In the afternoon.
A taxi parked on the side of the road.
Shi Tingbai got out, looking at the alleyway ahead. It was brimming with life - even the clothes hung out to dry by the locals and the children playing in the alleyway.
He frowned, looking at the slip of paper in his hand.
Could a psychological clinic in such a place...be reliable?
He was starting to doubt it.
Lowering his head to check the small slip of paper again, he ran his fingers through his hair, muttered a curse under his breath, then walked in.
Having navigated the noisy lanes, he finally found himself standing before an old-fashioned wooden door.
He looked up, and sure enough, he saw the signboard above: All-healing Psychological Clinic...
Number 250...
It damn well is number 250.
He stood at the door for a while, feeling slightly nervous. After some hesitation, he pushed the door and entered.
