Chaoying Psychotherapist [Zhongyingmei]

"Really? But I checked it just now. The gas stove in the kitchen is obviously broken."

Is the gas range in the kitchen broken?

Of course it was bad, in a state of disrepair.

Clark is well aware of this.

He also knew exactly what method he used to make this sumptuous meal perfectly.

The heart that did not belong to humans began to beat wildly.

"I...I..." He stared blankly at Cynthia, his voice was difficult and hoarse, but he didn't know what to say.

The little reporter was so anxious that he almost cried.

Cynthia looked at him and sighed.

"I don't think you are a bad person." She said in a deep voice, "When I first met you, I felt that there was something wrong. You are too ordinary, no matter what I want from looks, voice, grooming, etc. I observed you from all aspects and found out your characteristics, but I found nothing. At first I had the worst intentions for your true face, but as the time we spent together increased, I gradually changed my mind. "

Those pale, almost colorless eyes fixedly stared at Clark, with a slight smile inside.

"I've always been a good judge of people." Cynthia said gently, "I choose to believe you, Clark. I just want to know the truth."

Clark stared at her blankly, and after a while, a layer of red appeared on his face.

"I..." He lowered his head and adjusted his glasses, "It's not that I don't want to tell you, Cynthia, I just... I was thinking..."

Cynthia shook her head: "If you really don't want to tell me, then don't force yourself."

Clark gritted his teeth.

"No, I'm willing to tell you." He said, and showed a long-awaited expression, "If... If I tell you, can you promise not to get angry with me?"

Cynthia: "??"

Cynthia: "Why should I—"

Clark took a deep breath, pinched the temples of the glasses on the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, and took off his glasses resolutely and as if looking at death.

A pair of eyes bluer than the sky clearly appeared in front of Cynthia's eyes.

Cynthia: "- mad at you...Superman???????"

After taking off his glasses, Clark's demeanor changed suddenly. Those youthful, clumsy, unremarkable, rustic... The characteristics of a social animal and a small town boy all disappeared.Even though he was wrapped in a bulky and ill-fitting work suit, his aura was so strong that Cynthia felt like she was dreaming.

Sunshine, handsome, confident, powerful...that is the aura unique to Superman.

The three primary colors of red, yellow and blue, small curly hair, long cloak, Son of Tomorrow, Apollo on earth, the most handsome and powerful existence on the whole earth - Cynthia just met yesterday, Superman.

"Superman?????" Cynthia was confused and shocked, "Are you Superman?? You are Superman??? But Superman, isn't Superman called Kal-El..."

Clark touched his nose: "Kal-El is my Kryptonian name, and the one my parents on Earth gave me is Clark Kent."

"Wait a minute." Cynthia made a pause gesture, "Let me clear up...you are Kal-El, so...the last time I saw you in Kansas, the lady next to you was named Ma Sarah, that's your..."

"That's my mother," Clark said.

"Okay." Cynthia nodded, "Kal-El is Superman, Clark Kent is also Superman, and Clark is Carl... You pretended not to see me in the watchtower yesterday???!!"

Amidst Cynthia's suddenly raised voice, Clark flinched pitifully.

"That's because..." He struggled for a while, but gave up, and decided to lie down and be scolded, "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, Cynthia. I didn't tell you my real identity."

Cynthia took a deep breath.

"...Forget it." She pressed the center of her eyebrows, "This is also a normal thing, superheroes should pay attention to their own personalities, it's nothing... I just think..."

She sighed, "I feel like an idiot."

"Why do you think so?" Clark opened his eyes wide. "I deliberately hid my identity. It's normal for you not to recognize me. Why blame yourself?"

"Oh, 'very normal', is that so?" Cynthia asked in a deadpan tone, "A long time ago, when I saw Batman for the second time, I recognized his true identity."

Clark: "..."

Cynthia: "His methods of hiding his identity are endless, but you just hide your curly hair and wear a pair of black-rimmed glasses."

Clark: "..."

Clark tried to comfort her with difficulty: "Although...but...my glasses cite the technology of Krypton. According to the earth, it is a meme-level prop...Compared with B's method...should also be It's not too bad... right..."

He spoke more and more quietly.

Cynthia sighed again.

"Don't let him hear you, Clark." She said, and sat back at the dining table. "In the end, the limit of human beings is still no match for a small prop of aliens——ha, for this alone, I must I have to forgive you."

