Chapter 256: Snowy Night Campfire (End)

When Alberto left, the sky had already darkened; Shi Ler hadn't even rested a moment before the doorbell rang again.

This time, Bruce stood outside the door, wearing a high-collared sweater beneath a trench coat, looking sharp; as Mrs. Miller passed by, he smiled and nodded at her, making her overjoyed.

When he sat across from Shi Ler's desk, watching Bruce's expression grow serious, Shi Ler said: "You haven't shown up at Gotham University's psychological clinic in a long time—why are you scheduling treatment at Arkham Hospital again?"

"You haven't shown up at Gotham University's psychological clinic in a long time either, Professor."

Shi Ler sighed: "You're the one who booked the therapy—don't act like you're negotiating a business deal for control. Who's the doctor here, you or me?"

"If you insist on winning every negotiation, I suggest you go home and talk to the wall."

Bruce's lips moved slightly, then he said: "It's Alfred…"

"Your butler? What's wrong with him?"

"Earlier, Yin Wensi stayed at my house for a few days. Alfred was delighted—but after he left, I could clearly sense Alfred was feeling down."

Shi Ler looked into Bruce's eyes: "Isn't that normal? Everyone feels a little sad when a friend leaves."

"I think you realized this—that what's truly troubling you now is realizing Alfred has been living in loneliness all along, and you never cared enough to notice."

"He raised me. I know his tastes. I once bought him opera tickets, wanted to take him traveling, even considered building him a retirement home—but he refused all of it…"

"Do you think he's upset because he liked Yin Wensi, and now that Yin Wensi is gone, he's lonely?"

"Isn't that it?"

Shi Ler shook his head: "I think he was happy because you let Yin Wensi stay over—or rather, because you made a friend at university."

"But…"

"You're going to say you don't need friends? Or even deeper—that you believe you don't need unnecessary emotions? Then what do you feel for Alfred?"

Bruce's lips moved again, but he didn't say the word—he clearly didn't want to utter it. Shi Ler pretended he'd heard it: "Let me compare Alfred to your parents. I assume you won't object to that analogy."

"Typically, healthy parents feel joy and relief when their child brings friends home and gets along with them—mostly because they're glad their child is growing socially, but also because their emotional and rational minds rejoice at seeing their child capable of normal emotional connection."

"If your child can give and receive affection normally, it means they feel your love—and when you're certain your love is received, you feel immense joy, because that's how emotional feedback works."

"Conversely, if your child shows indifference to everyone around them, as if their heart is dead, parents begin to worry—whether their child can't feel their love, or whether their love simply wasn't enough to nurture the child's capacity for emotional exchange…"

"Alfred is the same—he pours all his emotion into you. When you show any negative change, he reflects on himself; when you show positive change, that positive feedback returns to him, making him happy."

"This is the most ordinary emotional bond between parent and child—put yourself in their shoes, feel what they feel."

"Now do you understand the reason behind Alfred's emotional fluctuations?"

Bruce nodded, signaling he fully understood the theory, then asked: "So what should I do now?"

"That's for you to decide. I think Alfred knows you well—he knows which parts of you are real and which are masks."

"He's happy about your friendship with Yin Wensi—so can I infer the opposite: that you've gained some positive emotions from this friendship?"

Bruce said nothing. Shi Ler sighed: "I don't have telepathy, Bruce. If you won't speak, are you expecting me to guess?"

"If by 'positive emotions' you mean the exhaustion from sleepless nights and the annoyance of being dragged to listen to outdated operas—then yes, there's some of that."

"I recall bats are mammals, not birds…" Shi Ler looked at Bruce; Bruce looked back, unsure why the topic had shifted—then Shi Ler added: "Birds aren't as stubborn as you."

From the Beginning of the Douluo: The Wanderer

"Sleepless exhaustion? Why didn't you complain when you wore that tight suit patrolling all night? Annoyed by old operas? If Yin Wensi could even beat you, he wouldn't need a bomb to blow himself into the church pit…"

Bruce showed no embarrassment at being exposed—he remained expressionless: "I came to find a solution. I can't let Yin Wensi live in my estate forever—even if Alfred doesn't mind, Selina will be furious…"

"Before seeking a solution, you should first state your problem."

