Psychiatry: My Patient Says He Is a Stone

I am the attending psychiatrist at the Municipal Mental Health Center. There is a patient on the sixth floor who has lived there for three years without saying a word. His main complaint was only one sentence: "I am not a human being, I am a stone." Everyone thought he was crazy. Until that rainy night, he suddenly spoke and called me "little Taoist priest". He handed me a jade plaque and said, "You have thrown it away, have you forgotten it?" Then he died in my arms. That night, the pothos that had been dead for three years sprouted. I received a text message from an unknown person: "Well done." Later I found out that he was not crazy. What's crazy is the bit of common sense I cling to.