"But now, these should not be problems. You earn enough money to live, to pay tuition, and even to hospitalize your mother for treatment. You can even hire a nurse to take care of her around the clock."
"Yes, but I don't know how to choose..." Cobblepot hesitated a bit, not trying to conceal anything, but his ability to express himself kept him from fully describing his state of mind. So, Schiller had to lead him by asking, "If you don't know how to choose, what are your options?"
"I can keep working, earn a lot of money, open a restaurant, and then buy a luxurious house for my mother to live in... That was my plan...", Cobblepot said somewhat indistinctly, biting his lip.
"When describing your goal, you seem to feel ashamed, why is that?"
"Because Professor Fries described to me a completely different life, his experiences..."
"What was that?"
Cobblepot hesitated, unable to speak out, which was totally different from him eloquently describing his criminal schemes.
His imagination for a better life was scarce, let alone the language and vocabulary to describe this state of life.
"He lived in a very good family, in a big country house, had a large yard, siblings, a dog, rode to school in a car, studied in a classroom, from middle school to high school, then got into a very good university with excellent grades..."
Cobblepot's vocabulary seemed hollow, as he described these aspects of life as very good, very big, very happy. Schiller caught on to this and asked, "What do you think is a big house?"
Cobblepot gestured with his hands, then said, "Probably like those houses in the rich southern district."
"Did Professor Fries describe it to you that way? Does his house resemble those in the wealthy southern district?"
Cobblepot shook his head, "No, he didn't say that."
"Perhaps what you were focusing on was off. The point of his talking about these things was not to show off how wonderful his childhood life was, or how large his house was, what car he had, or which good school he attended."
"He was not boasting about how happy his childhood was, or telling you that if you went to high school, you would live that kind of life..."
"You have presumably good memory. Have you noticed any difference between when he was describing this life to you and when you are recounting his words to me now?"
Cobblepot paused for a moment, then said, "I don't have his rich vocabulary, nor do I have his abundant emotions. I feel my mind is blank..."
It's as if he opened Pandora's box, yet his tone shivered at the end, as if to spit out the final sounds hastily.
"When he described that life to me, it was very infectious, which made me both envious and jealous. But now when I have to describe it, I can't..."
"There could be two reasons for this problem. One reason is that you've never experienced such a life; all your fantasies about a good life are merely wishful thinking due to lack of experience. But even more importantly..."
"Cobblepot, do you know why people study?" Schiller took a sip of water. Cobblepot replied, "To gain knowledge? And then get a degree?"
"That's only part of it."
Schiller put down the cup and explained to Cobblepot in the simplest possible terms, "Think of your brain as a finely tuned machine. However, no matter how finely tuned, it needs regular movement to avoid rusting."
"When your brain is always rotating in one direction, it will develop inertia. The gears and parts will change their composition according to the direction you rotate, and then in this aspect, your brain will spin faster and smoother. Then, the gears and parts will fit together better and spin even faster,"
"This will make your talents in certain areas stand out, but it will also bring many problems. When these parts specialize towards a particular direction, they are sacrificing balance in exchange for efficiency, which will lower the level of mental stability."
"Now you should have discovered that when you think about conspiracies, crime, interpersonal relationships, business patterns, your brain operates smoothly. That's because you were born and raised in Gotham, where these things are more useful than art, literature, and philosophy."
"But the process of studying is actually the process of regaining balance for your brain."
"You're not supposed to memorize all the books about art, literature, and philosophy in the world, and use them in daily life, which is impossible."
"Just as studying advanced mathematics won't particularly help you manage a tap water system, there's not much high theory involved in managing a tap water system."
"But it is actually helping the gears and parts of your brain to grind in another direction, making it more balanced and stable."
"Apart from gaining knowledge, we also learn ways of thinking from studying. When you face a situation, using more varied thinking, looking at the problem from a more comprehensive perspective can greatly enhance your mental stability."
"When you have more perspectives to look at an issue, you're in a much better position to avoid dead-end thoughts or extreme emotions."
In Schiller's eyes, Cobblepot could see a calm force that encompassed all, stronger than what he sensed from Victor.
For the first time, he understood the metaphor that "eyes are the windows to the soul" for in Schiller's eyes, he saw an endless vast ocean.
The last time he felt like this was when he faced the Godfather. Yet, the Godfather's demeanor was more like a fierce storm on the sea, while Schiller seemed more like the unfathomable deep sea, serene and harmonious, yet bottomless.
Cobblepot rubbed his tightly clenched fingers together, feeling a burst of cold, but not because of the weather.
In his somewhat scanty imagination, he felt like a penguin standing unsteadily on the ice. Above him was the stormy night in Gotham, and beneath his feet, the unfathomable sea.
Now, there are two paths before him. Does he want to be a bird carried away in the wind, or does he want to dive into the sea, to become a fish swimming forward in the sea of knowledge?
For the first time, the gears and parts of his brain, which were always rotating in one direction, started to grind against each other. To him, it sounded like a thunderbolt in the cold night.
But Cobblepot was not frightened. Once the fireplace in the room was lit, a barely perceptible warmth wafted over.
If the rain in Gotham never ceased and he had no umbrella to shield from the storm, then he shall dive into this sea, swimming forward in the currents and whirlpools, until he finds where he belongs. He shall freeze the water, building a house out of ice cubes for himself.
With a "gulp", Schiller heard Cobblepot swallowing hard, but it sounded more like a baby waterbird leaping from the ice into the sea.