The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman.

Chapter 1583 Fishing Day ([-])
The sky darkened at an unimaginable speed, and the few people sitting on the shore began to pack their things. Natasha stamped out the flames with her boots, and then buried the fire with soil, leaving only a wisp of inconspicuous smoke.

"Did someone tell you that there might be bears here?" Natasha said inadvertently as she kicked away the stones beside the fire.

"Did someone tell Xiong that we are here?" Schiller said without looking back while holding his stool, "Especially, did someone tell Xiong that there are Russians here?"

The red-haired female agent laughed wildly, and said out of breath, "Stop making jokes about stereotypes, it's not funny at all."

At this time, the voice of Ivan and Steve talking intermittently came from the front: "Yes, at that time, in order to prove that I was an adult, I rushed into the woods and killed a bear with my bare hands..."

Natasha pursed her lips, made a grimace, quickly caught up with Schiller, patted him on the shoulder and said, "Russia does not have this kind of coming-of-age ceremony. When I was an adult, I ate cakes like Americans."

"And next to it is the head of the previous black widow, right?" Schiller was not polite at all.

"What kind of people do we all look like in your eyes? Savages with hair and blood?" Natasha raised her eyebrows, and the lights of the lakeside hut shone on her face, making the three-dimensional facial features undulate like mountains under the night .

"Stereotype," Schiller commented, sounding professionally like a psychiatrist, but then added: "There are always a few Russians who have never killed anything, or drunk in their dreams. Something, right?"

"There must be. You can go to Moscow and look for them. Maybe you can find a few of these softies."

They followed the lights of the cottage by the lake to the front of the porch. After opening the door, they found that the fireplace hadn't been heated yet, and the room was full of humid cold air. Inside the chest were several pieces of completely unburnable wood that had been dampened.

"Looks like we're going to start chopping wood." Steve strode into the house with an ax in hand, and said in that bravado tone, "'Where's the bear, where's the bear?'—do I look like Like a Russian?"

"You're far away. Usually at this time my father has already come in with the bear's head. He chopped it like a firewood, and the blood just splashed on the firewood pile behind our hut..."

"Dr. Vanke, don't scare these Americans anymore." Natasha sat on the sofa and raised her delicate chin and said, "In case our Captain America, who has always been known for his bravery, insists on finding a bear here to show you .”

"Your estimate is completely wrong." Schiller took her words, but also teased Steve: "Our Steve is not Tony Stark, and he doesn't have that untimely competitiveness. Stimulate him, and he will only vent his anger on the firewood."

The good-tempered Steve just smiled and shook his head while holding the axe. Nick's heavy footsteps sounded from behind him. there is none left?"

With a sound of "Hula", the window behind the sofa opened, and piece after piece of freshly chopped firewood flew in. Eric didn't even move his fingertips, leaning on the single sofa as if he was sleepy, using that Said in a still unflattering tone: "It seems that you are really playing some kind of 'pretend we don't have superpowers' game."

"Oh, please!" Natasha spread her hands speechlessly and said, "I thought there were other special difficulties besides wood, or you were trying to embarrass Captain America, why would anyone really want to chop wood?"

Nick quickly slid to the chair closest to the fireplace, wrapped his jacket tighter and said, "Thank God, thank you superpowers, it's no fun playing ordinary people, who's going to make the fire a little bit hotter?"

Steve also came into the room. He squatted by the fireplace and lit some twigs and stuffed them in. Soon the flames burst into flames, and the warmth made people drowsy, and in the sleepiness, some Even more aimless chatter was going on without a clue.

"I don't know why you two don't plan to start a family anymore." Nick looked up at Charles and Eric as he polished his boots, and said, "Eric still makes sense, he already has Children, how about you, Charles."

"Do you think that children and family are interchangeable?" Charles asked again in a tone full of academic vocabulary.

"Usually, it means that some attempt to start a family has failed."

"But it's not a complete failure. In other words, if it is coerced by external forces or limited by the times, there is no need to be pessimistic." After Charles finished speaking, he glanced at Eric next to him.

"Do you think you love someone first and then want to start a family with him, or do you want to start a family with someone to prove that you are in love with him?" Steve asked.

"You want to ask whether love and family are necessarily related?" Schiller was looking for a possible tea set in the kitchen of the cottage at this time, and said: "Or, you want to know whether love is necessarily related to family, including your love Objects, including children."

