Chapter 1610 Fishing Day (Part 3)

Chapter 1583 Fishing Day (Part 3)

The sky darkened at a speed that ordinary people could hardly imagine. The people sitting on the shore began to pack up. Natasha stomped out the flames with her boots and then buried the fire with soil, leaving only a faint wisp of smoke.

"Did anyone tell you that there might be bears here?" Natasha said casually while kicking away the stones piled next to the fire.

"Did anyone tell the bears that we are here?" Schiller said without turning his head while holding his stool: "Especially, did anyone tell the bears that there are Russians here?"

The red-haired female agent laughed wildly and said breathlessly: "Stop making jokes about such stereotypes. It's not funny at all."

At this time, Ivan and Steve's voices came from the front intermittently: "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 face, quickly caught up with Schiller, patted his shoulder and said: "Russia does not have such an adult ceremony. When I became an adult, I ate cake like Americans."

"And the head of the previous Black Widow was placed next to it, right?" Schiller was not polite at all.

"What kind of people are we in your eyes? Savages who eat raw meat and drink blood?" Natasha raised her eyebrows, and the light of the lakeside cabin shone on her face, making her three-dimensional facial features rise and fall like mountains under the night sky.

"Stereotypes," Schiller commented, sounding professional like a psychiatrist, but then he added, "There are always some Russians who have never killed anything, nor have they killed anything in their dreams after getting drunk, right?"

"There must be some. Go to Moscow and look for them. Maybe you can find some of these wimps."

They followed the lights of the lakeside cottage to the front porch. After opening the door, they found that the fireplace was not yet heated. The house was full of damp cold air. Steve walked around the house and found a few pieces of wood that had been infected by moisture and could not be burned at all in a box in an inconspicuous corner.

"Looks like we have to start with chopping wood." Steve strode into the house with an axe in his hand, and said in a bluffing tone: "'Where's the bear? Where's the bear?' - Do I look like a Russian?"

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

"Dr. Vanke, stop scaring these Americans." Natasha sat on the sofa and raised her delicate chin and said, "Lest our Captain America, who is always known for his bravery, must find a bear here to chop for you to see."

"Your estimate is completely wrong." Schiller continued her words, but also teased Steve: "Our Steve is not Tony Stark. He doesn't have that kind of inappropriate competitive spirit. If you provoke him again, he will only vent his anger on the firewood."

And the good-tempered Steve just smiled and shook his head with his axe in his hand. Nick's heavy footsteps sounded from behind him. He poked his head into the house and said, " What's going on? Why don't we have an axe?"

With a "whoosh", the window behind the sofa opened, and pieces of freshly chopped firewood flew in. Eric didn't even move his fingertips. He leaned on the sofa as if he was sleepy, and said in that unpleasant tone: "You seem to be really playing a game of 'pretending that we don't have superpowers'."

"Oh, please!" Natasha spread her hands speechlessly and said, "I thought there were any special difficulties besides wood, or you wanted to embarrass Captain America. How could anyone really want to chop wood?"

Nick immediately slid quickly to the chair closest to the fireplace, wrapped his jacket tightly and said, "Thank God, thank you for superpowers, it's no fun to play an ordinary person, who will make the fire burn a little more?"

Steve also walked into the house. He squatted beside the fireplace and lit some twigs and stuffed them in. Soon the flames rose, and the warmth made people drowsy. In the drowsy sleep, some more aimless chats were carried out.

"I don't know why you two don't plan to start a family again." Nick wiped his boots and looked up at Charles and Eric, and said, "Eric makes sense, he already has children, so what about you, Charles?"

"Do you think children and family can replace each other?" Charles asked again in a tone full of academic vocabulary.

"Usually, this means that an attempt to start a family has failed."

"But it's not a complete failure, or if it's forced by external forces or limited by the times, there's no need to be pessimistic about it." Charles finished speaking and glanced at Eric next to him.

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

"Do you want to ask if love and family are necessarily related?" Schiller was looking for possible tea sets in the kitchen of the cabin at this time, and said, "Or, do you want to know if love and family are necessarily related, including your love object and children."

"I think love is only related to a sense of responsibility, and family is a manifestation of a sense of responsibility. When love is deep, it is inevitable that one will want to be responsible for the other person urgently, and then one will start a family." Schiller answered.

"If you don't start a family, does it mean that you lack a sense of responsibility? Does it mean that you have never fallen in love with someone?" Natasha asked with a frown.

"This offends too many people, including me." Schiller took out a small bag of tea from the cupboard, opened it and checked it, and said, "There is another step between the idea of ​​being responsible and starting a family, that is, reality. If there are no realistic conditions, the idea is just an idea."

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 others, he was like a cat, who might have heard it but didn't care at all.

"So, doctor, is it because of reality that you don't start a family?"

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

"First of all, I'm an autistic person, don't expect too much from my emotional ability." Schiller plugged in the kettle and said, "If the happiness and anger in daily life are the bottom of the pyramid, then the wholehearted love for a person is the top of the pyramid. Any mentally ill person who lacks sympathy and empathy tells you that he is truly in love with someone, just listen to it."

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

Steve pushed his lower lip up until it lifted his upper lip, which looked like approval, but also like expressing dissatisfaction.

Schiller came over with a tray of hot tea and placed the cups in front of them one by one, then said: "Of course, this is only part of the reason. Generally speaking, the desires and hormone secretions of autistic people are normal, so they will not have functional disorders."

Hearing such topics, Natasha immediately raised her eyebrows with interest. She picked up the cup of hot tea, leaned forward, put her elbows together and pressed them on her knees and said:

"In fact, I have pursued several professors or doctors. The biggest reason I am interested in them is that they are inadvertently aggressive under their gentle and polite appearance. The process of chasing them is like hunting the beast under the human skin - I love hunting."

Now, it was Eric's turn to glance 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 celibates is similar to the excitement of breaking taboos. Some people deliberately hide their lustful side to attract those who are interested in tasting forbidden fruit."

"Is that you, doctor?"

"There is another possibility." Schiller didn't care about Natasha's slightly aggressive look, just looked at her and said, "Avoiding emotional life as much as possible is a last resort."

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

Natasha leaned forward, even occupying only the front third of the sofa. She held the cup in both hands, looked at Schiller from under her red hair and said, "So, what could force a healthy man to do this?"

Schiller sighed deeply, and gently touched the side of the cup with his fingers and said, "Human desires always grow with age, and the pathology of mental patients also grows with age. When the growth period overlaps too much, desires will be easily infected by the pathology, resulting in some deviations outside the ideal range..."

"It's like this again." Natasha shook her head and said, "The scholars I pursued at this time were half as professional and boring as you. I gave up long ago, doctor."

But at this time, Ivan next to him said thoughtfully, "In fact, I seem to have really encountered this situation. I have seen someone I don't know how violence and sexual desire are linked together, but the consequences 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..."

Ivan didn't seem to say the word related to sex because of conservativeness, but just felt confused, incomprehensible and a little scared. He shook his head gently and said: "When the police took him away, he was trembling with excitement, and kept saying that he gave her the most "noble" love."

Steve shuddered, not because of murder, but because he couldn't understand the perverted thinking in it. He drank a sip of tea to calm down, and then said: "Love her and kill her, do such people really exist?"

Suddenly, he realized that Schiller shifted the topic here to defend himself.

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

Just as Steve was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he heard Schiller continue in that calm tone: "I won't be taken away by the police."

This is a daily unit

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