"No no no no—"

Clark took a step back in horror, and kept waving his hands: "Don't say that, don't tell him that, Cynthia. I really don't want to fight him again."

Cynthia couldn't help but shook her head.

"I get it, I get it," she said with a smile, "I won't tell him. Don't do anything to be the enemy of the Bats, even if your name is Superman, right?"

Clark nodded apprehensively.

"Hmm... Is this a sign that humans have won against you, Clark?" Cynthia spread her hands.

Clark gave a wry smile.

"I actually..." He lowered his eyes, and those sky blue eyes dimmed, as if the night was coming, "I actually don't quite understand why human beings want to compare with me... I became a superman, just want to protect Everyone, it's not for the sake of winning, but..."

He sighed.

"Never mind, I guess the answer to that question will never satisfy me," he said, shrugging. "You, Cynthia. Why do you keep calling me 'Clark' when you know I'm Superman?"

Cynthia raised her eyebrows: "Why, you don't want me to call you by your name?"

"No, it's not." Clark shook his head, "It's just... you know, when we first met, I met you as 'Kal-El', I thought you would prefer to use this name."

"'Kal-El'..." Cynthia murmured, "that's your Kryptonian name, it's your Kryptonian identity, isn't it?"

Clark nodded and said, "That's right."

Cynthia laughed.

"I prefer 'Clark,'" she said, "because it's your human identity."

Clark was taken aback.

"Human identity?" he repeated.

"Maybe it's because my way of perceiving the world is different from ordinary people—you know, I'm also an alien." Cynthia blinked at him, "I can feel that there is a human part in you .and I like them better."

"But I'm a pure-blooded Kryptonian," Clark said, puzzled.

Cynthia laughed.

"What do blood and body represent? At least to me, they are nothing." She said, "I saw your name, Clark Kent. The first five are the parents looking through the dictionary and looking forward to it day and night. , the letters crowned for you with love; the last four are your family, inheritance, and representative, and they are things that can prove your belonging.

"'Having these nine letters, you are a human being,' said Martha. And so you were encased in a human core in a body of steel branded 'Kal-El' Kryptonian —your soul and heart, Superman, and their name is Clark Kent."

"You were born on Krypton, and your first words, first footprints, and first smiles all happened on Earth. You were a human first, then a Kryptonian, and finally, you decided to become a Superman."

Under Clark's dazed gaze, Cynthia smiled softly, took two steps towards him, and patted his shoulder.

"Maybe your Kryptonian body gives you unparalleled abilities, but only when you also have a human soul can you truly become superhuman." She said that the light brought by the light color was so dazzling that she looked like a deep-sea star Like the most precious pearl in the world.

"Don't be hard on yourself, and don't feel alone. I'm always grateful that you have the human parts, and don't forget them in yourself."

Clark's heart beat faster again—his heart beat faster than ever.

He fixedly looked at Cynthia with his two purest blue eyes.The goddess of moonlight, the woman who is closest to God, seems to contain all the stability and comfort in the world in her smile, as long as she speaks, she has the wonderful power to stabilize people's hearts.

A long time ago, when Superman was very young, he had just learned that he was not human.

The little boy sat on the hillside, looking into the distance in confusion, thinking: I am not a human being, what is that?

He looked at the big tree beside him: Maybe, I am a tree?

He is a tree.

This tree stands alone on the hillside here.

It grows high, surpassing man and beast.Even if it wanted to talk, it couldn't find anyone who understood him: it was so tall.

Now, it waits and waits - what is it waiting for?

He lived too close to the cloud's dwelling: perhaps it was waiting for the first lightning?

For countless days and nights, Clark stared at the pedestrians under his red cloak, whispering quietly and lonely in his heart: "Want to hear a secret?"

"Want to hear a secret? Human.

I am Kryptonian.

On a sunny day, I can do anything.

So, every day...

no matter what happens……

...seems like it's all my fault. "

Then, today, on this night, in the wooden cabin under the warm fire, Cynthia came up to him and said, "It's not your fault."

"You are also an ordinary person, and you also need to be cared for and saved. So, it's not your fault."

Superman was in a trance for a long time.

Of course, he didn't see it—on his shoulder, Cynthia's palm rested there, flashing a familiar light.