"I think that love is only related to the sense of responsibility, and family is a manifestation of the sense of responsibility. When the love is so strong, it is inevitable that you will want to be responsible to each other urgently, and then you will start a family." Schiller Answered like this.

"If you don't start a family, is it a lack of responsibility? Is it because you never fell in love with someone?" Natasha asked with a frown.

"This offends too many people, including me." Schiller dug out a small bag of tea from the cupboard, opened it, inspected it, and said, "There is one step between responsible thinking and starting a family, and that is reality." , an idea is just an idea if there are no real conditions.”

Charles turned to look at Eric again, and Eric was like a cat enjoying the softness of the sofa and the warmth of the fireplace, as for the rest, he was also like a cat, probably hearing it but not caring at all.

"So, doctor, are you not starting a family because of reality?"

This question is a bit sharp, but considering that it is Captain America Steve who asked him, it doesn't sound too forced.

"First of all, I'm an autistic person, so don't ask too much of my emotional ability." Schiller plugged in the kettle and said, "If happiness and anger are the bottom of the pyramid in ordinary times, then for a person Wholehearted love is the tip of the pyramid, and any psychopath who lacks compassion and empathy tells you that he is truly in love with someone, just listen."

"You can't get the truth out of him." Natasha looked at Steve and said, "Autism is like a standard answer to all personal problems, and you have nothing to say except sympathy for him." said."

Steve pushes his lower lip up until it pushes up against his upper lip, which looks like approval and disapproval.

Schiller came over with a plate of hot tea, put the cups in front of them one by one, and said, "Of course, this is only part of the reason. Generally speaking, the desire and hormone secretion of autistic patients are normal. , so they won't be dysfunctional."

Hearing such topics, Natasha immediately raised her eyebrows with interest. She picked up the cup of hot tea, leaned forward, pressed her elbows together on her knees and said:
"Actually, I have pursued several professors or Ph. D.'s. The biggest reason I am interested in them is their aggression that is inadvertently revealed under their gentle and polite appearance. The process of chasing them is like hunting people under the skin. beasts—I love hunting."

Now, it was Eric's turn to look at Charles. Charles was more like a dog curled up in a blanket, with moist eyes and a cheerful face, as if he didn't want to bite anyone at all.

"Studies have shown that people's interest in people who look like ascetics is similar to the excitement of breaking a taboo, and some people deliberately hide their sexual side to attract these people who are interested in tasting the forbidden fruit. object."

"Is that so with you, Doctor?"

"There is also a possibility." Schiller didn't care about Natasha's slightly aggressive eyes, just looked at her and said: "It is a last resort to avoid love life as much as possible."

Eric glanced at Charles again, who was still innocent and cheerful, but not empathetic.

Natasha moved her body forward, and her body only occupied the front third of the sofa. She held the cup in both hands, looked at Schiller from under the broken red hair, and said, "Then, what makes a healthy What do men have to do?"

Schiller sighed deeply, groped the side of the teacup with his fingers and said: "People's desires always grow with age, and the morbidity of mental patients also grows with age. Sometimes, desire will be easily infected by pathology, resulting in some deviations beyond the ideal range..."

"It's like this again." Natasha shook her head and said: "The scholars I have pursued are half as professional and boring as you at this time. I knew it would be difficult and quit, doctor."

But at this time, Ivan next to him said thoughtfully: "Actually, I seem to have encountered this kind of situation. I have seen people link violence and sexual desire. I don't know about this situation." How did it happen, but the consequences of this are much more serious than ordinary people imagine."

"This is definitely not flirting." Ivan pursed his lips and said as if he was recalling: "The murderer stabbed a girl to death, and then he..."

It seems that Ivan didn't say the word related to sex because he was conservative, but just felt confused, incomprehensible and a little scared. He shook his head slightly and said: "When the police took him away, he was so excited trembling, and kept saying he gave her the most 'noble' love."

Steve shuddered, not because of murder, but because he couldn't understand the perverted thinking. He took a sip of tea to calm himself down, and then said: "If you love her, kill her, such people really exist ?"

Suddenly, he realized that Schiller was actually defending himself by shifting the topic here.

Seeing Steve's eyes cast towards him, Schiller sat down on the sofa with a teacup, shook his head and said, "Don't look at me like that, I'm not that kind of person."

Steve was about to breathe a sigh of relief when Schiller went on to say in that flat tone, "I'm not going to be taken by the police."

　This is a daily unit

It takes more brains to write daily, hair loss
　
(End of this chapter)