"I already stated it—I noticed Alfred has been trapped in loneliness, and I want to change that."

"I already gave you the answer: you're happy, your butler is happy; you're unhappy, he's unhappy."

Bruce fell silent again. He realized he'd been led into another dead end—according to this logic, making Alfred happy was simple: make himself happy.

Theoretically, this solution should work—but practically, it was nearly impossible, because Batman was perpetually unjoyful.

Not that he was unhappy—just that his emotions barely fluctuated.

The room fell quiet again. Shi Ler offered no further advice, because normally, he would now delve into Batman's psyche—exploring why he was unjoyful and how to fix it.

Considering such research might constitute academic infringement on the Joker, Shi Ler decided not to pursue it further.

"Is it possible," Bruce asked again, "to stop his emotions from being entirely tied to me?"

"That's a valid direction. Let's stick with the same theory: parents often go through this process—if they truly believe their child is already happy enough to thrive without them, understanding that their child's greatest source of joy is no longer parental care…"

"Then they'll consciously redirect their emotions—either toward others, or back toward themselves."

Shi Ler capped his pen with a soft click and looked at Bruce: "Do you have any plans to get married?"

The sudden shift in topic left Bruce stunned.

"I'm not joking. If you're planning to marry soon, Alfred might escape this state—or better yet, have a child with Selina—that would solve it fundamentally."

Bruce shook his head slightly. Shi Ler continued: "Another possibility: a parent's unfulfilled obsession outweighs their love for their child. When they revive that obsession, their emotions detach from the child and attach to the obsession instead."

"Obsession…" Bruce muttered, frowning. Shi Ler pressed: "It might be rude, but I have to ask—does your butler still have living relatives?"

Bruce shook his head again. Shi Ler asked: "Has he ever been married or had someone he loved?"

Bruce paused a long time, then shook his head again. Shi Ler asked: "Do you mean you don't know—or you know but aren't sure?"

"I know some things, but not in detail. That might be the problem—he knows me well, but…"

"Alright. You've memorized the details of everyone around you—even strangers you've passed once on the street—but you've never deeply learned about your closest butler… perhaps that's precisely what makes him special to you."

"Alright, you've investigated everyone around you, even memorizing the details of strangers you've only seen once on the road, yet you know almost nothing about your closest servant... perhaps this is precisely what makes him special to you."

The fireplace in the room had burned fully, flames growing stronger—but as night deepened, the temperature dropped further. When rain returned, it had turned to tiny ice crystals, then to pale snowflakes.

It was hard to imagine a city on the East Coast snowing in autumn—but Gotham had been absurd for so long, one more oddity didn't matter.

Shi Ler sat behind his desk, while people came and went before him.

To Cobblepot, drowning in life's choices, the desk became an icy sheet—this slender bird wobbled and tumbled off it, and as it fell into the sea, it saw a faint flame in the deep blue.

Yin Wensi, dual-faced, entered—the room became his stage. Outside, thunder cracked; when lightning struck, blinding light split the room in two—one half black, one half white—and when a flame ignited along that dividing line, it burned brighter than the sun.

Before Yin Wensi had fully left, Batman walked in—his inner snowstorm was darker and colder than anyone else's. The flame had nearly faded to invisibility—but he still stood there, as if even an illusory glow could offer him warmth, however psychological.

The three figures beside the campfire stood alone. Soon, more shadows approached—some familiar faces lingered briefly before vanishing into the snowstorm; others were faint, as if separated by a cosmic barrier.

When the wind howled and the flame grew weaker, those who came and went tossed logs onto the fire—the crackling sound returned—and the doorbell rang sharply. Shi Ler looked up: a figure with green hair stood outside, holding a bottle of wine.

When the cold wind suddenly rose and the flames grew fainter, passersby tossed firewood onto the pyre, and the crackling roar returned, a shrill electric bell rang. Xieler looked up to see a figure with green hair standing outside the door, holding a bottle of wine.

Seeing the protagonist work another exhausting day, the author laughed.

Seeing the author type another exhausting day's worth of words, the reader laughed.

Seeing the reader work another exhausting day, the protagonist laughed.

The world of everyone being a joker has been achieved √

The world of everyone being a spectator has been achieved √