Obsessive Young Master Wei: My Beloved Loses Control Every Night

The car restarted and headed towards her home.

That night, a rumor began to circulate in Yan Tong's circle: Wei, the general manager of Abyss Technology, was driving dangerously on the elevated road due to a relationship dispute, almost causing an accident, and was eventually sent to the hospital.

The news spread quickly, and more and more versions emerged.

Some say he was troubled by love, some say he had an extreme personality, and others say he lost control of his emotions due to setbacks in his career.

But regardless of the version, they all point to the same conclusion: the image of the once mysterious and unpredictable Wei Zixian has completely collapsed.

And the source of all this is a woman named Bian Zhizhi.

Wei Zixian stayed in the hospital for five days.

Lu Fangchi and Wei Yanqiu took turns guarding him.

Wei Zixian was mostly asleep.

Occasionally, when I wake up, I just stare at the ceiling with my eyes open, without speaking or responding, like an empty shell that has lost its soul.

On the afternoon of the fifth day, he was finally able to sit up.

The nurse brought him lunch, and he mechanically picked up the spoon and ate it bite by bite.

He ate very slowly, but swallowed every bite.

Lu Fangchi sat on the sofa next to him, looking at him with mixed feelings.

"Zixian," he asked tentatively, "are you feeling any better?"

Wei Zixian did not answer, but continued to eat the bland porridge.

After finishing his meal, he put down his spoon, picked up his phone from the bedside table, and found the screen was black—it was out of battery.

"Give me a charger," he said, the first thing he'd said in five days.

Lu Fangchi handed him the charger.

Wei Zixian plugged in the power, turned it on, and his fingers paused slightly the moment the screen lit up.

No missed calls, no new messages.

Bian Zhizhi's chat window was still frozen at the last message he sent half a month ago: "It will get colder tomorrow, remember to wear more clothes."

She didn't reply.

Wei Zixian stared at the chat box for a long time, then exited, opened his contacts, found Bian Zhizhi's number, and dialed it.

"The number you dialed is currently busy..."

He hung up and dialed again.

"The number you dialed is currently busy..."

The third time, he understood.

It's not that I'm on a call; I've been blocked.

WeChat, with the same red exclamation mark.

All means of communication have been cut off.

"Give me the computer," he said.

Lu Fangchi handed him the laptop.

Wei Zixian turned on his computer, logged into his email, and sure enough, saw an unread email from Bian Zhizhi, sent two days ago.

The title is concise: Lawyer's Letter.

He clicked on it.

The email body was very brief, and the attachment was a scanned copy of a formal lawyer's letter.

Bian Zhizhi's lawyer issued a statement saying that because Mr. Wei Zixian's behavior has seriously interfered with her normal life and threatened her personal safety, she will sever all non-work-related ties with him effective immediately.

All work-related matters must be handled through the official email address of Little Tree Hole Studio and the project team of See Light Technology. Private contacts will not be responded to.

Any further harassment will be prosecuted in accordance with the law.

The signature at the end was Bian Zhizhi's own handwriting, along with a bright red fingerprint.

Wei Zixian stared at the fingerprint for a long time.

Then he closed the laptop and handed it to Lu Fangchi.

"Help me get discharged," he said.

"You're not done yet..."

I said, "Discharge me from the hospital."

Lu Fangchi sighed, knowing he couldn't persuade him otherwise, so he could only go and complete the formalities.

An hour later, Wei Zixian changed out of his hospital gown and into regular clothes.

He had lost a lot of weight, and his clothes looked somewhat loose.

As I walked out of the hospital, the afternoon sun was a bit too bright.

Wei Zixian raised his hand to block, then said to Lu Fangchi, "Take me to the company."

"You need to rest now..."

"Go to the company," he repeated.

Lu Fangchi had no choice but to comply.

When the employees of Shenyuan Technology's Yantong branch saw Wei Zixian return, they were all startled.

His face was pale, and his eyes were dark, but his aura was still powerful, even a little cold. No one dared to give him a second glance when he passed by.

He walked straight into the office and closed the door.

For the next three days, Wei Zixian locked himself in his office and refused to see anyone.

He came out on the morning of the fourth day.

He gathered all the members of the "Starlight Project" team, including the contact person from the Little Tree Hole, but not Bian Zhizhi herself, but her assistant Xiao Lu.

The meeting was brief.

Wei Zixian announced three things:

First, due to personal reasons, he will no longer be directly involved in the day-to-day management of the project. All matters will be fully handled by the project vice president.

Second, Miguang Technology will unconditionally support all of Xiaoshudong's technical needs, with no budget cap.

Third, effective immediately, he will not appear in any work settings. Any communication, if necessary, will be conducted via email and his assistant.

After making the announcement, he stood up and nodded to Xiaolu: "Give my regards to Teacher Bian. Tell her... I'm sorry for bothering her for so long."

His tone was calm, and his expression was calm, but something in his eyes had been completely extinguished.

Xiao Lu nodded blankly, not yet reacting, before Wei Zixian had already left the meeting room.

That afternoon, something happened that shocked the entire Yantong business district and even alarmed the media.

A verified account posted a long article on the official social media account of "Little Tree Hole Art Healing Studio".

Account Name: Wei Zixian

Verification Information: Founder and CEO of Deep Abyss Technology

The article was handwritten and uploaded as a photo. The handwriting is sharp and powerful, penetrating the paper.

Apology and Guarantee Letter

To Ms. Bian Zhizhi and all sectors of society:

I, Wei Zixian, hereby solemnly apologize for the trouble and harm I have caused to Ms. Bian Zhizhi recently.

My actions seriously crossed the line, causing great distress to Ms. Bian Zhizhi's life and work, and even threatening her personal safety.

This is an unforgivable mistake.

I have reflected deeply and realized that emotions cannot be an excuse to hurt others, and prejudice cannot cover up the nature of mistakes.

Hereby, I solemnly promise:

1. Effective immediately, we will strictly adhere to the working boundaries with Ms. Bian Zhizhi and her studio, and all communication will be conducted solely through formal working channels.

2. We will never interfere with Ms. Bian Zhizhi's personal life in any way again.

3. We will fully support the development of the "Little Tree Hole" studio, but will never use this as an excuse to approach or disturb it.

I accept all criticism and am willing to bear all the consequences.

I once again extend my sincerest apologies to Ms. Bian Zhizhi. I'm sorry.

The comment section exploded immediately after the post was published.

"Holy crap?! Is that really me?!"

"That apology was way too harsh..."

"So all those rumors were true? Wei Zixian really..."

"Although, at least the attitude is sincere."

"Who exactly is Bian Zhizhi? How could she make Wei Zixian bow his head like this?"

"Am I the only one who noticed that this was handwritten and then photographed and uploaded? Who still writes apology letters by hand these days...?"

Public opinion was in uproar.

Some admired Wei Zixian's courage and responsibility, some mocked him for deserving it, and many more were curious about how Bian Zhizhi would respond.

But Bian Zhizhi did not respond.

The Little Tree Hole Studio account remains silent, and Bian Zhizhi's personal social media platforms are also quiet.

She acted as if she hadn't seen anything, as if nothing had happened.

And Wei Zixian truly began to fulfill his promise.