Obsessive Young Master Wei: My Beloved Loses Control Every Night

When I got home in the evening, my parents had prepared a sumptuous dinner to celebrate.

Bian Zhizhi had no taste for food, but forced a smile.

The observant Bian Wenbai noticed the weariness that his daughter couldn't hide in her eyes.

After dinner, Bian Zhizhi was washing dishes in the kitchen when Bian Wenbai walked in, took the bowl from her hand, and asked in a low voice.

"Zhizhi, is there some difficulty with the project? You seem quite distracted tonight."

Her father's question almost caused Bian Zhizhi's pretense to crumble.

Her nose stung with tears, and she almost blurted it out.

But the words stuck in his throat.

What should I tell my father?

Is the man who made her run away three years ago back now with an even more irresistible identity?

What can be changed besides causing parents unnecessary worry?

"It's okay, Dad," she forced a smile.

"It's just that the project is too high-level and carries a lot of responsibility, so there's some pressure. But I can handle it."

Bian Wenbai looked at his daughter and knew she wasn't telling the truth, but he didn't press her further. He simply patted her shoulder and said, "Don't put too much pressure on yourself. Your health is the most important thing."

If anything happens, remember that your family will always be your support.

On the other hand, Su Wan also received the project list immediately.

Upon seeing "Abyss Technology" and "Wei Zixian," her pupils constricted, and she immediately dialed Bian Zhizhi's number, her tone urgent.

"Zhizhi, you saw the list? I'll have someone investigate this 'Abyss Technology' right away..."

"Wanwan," Bian Zhizhi interrupted her, her voice weary.

"So what if they find out? The list is finalized, and the contract is about to be signed. This is a national-level project; we have no way out."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone before Su Wan finally spoke.

"He's planned this all out, forcing you to show your face in the most blatant way possible. The signing press conference... you really want to go?"

"I have to go." Bian Zhizhi gripped her phone tightly. "I'm in charge, I can't avoid it."

Even so, after hanging up the phone, Bian Zhizhi still felt a chill to the bone.

In the north, in Sheng'an City, on the top floor of the headquarters of Abyss Technology.

Lu Fangchi sat in the reception area of ​​Wei Zixian's office, looking at the man standing in front of the panoramic floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the city's night view.

In three years, Wei Zixian's frailty, typical of a "patient," had completely disappeared.

He was still thin, but that thinness was the muscle definition hidden beneath his expensive suit, a result of long-term self-discipline and immense pressure.

But his gaze was becoming increasingly unfathomable.

Aside from his almost obsessive fervor when discussing that name and related plans, Wei Zixian is normally calm and rational to an almost inhuman degree.

"Have you made all the arrangements with Yan Tong?" Lu Fangchi asked, fiddling with a metal lighter in his hand.

"Hmm." Wei Zixian didn't turn around and slowly said, "Miguang has perfectly integrated into the local area and has completed the establishment of a network of relationships with the government and related institutions."

This national-level project is a crucial step in our efforts, and also... the most appropriate gift to mark our beginnings.

"A greeting gift..." Lu Fangchi chewed on the word, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Are you sure she'll be happy to receive this 'generous gift'?"

Wei Zixian finally turned around. The dazzling lights outside the window formed a halo behind him, but they couldn't illuminate his expression. "She doesn't need to be happy."

An encrypted file lay open on the table, containing all the information "Little Tree Hole" had gathered over the past three years, so detailed it was frightening.

Lu Fangchi looked at the person in front of him and understood.

The boy who broke down in the hospital ward three years ago has never disappeared; he has simply suppressed all his obsession into this impeccable body.

"She just needs to accept it. Re-enter her life in a way she can't refuse."

This time, there were no threats, no coercion, only cooperation and win-win outcomes.

Lu Fangchi looked at him and sighed inwardly.

"Your sister's side..." Lu Fangchi brought up Wei Yanqiu.

Over the past three years, the relationship between the siblings has reached a freezing point.

Wei Yanqiu's guilt and attempts to make amends received no response from Wei Zixian, only a businesslike distance.

"She only needs to handle the group's internal affairs," Wei Zixian interrupted, his tone completely flat. "Yan Tong's matter has nothing to do with her."

Lu Fangchi said no more.

He knew that Wei Zixian was the absolute master in everything concerning Bian Zhizhi, and no one was allowed to have a say.

"I'll go to the press conference with you," Lu Fangchi said. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Just watch." Wei Zixian looked out the window again. "In this reunion, the main characters are only her and me."

His fingertips traced the edge of the stiff invitation card in the inside pocket of his suit.

He had already read the three words "Bian Zhizhi" on the invitation countless times.

The prey has entered the game; hunter, it's time to make your elegant entrance.

On the eve of the signing ceremony, Bian Zhizhi stared blankly at the off-white suit in her closet.

Su Wan helped her pick out the clothes; they were neatly tailored and in gentle colors—her "battle armor."

She tried to imagine what tomorrow would be like: handshakes, smiles, discussing projects, maintaining distance...

But all imagination crumbled into dust before the three words "Wei Zixian".

She knew all too well the feeling of being locked in by his gaze, like falling into the deep sea, with nowhere to hold on, only to be swept away and sink.

She even began to uncontrollably recall the last moments of three years ago.

A sharp, stabbing pain shot through my heart.

She clutched her chest abruptly, took a deep breath, and forced herself to stop thinking about it.

Meanwhile, in the presidential suite of the tallest hotel in Yantong City.

Wei Zixian stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room, also gazing at the city lights.

His assistant had already been dismissed, and the only sound in the room was his own breathing.

He held a glass of ice water in his hand, feeling the coolness from the glass with his fingertips, trying to calm the unusual restlessness in his chest.

After three years of planning and thousands of days and nights, this moment has finally arrived.

He imagined what she would look like tomorrow.

According to recent photos and videos he obtained, she is thinner than she was three years ago, but looks very healthy.

She must be nervous, and perhaps even scared.

Thinking of the expression she might show, a subtle pain welled up in his heart, but it was quickly overwhelmed by another, more turbulent emotion.

Don't scare her.

At least we can't scare her at the beginning.

So he prepared "Seeking Light," prepared a national-level project, and prepared this progressive approach.

He wanted her to gradually get used to his re-existence, to his "goodness," and to his "indispensability."

As for those thoughts of keeping her completely by my side... I have to suppress them.

We need to suppress it at least for now.

He tilted his head back and drank the water in the glass, the icy coolness sliding down his throat.

"Sister," he said silently, gazing at the night outside the window, "see you tomorrow."

Inside the largest banquet hall of the Yan Hui Art Center, crystal chandeliers shimmered with light, elegant ladies mingled, and media personnel with their cameras and microphones were already in place.

Bian Zhizhi, as the founder and core representative of "Little Tree Hole", sat in the reserved seats in the front row with her team members.

She wore a beige suit, had appropriate light makeup, and her hair was neatly tied up, revealing her graceful neck.

She looked professional, but only she knew that her palms were already soaked with cold sweat.