his spine bending a little.

Is gravity pulling you down? A classic defeat response—are you already ready to surrender, shut-in?

Now, for the third and final cold reading statement.

“You always feel your friends are distant from you.”

No! The moment the words left his mouth, Liu Mengchao realized he’d made a mistake. Cold reading statements need to be as long as possible; otherwise, their vagueness prevents the target from finding specific experiences to confirm them.

Sure enough, his premonition was correct. A spark of life returned to Li Yang’s eyes.

A failed cold read.

Li Yang seemed to revive from the shock of cold reading, opened his mouth to defend himself, then closed off his heart once more.

A clumsy psychologist at this point can only stare helplessly and witness his own failure, as most only prepare three cold reading statements per conversation.

“But… that’s not me.”

Liu Mengchao’s expression remained calm, as if the previous words weren’t his, and he spoke again.

“Even if you try to hide it, I can still see the hope shining in your eyes—you’re quietly wishing for things to work out perfectly.”

Open your heart and let me control you completely. There are still so many sentence patterns waiting for you.

So, surrender, Reincarnator!

―――――――――――