Song Wenwan and several judges also arrived at the testing area and took their seats on the combined sofa on the side. They silently waited, while several staff members repeatedly checked Van Gogh's blindfold to ensure that he couldn't see anything. This process was faithfully recorded by the camera and would definitely be broadcasted in the future to establish the program's reputation for authenticity and credibility.
After a while, a staff member affirmed, "Director, he really can't see anything. We tested it ourselves, and the blindfold is tightly covered, even the gaps on the sides of the nose are completely plugged with layers of cotton."
Only then did Song Wenwan explain the specific test content to Van Gogh and cautioned, "Remember, you cannot touch your subjects or communicate with them in any way. You can only sense them from a distance. Are you ready?"
"Let's begin," Van Gogh calmly nodded.
Song Wenwan said, "Please have our first test subject stand up."
Jeffrey was the first to stand up, giving a flirtatious look to the camera. He had a heavy makeup on today and was wearing a very flamboyant leopard-print tight shirt, looking somewhat androgynous. The strong smell of perfume and the sweet and powdery smell on him would definitely make someone unable to see believe he was a woman, which was the reason why the director chose him.
Song Wenwan continued to remind, "Van Gogh, you can sense now."
With one hand placed on his knee, Van Gogh extended the other hand and said slowly, "This gentleman, please extend your hand like I did, and spread out your fingers." As soon as he spoke, he pointed out Jeffrey's gender, while Song Wenwan and the others hadn't noticed anything unusual, thinking it was part of the blindfold.
Song Rui glanced at the people and suddenly laughed silently. When these people, who seemed awake but actually were not, and were similar to his previous self, were seen through the eyes of Van Gogh, did he used to look this foolish? It was quite embarrassing.
Jeffrey extended his arm, spread out his fingers, looking unimpressed.
Van Gogh suddenly stood up and walked towards the circular platform, not hesitating, and without adjusting his direction, he found his target. Jeffrey's eyes widened, breathing becoming heavy, almost shocked. He extended his hand with fingers spread out, looking like a complete fool.
The deputy director kept waving at him, telling him to retreat, but he had no way out. If he kept moving backward, he would end up sitting on the back of the sofa. The other two test subjects looked at him with a smile, completely unaware of the eerie undercurrent beneath this scene.
"Van Gogh, you cannot touch our test subjects!" Song Wenwan finally snatched the microphone and sternly warned.
The response she received was just a light laugh from Van Gogh, soft and ethereal, yet magnetic, making Jeffrey's cheeks blush uncontrollably. He pointed to his own ears, silently mouthing, "Damn! My ears are getting pregnant!" However, his exaggerated performance was soon forced to stop because Van Gogh had raised his hand, spread his fingers, slowly and inch by inch moving closer to Jeffrey's palm, accompanied by an invisible membrane that covered his body and seeped into his blood through every pore.
It was a feeling that was hard to put into words, and he couldn't confirm if it was real. Every hair on Jeffrey's body stood up silently, every inch of skin slowly tightened, and every nerve was pulled slowly, pushing his senses to the limit.
He began to recall his not-so-short but not-so-long life, with moments of sadness, pain, happiness, and joy flashing in his mind, like in a movie edited haphazardly using a montage technique. He didn't know why he suddenly remembered all of this.
He started to panic, feeling his body and consciousness were out of control, a terrifying feeling! It wasn't until now that he understood the tremendous power behind the term "medium." In front of Van Gogh, he was like a speck of dust, floating and sinking in the other's immense gravitational pull, and the so-called resistance and opposition were non-existent, and the previous contempt and disdain were even more ludicrous!
Jeffrey tried his best to move his hand, attempting to break free from this control, but was shocked to find that no matter where he moved his hand, Van Gogh could immediately follow, always maintaining a three-inch distance. He didn't violate the program's rules, but only Jeffrey knew that this invisible control was even more frightening than actual contact. His outstretched hand was firmly held by Van Gogh's hand, across three inches of empty space.
Everyone was watching this scene. The young man, whose eyes were completely blind, was standing face to face with Jeffrey, the palm print of their hands overlapping.
Song Wenwan repeatedly confirmed with the director that Van Gogh had not violated any rules, and that he indeed couldn't see, before finally having to admit that this person could really sense Jeffrey. He could...
Jeffrey was still making futile struggles. He moved his hand up, left, right, down, and Van Gogh's hand would immediately move in the same direction. The people around him were already stunned, completely unaware of the control and infiltration Jeffrey was enduring.
Finally, Van Gogh retracted his nearly transparent palm and began to slowly retreat. A staff member hastily ran over to assist him, only to find that he was walking backward, sitting back in his original position. His inability to see had no effect on him.
Song Wenwan's smug and condescending smile had completely frozen, while Song Rui had plunged a knife into her heart: "I've said it before, Van Gogh cannot cheat. We use our eyes to observe this world, but he uses consciousness. Do you understand what that means?"
"I don't understand," Song Wenwan shook her head absently.
Song Rui said with a light laugh, "You're right not to understand. If you did, you wouldn't be sitting here like a fool."
"Cousin, are you trying to insult me in every possible way?" Song Wenwan looked at her cousin in disbelief. When did he learn to curse people? Isn't he best at mercilessly mocking people?
Song Rui gestured with his index finger, silencing her, because Van Gogh had started speaking.
"Male, twenty-seven or twenty-eight," he said, gently clasping his chin with interlocking fingers, slowly speaking, "Sharp energy fills your body, making it difficult for you to remain calm. Your interpersonal relationships are poor, with more enemies than friends around you. You often find yourself in difficulties due to this sharpness, facing betrayal and criticism, leaving you feeling lost and struggling. The people who were once closest to you have long left, leaving you unable to move on."
