Chapter 1452: Chapter 1424 Society: I, Qian, am Incredibly Awesome

Psychodrama belongs to a form of group psychological therapy, which is fundamentally different from the conversational psychological therapy that Kiara often employs. In conversational therapy, the psychologist controls the pace and techniques, whereas in psychodrama, the focus is not on conversation but on dramatizing the patients’ issues by having them act out scenarios. Simply put, patients or psychologists can be the actors who, throughout the performance, aim to vent emotions and eliminate psychological problems. The competition uses this as the final round because it is more intuitive and entertaining.

The four contestants entering the final can each bring a helping hand, and the actors are provided by the competition. Each group has only 15 minutes to perform, and there’s a deduction for exceeding this time limit. Why bring a helper? Well, psychodrama is very different from stage drama, which emphasizes spectacle. Apart from requiring a director who can get all the patients into character by controlling the pacing, there’s also a need for a narrator.

Kiara’s choice of Aka to be the narrator is a risky move.

Aka’s professional standard is below average, and having a narrator means needing extensive technical terminology and analysis for the crucial touches. Even if the patients and director Kiara put on a good show, if the narrator makes an error, the entire production falls apart.

Before the competition starts, each group has 2 hours to prepare, which seems ample but is quite the contrary. The actors picked by the competition all have actual psychological issues, meaning they are real patients. Contestants have 2 hours to understand each patient’s condition, write down their psychological issues, and then craft a psychodrama script tailored to each person’s unique traits.

The scoring is comprised of three parts: First, it’s about how accurately contestants can judge their patients’ conditions–you can’t assign roles based on depression if someone has anxiety. Second, the effect of the psychodrama is evaluated, which means assessing how effective the contestants’ directed psychodramas are in terms of therapeutic outcomes. It’s crucial to see how many among the five drawn patients will have emotional changes because of the psychodrama. Finally, the script’s universal values are judged from an entertainment perspective. If the treatment is effective but dull to watch, points get deducted.

Combined with the performance, it totals 2 hours and 15 minutes. Completing such complex work in such a short time is entirely impossible without help. A good helper can relieve half of the contestant’s stress–for instance, at Akatenango’s end.

Akatenango calls herself a helper, but she actually dominates the process. It’s less JR’s contest and more Akatenango’s own. During the diagnosis phase, she diagnosed three out of five patients by herself, leaving the remaining two to the actual contestants. This saved plenty of time, and then she helped the newcomer write the treatment script. With time to spare for rehearsal, the likelihood of mistakes during the official contest is low, ensuring all three scoring points are covered.

Kiara, on the other hand, is less fortunate.

There’s no way Aka could assist her with diagnoses–he’s clueless.

So Aka watched helplessly as Mrs. Kiara grappled with the five patients alone. Conversations between psychologists and patients are not as straightforward as with physical doctors. A physical discomfort leads to a visit to the doctor who does some tests and listens to the patient’s symptoms to make a diagnostic. For psychological disorders, most are undetectable by instruments, and even with tests and questionnaires to aid judgment, patient cooperation is a significant issue.

Many patients inherently resist seeing psychologists and are uncooperative, making treatment less effective–like one of the ones Kiara encountered.

The first two were willing to cooperate with Kiara in describing their conditions, but the third was stubbornly silent, alternating between muttering, crying, and silence. Kiara spent the most time on her, and Aka nervously checked his watch–it was already close to 40 minutes.

Forty minutes!

At the Akatenango side, they had already finished diagnosing all the patients and had begun scriptwriting!

All contestants were rehearsing in their designated areas. Aka couldn’t see the others, but he could imagine–every year in such competitions, JR is always the quickest to finish. This is inseparable from their use of experts as junior leaders. Because of Aka’s lag, Mrs. Kiara is still not done diagnosing after 40 minutes…

Aka watches as Mrs. Kiara calmly grinded with the third patient, pacing back and forth with nothing better to do.

Zoel Cohen watched the large screen in the spectator area and saw Aka pacing back and forth. He was getting anxious too. How capable is Emma Clark, really? He could see all four contestants’ situations–the screen split into four, showing the Nanguo Team already writing their script!

“Emma Clark won’t have any issues, right?” Zoel asked Eldest Brother, turning to see him lying motionless on the table. Zoel grew a bit worried–was this from being too scared to watch?

Seeing Eldest Brother unresponsive, Zoel repeated the question. Eldest Brother then lifted his head, wiping his mouth, “I have confidence in our Junior Leader.”

Zoel sniffed a hint of cream, his eyes going to Eldest Brother’s lips, which were still flecked with white. Mr. Zoel squinted.

“The house is on fire, and you’re still eating?!”

Turns out Eldest Brother wasn’t cowed by the situation–he was sneaking a snack!

Caught, Eldest Brother signaled Zoel to be quiet, “Keep it down. If the media spots me here at the competition, they’ll take photos. Imagine if they snap a shot of me eating while my sister competes–that Old Man would kill me when I get back.”

“…” So that’s your reason for lying low?

Zoel suddenly felt much less confident in the so-called Farmstead. Despite the impressive reputation it held on the outside, it seemed like no one inside took anything seriously. The name itself didn’t sound like a serious therapeutic institution, and those within seemed like a bunch of oddballs.

Eldest Brother wiped his mouth elegantly, “Don’t worry. If she can’t handle even this, she doesn’t deserve to be called our Junior Leader.”

As if in response to Eldest Brother’s words, a change finally occurred on Kiara’s screen.

“Aka!” Kiara waved Aka over. Aka almost sprinted over, so excited that he stumbled and face-planted. Zoel, with sharp ears, caught the sounds of laughter from either a family group or media nearby. Mr. Zoel’s eyes narrowed. Good, laughing at my woman–I got you! Meet me by the restroom doors after the meeting!

“Mrs. Kiara, what do you need me to do?” Aka stood up and ran to Kiara.

Kiara nodded, quickly wrote something down on a piece of paper, and handed it to Aka.

“Here’s the first part of the narration for you to memorize.”

Aka’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced at the silent female patient in front of Mrs. Kiara. What’s going on, did she already have the script after seeing only the third patient?

Looking down at what Mrs. Kiara wrote, Aka felt like genuflecting to her–you’ve outdone yourself, Kiara! What faith you have in Aka!