"Eat," Quanxi says, her voice neutral, without any fixed tone of emotion, as she held the lunch from that afternoon. Inside your room, you were turning your back on her, lying on your bed. "You have to eat."

Bipolar disorder, that's your diagnosis. Quanxi knows how hard it is for you, constantly having mental breakdowns was exhausting, now, you didn't seem in the best mood. But still, she had to help you stay stable during the day, she's your psychiatrist after all, inside that mental hospital.