In just a few brief statements, Van Gogh accurately pointed out Jeffrey's past and present. In that double betrayal, he lost his job, lover, and closest friend, nearly escaping from the world of fame and fortune, but still unable to heal the wounds in his heart.
The three judges didn't know much about Jeffrey, so they turned to look at Song Wenwan, who had her hand over her mouth, with wide eyes, looking like she was trying to scream but controlling it with all her might.
Jeffrey's eyes were already red, only then did he suddenly realize: this wasn't just a simple test, but a deep analysis, because in front of Van Gogh, he was completely transparent, making him feel both fearful and embarrassed. He didn't know what else Van Gogh would say, and he feared that his festering wounds would be exposed to everyone.
Sure enough, Van Gogh continued speaking, saying word by word, "You can only confront everything with a sharper edge, tearing apart beautiful things for others to see. You know that you cannot find happiness because you lost it completely three years ago. You detest hypocrisy, ugliness, and lies, and to avoid these, you reject all intimate contact and engage in indiscriminate attacks. However, you are becoming more and more detestable. Slander and attacks have always been with you. Many people seem to admire you, but you are not sure if they like the real you or the ugly side of you when you fight with others. So, you fall into deeper self-doubt, and what you ultimately want to tear apart is yourself."
Jeffrey opened his dry mouth, wanting to interrupt these bone-chilling words. If Van Gogh had a surgical knife, he believed that his heart and mind would have been dissected completely.
"Stop it, I withdraw, I won't participate in this test!" His cry was the best confirmation, so all the judges showed shocked expressions - Van Gogh was actually right!
"You don't need to withdraw," Van Gogh's voice remained calm, "The one who should withdraw has never been you. No one knows that when you face those betrayers with disdain and arrogance, in the dead of night, you curl up in your bed and cry secretly; when you vehemently win all adversaries in a debate, you leave the crowd, sit alone on the balcony in melancholy, feeling the wind. You detest hypocrisy, so you live authentically; you detest ugliness, so you have a pair of eyes that can see beauty; you detest lies, so you leave your most sincere self to those you care about. Yes, right now you indeed have no friends, but everyone who you consider as a friend sincerely loves you. Your gaze is always fixed on the past, so you hadn't realized that in three years, your surroundings have already bloomed with flowers. Your diligence and authenticity have won you a completely new world. You are worthy of their admiration. I can tell you for sure, what they truly like is you, not the so-called ugly appearance."
After a brief pause, Van Gogh sighed deeply, incredibly tenderly, "You are a beautiful thing yourself. You present the best side of yourself to others, while burying the most vulnerable part of yourself; you face adversaries with thorns, but reserve your soft belly for friends; you treat the world sincerely, so the world will treat you gently. If you try to open your eyes, you will find that happiness has long been by your side."
When Geoffrey spoke the latter part of his speech in front of Fengyluo, he kept covering his mouth, suppressing his inner emotions tightly until the last sigh finally wept two lines of tears. Then he looked around, as if in urgent confirmation - are his friends, his happiness, really there?
Song Warming, with red eyes, waved at him, indicating that she had always been there.
The director raised his hand, pointing to the photographer next to him, silently shouting: "Look at him, look at him, he loves you!"
The photographer was tall and rugged, with sexy bronze skin, and muscular muscles tight against his T-shirt, making him look very dazzling. He was blushing and looking at Geoffrey, his damp eyes filled with anticipation.
Geoffrey quickly covered the scream that was about to come out, because the man turned out to be his junior whom he had known for more than ten years. He loves him? When did this happen?
The three judges were all astonished because every word of Fengyluo had been verified in reality, and he had not really met Geoffrey until now, so how did he know this information? This unrequited love, perhaps even the person involved didn't know? Is it really possible for clairvoyance to reach such a degree?
However, Fengyluo quickly proved to them that it could! The communication of everyone in the venue was silent, but he, with a thick cloth covering his eyes, knew everything that was happening on the scene. He couldn't see, but he saw everything more clearly than anyone else.
Geoffrey then woke up as if from a dream, quickly came down from the stage, and held the hand of his junior. He didn't have time to think about his own feelings, and only heard a reminder from him and instinctively followed his words, and after doing so, he didn't feel any regret. Deep down, a voice told him - this time, your choice is right!
The photographer pulled the senior into his arms, excited but restrained, swearing, "I will never let you cry alone in bed again, I'll always be here."
The two quickly separated, and the recording scene was filled with endless applause. This scene softened the hearts of many, making them suddenly realize that the world was so beautiful.
Song Warming cried with streaks of black tears on her cheeks. She understood very well that it took great courage for Geoffrey to embrace happiness again. If it weren't for Fengyluo, if it weren't for this accidental test, he might have spent his whole life hiding in that heavy shell, guarding his long-rotten wounds.
Song Warming clapped her hands, cheeks still marked with black tears. Song Rui looked at her, as if looking at a fool.
Once Fengyluo entered a certain occasion, he would automatically take control. His cold voice echoed through the test area, interrupting those still immersed in the moment: "Alright, who is the next test subject?"
Song Warming's applauding expression suddenly froze, and after a long pause, she put down her hands, combed her hair, and pretended to say naturally, "The next test subject please stand up."
Yaya quickly stood up, her eyes brighter than searchlights. She wasn't afraid of being analyzed, but instead couldn't wait to have a soul-to-soul conversation with Fengyluo. Nobody noticed that Yu Yuntian sitting next to her was constantly fiddling with his cufflinks, a habit of his to relieve tension.