Obsessive Young Master Wei: My Beloved Loses Control Every Night

"How's your hand?" Bian Zhizhi changed the subject, her gaze falling on his left arm.

The bandages have been removed, but you can still see faint scars under the sleeves.

"Almost there." Wei Zixian flexed his wrist. "The doctor said the recovery is going well."

Bian Zhizhi recalled that stormy night when he carried her as they ran through the mud, his arm covered in wounds.

She remembered how he shielded her from the rain with his body against the cliff, his blood mingling with the rainwater as it flowed down.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly.

Wei Zixian was stunned: "What?"

"That day, at the hospital entrance," Bian Zhizhi's fingers unconsciously traced the rim of the bowl, "I... I didn't mean to ignore you. I just..."

She couldn't continue.

Wei Zixian didn't expect her to bring up this matter on her own initiative, and she certainly didn't expect her to apologize.

"You don't need to apologize," he blurted out, his voice tinged with urgency, yet the sincerity in his tone was just right, warming the heart of the listener.

"I'm the one who should apologize. I did too many wrong things in the past, which scared you. You should treat me like this now."

"It's not my duty," Bian Zhizhi shook her head, her voice even lower. "You saved me. I should at least... say thank you."

The two stared at each other, and the air in the private room seemed to freeze for a moment.

Wei Zixian saw that her eyes were slightly red, and that bit of moisture was like a tiny hook, gently tugging at the softest part of his heart.

The feeling of triumph and sourness lingered, gradually permeating every part of my body.

She felt guilty for him; she felt sorry for him.

His hand, which was under the table, curled its knuckles slightly on his knee. Then, his left arm, which had been resting on his lap, seemed to have been distracted by the conversation, and he moved it unintentionally, which in turn affected his shoulder.

The movement caused the fabric of his shirt to brush against the wound, which was not yet fully healed. He took a short breath, his brow furrowing slightly before relaxing.

"Your hand..." Bian Zhizhi's attention was indeed drawn to it, her gaze falling on his left shoulder. The previous hint of hesitation and dampness was replaced by concern. "Is it still not fully healed? Don't move too much."

"It's alright." Wei Zixian lowered his eyes to avoid her gaze, his tone relaxed and somewhat reassuring.

"It's healed so quickly. It's just that sometimes... it's a little clumsy."

Compared to the straightforward words "pain" or "discomfort," the word "flexible" is obviously much milder.

But it was precisely this nonchalant wording that made his underlying forbearance impossible to hide.

He picked up the teapot to refill her water, his movements a beat slower than usual, yet still steady and composed, with a hint of deliberate caution.

Hot water was poured into the cup, and wisps of white steam rose between them.

He took advantage of the moisture to quietly conceal the fleeting glimmer of triumph in his eyes.

Don't rush.

I can't scare her anymore.

"The food's getting cold." He put down the teapot and picked up a shrimp with his chopsticks. "Try this, it's very fresh."

Bian Zhizhi lowered her head and ate her food, without saying anything more.

The atmosphere eased considerably during the rest of the meal.

Wei Zixian shared some interesting anecdotes from his work.

Of course, it was carefully selected, omitting all the scheming and intrigue, leaving only some harmless little episodes.

Bian Zhizhi also talked about the recent situation of the Little Tree Hole, the children's new works, and the project that the studio is preparing to cooperate with the school.

They were like two long-lost friends, cautiously probing the boundaries to avoid stepping into a minefield.

We finished dinner at 8:30 pm.

Wei Zixian called a car, but the driver was late in arriving.

He stood at the restaurant entrance making three phone calls, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper.

"What happened?" Bian Zhizhi asked.

"The driver said he had a flare-up of gastroenteritis, and that it was quite far from my place; it would take another driver at least half an hour to get here."

Wei Zixian's voice was filled with anxiety as he tapped his phone screen faster and faster.

Bian Zhizhi noticed his subtle movements, which were a sign that he was about to lose control of his emotions.

"It's okay, just wait a bit," she said softly, trying to be as gentle as possible.

Wei Zixian took a deep breath and forced himself to stop tapping.

He turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I was a little... anxious."

"It's nothing." Bian Zhizhi paused, then suddenly remembered something. "Your arm injury...is it not fully healed yet? Should we go back to the restaurant to rest?"

"No need," Wei Zixian said immediately, then realized she had overreacted and softened her tone, "I'm fine. It's just... I felt bad making you wait so long."

I should have anticipated this situation. I should have sent you back, but I messed up again...

Bian Zhizhi looked at him.

At this moment, Wei Zixian was like a large dog that knew it had made a mistake, anxious and restless but trying hard to restrain itself, afraid of offending people, yet unable to hide its helplessness.

This association struck her as odd; her mind was trying to deny it, yet her heart firmly held onto the belief.

Then she said something that even surprised herself.

"How about..." she hesitated, "we take a walk? It's not far anyway."

She regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth. She was the one who pushed the person away, and now she was the one extending the invitation.

Bian Zhizhi's eyes began to dart away at the end of her sentence. Wei Zixian's eyes lit up for a moment, but quickly dimmed when he saw Bian Zhizhi's reaction: "Wouldn't that be too much trouble for you?"

"No." Bian Zhizhi noticed his unusual behavior, and her body and words reacted before her reason. She smiled and said, "Just think of it as a post-meal digestion."

As she spoke, she patted her stomach, a very childlike gesture.

She only realized her mistake after she finished, blushing and feeling somewhat embarrassed.

Looking at her, Wei Zixian suddenly imitated her and patted his own belly.

His movements were somewhat clumsy, which, combined with his shiny clothes, gave him an absurdly cute appearance.

Bian Zhizhi couldn't help but burst out laughing.

That was the first time in three years that Wei Zixian had seen her smile like that, especially since she was smiling at him.

Afraid that she would feel embarrassed if she laughed again, she turned around and walked ahead first.

"Let's go for a walk."

As Wei Zixian watched her hurried figure disappear, a slight smile crept onto his lips.

The plan has succeeded in its first step.

The two strolled slowly along the shopping street.

The streets were bustling at night; couples walked hand in hand, children ran around pulling balloons, and street performers played guitars and sang.

Bian Zhizhi walked slowly, so Wei Zixian slowed down to match her pace.

They chatted about trivial topics: recently released movies, a newly opened bookstore, and the aftermath of the Suzhou Forum.

It's very ordinary, very mundane.

But Bian Zhizhi found that she didn't find it boring.

I even enjoyed it a little.

When they reached a crossroads, Wei Zixian suddenly stopped.

His gaze was fixed on the other side of the road.

Bian Zhizhi followed his gaze.