Obsessive Young Master Wei: My Beloved Loses Control Every Night

Lu Fangchi received the call from Butler Li at 11 p.m.

The voice on the other end of the phone was extremely anxious: "Mr. Lu, could you come over? Young Master... his condition isn't good."

Lu Fangchi grabbed his car keys and rushed out the door.

Twenty minutes later, he pushed open the door to Wei Zixian's bedroom and the scene he saw made his heart sink.

Wei Zixian was curled up on the bed, his clothes still soaked and wet, his hair plastered to his forehead.

"Zixian?" Lu Fangchi approached and squatted down.

Wei Zixian did not react.

Lu Fangchi reached out to touch his shoulder, but as soon as his fingertips touched the damp, cold fabric, Wei Zixian suddenly looked up.

His eyes were bloodshot, and it was hard to tell whether it was rain or something else that had soaked his eyelashes. His face was frighteningly pale, but his lips were unusually red.

Lu Fangchi reached out to touch his forehead; it was alarmingly hot.

"You have a fever." Lu Fangchi frowned. "Butler Li, call a doctor!"

"No need," Wei Zixian's voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible. "I won't die."

"Wei Zixian!" Lu Fangchi exploded, "Can you stop fucking degrading yourself like this?! For a woman, you..."

"She got into Chang Xiting's car," Wei Zixian said slowly. "In front of me, she chose Chang Xiting."

Lu Fangchi's words stuck in his throat.

"I stood in the rain waiting for her to turn around," Wei Zixian continued, staring blankly out the window. "But she didn't look at me even once. Not even once."

He suddenly laughed, his laughter low and hoarse: "Fang Chi, tell me, what else do I need to do?"

I bought the apartment next to hers and created opportunities to bump into her every day. I even calculated the time she left the house like a psychopath...

I thought that as long as I made my presence felt strong enough, she would get used to it and accept me again.

"But I forgot," his smile turned bitter, "what she fears most is my very existence."

Lu Fangchi opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he only sighed heavily.

"Change your clothes first, the doctor will be here soon." He softened his tone. "We can talk about it after the fever goes down."

Wei Zixian did not move.

When the doctor arrived, Wei Zixian had already fallen into a deep sleep.

High fever of 39 degrees Celsius, severe sleep deprivation, and intense mood swings.

The doctor shook his head as he administered the IV drip: "If this continues, even an iron body can't withstand it."

Lu Fangchi stood by the bed, looking at Wei Zixian's furrowed brows even in his unconscious state, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

His phone vibrated, so he went to the balcony to answer it.

"How is it?" It was Wei Yanqiu's voice.

"High fever," Lu Fangchi said briefly. "He just had a fever-reducing injection and is asleep."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

"Is it because of Bian Zhizhi?" Wei Yanqiu asked, his voice weary.

"Who else could it be because of?" Lu Fangchi rubbed his temples. "Sister Yanqiu, this can't go on. Zixian... he'll ruin himself."

"I know," Wei Yanqiu sighed, "but what can I do?"

Tie him up and lock him up at home? I tried that three years ago, and you and I both know how it turned out.

She paused for a moment, then said, "Perhaps... we should let Bian Zhizhi know."

"Know what?"

"Knowing what Zixian has sacrificed for her is not about moral blackmail, but simply... at least let her understand that she is facing someone who would truly die for her."

Lu Fangchi gripped his phone tightly. He didn't know what to do. Would it be too cruel to make someone who shouldn't have to bear this burden take the blame for Bian Zhizhi?

Outside the window, the sky was beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn.

A new day is about to begin, but for some people, the night seems to have no end.

Wei Zixian's high fever lasted for three days, fluctuating on and off.

For the past three days, Bian Zhizhi's life seemed to have returned to normal.

Chang Xiting would pick her up and drop her off at get off work every day, and even after the car was repaired, he would still "stop by" to check on it.

In contrast, Wei Zixian completely disappeared from her life.

The lights in the house next door have been off all the time; the chance encounters during morning runs are gone, and so are the chance meetings at the supermarket.

He was like a ghost that abruptly entered her life and then quietly disappeared.

But Bian Zhizhi did not feel relieved as a result.

On the contrary, a deeper anxiety spread through her heart; she knew Wei Zixian all too well.

Such a sudden disappearance often means that a more intense storm is brewing.

On Friday afternoon, Chang Xiting invited her to see a contemporary art exhibition.

"The exhibition hall is in the new district, not far from your studio." His voice carried a slight static tone from the phone, making it hard to resist listening to what he was about to say.

"I heard there are a few interactive installations that would be great inspiration for the Little Tree Hole project. After the exhibition, we can have dinner together and discuss the final plan for the community arts festival."

Bian Zhizhi agreed.

The art exhibition was indeed excellent; several pieces gave her new inspiration.

She and Chang Xiting looked at the exhibits and discussed them, and time flew by.

It was already past 7 p.m. when I came out of the exhibition hall.

"What do you want to eat?" Chang Xiting asked. "I know a good private restaurant nearby that makes particularly delicious soup."

"Okay." Bian Zhizhi smiled. "I'm actually a little hungry."

It was already dark when they got on the bus.

Chang Xiting started the car and slowly drove out of the parking lot.

Bian Zhizhi leaned against the passenger seat, watching the neon lights gradually light up outside the window, and that unease in her heart resurfaced.

"What's wrong?" Chang Xiting noticed her silence. "Are you tired?"

"No," Bian Zhizhi shook her head. "It's just that it's been too quiet these past few days."

Chang Xiting immediately understood what she meant. Coincidentally, a friend of hers worked at the hospital, so Chang Xiting told Bian Zhizhi about her situation.

"I've been asking around about Wei Zixian these past few days," he said, carefully choosing his words. "I heard he's sick, has a high fever, and has been in the hospital for a few days."

Is it serious?

"It shouldn't be serious; she's already been discharged." Chang Xiting glanced at her. "Zhizhi, if you're worried..."

"I'm not worried."

Even so, her gaze involuntarily drifted to the window.

The car drove onto the ring road, and the traffic gradually thinned out.

Changxi Pavilion turned on the music; it was a soothing piano piece.

"By the way, there's a national art therapy forum in Suzhou on the 20th of this month," Chang Xiting said.

"I've secured two guest spots. Are you interested in coming with me? I can share my experiences with the 'Little Confessional' platform and meet many peers."

Just as Bian Zhizhi was about to answer, she suddenly caught a glimpse of a blinding high beam in the rearview mirror.

The lights were too bright, too fast, and were approaching from behind at an alarming speed.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Chang Xiting noticed it too. He frowned, changed lanes to the right, and tried to let the car behind him pass.

But the other car changed lanes and followed closely behind them, getting closer and closer.

"How can this person drive like that..." Before Chang Xiting could finish speaking, the car suddenly accelerated and overtook him from the left.

A silver-gray sports car.

Bian Zhizhi's breathing stopped instantly.