After Three Years as an Orderly at a Psychiatric Hospital, the Director Tells Me to Get Lost

I spent three years wiping up piss and shit in a psychiatric hospital. I got slapped, had food dumped on me, and was cursed at as “a wretched servant born to care for lunatics.” The director treated me like a dog, right up until the day he forced me out. I called to Old Zhang in Bed 3: “Zhang… bed.” The former senior military commander, who’d been pretending to be insane, stood at attention with his cane and snapped off a salute. “If he leaves, I’ll tear this hospital down.” The director’s legs went weak. He had no idea that the “lunatics” pretending to be crazy in this hospital were big shots: the richest man in the country, a gambling god, a master physician, and the king of intelligence. Some had been hiding for years, others for decades, all waiting to dote on one person. Time for your medicine. And one more thing.