Obsessive Young Master Wei: My Beloved Loses Control Every Night

Wei Zixian's gaze lingered on her face for a few seconds before shifting back to the ceramic bowl in front of him.

There were still two-thirds of the steamed egg custard left in the bowl, and the steam was slowly dissipating.

He remained silent for a few seconds.

The chopsticks were still held in his hand, and the small spoon was placed on the side of the bowl.

His gaze was lowered as he looked at the half-bowl of steamed eggs remaining in his bowl.

Lu Fangchi was focused on eating a grilled chicken wing with cartilage attached.

Bian Zhizhi picked up her teacup, took a small sip, her gaze lowered, and her eyelashes cast a tired shadow under her eyes.

Right now.

Wei Zixian put down the small spoon in his right hand, which hit the rim of the bowl with a "ding".

He extended his left hand, not his right.

Long, slender fingers with distinct knuckles.

He gently pushed the bottom edge of the ceramic bowl in front of him with the pad of his index finger.

He slowly pushed the steamed egg custard to the center of the table.

Keep pushing.

Towards the direction of the side branches.

The earthenware bowl was moved across the table, causing the steamed egg inside to tremble slightly, while the shrimp and ginkgo nuts on the surface swayed gently.

Finally, it stopped at the edge of the table near Bian Zhizhi, just a hand's breadth away from her own bowl of chawanmushi.

He withdrew his hand, his fingers curling back, and placed them on his lap.

He picked up his small spoon again, lowered his head, scooped up the remaining steamed egg custard in the bowl, put it in his mouth, and chewed quietly.

It was as if nothing had happened.

It was as if the bowl was meant to be there.

Bian Zhizhi was drinking tea, the warm, slightly bitter liquid sliding down her throat, bringing a bit of relief.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move.

It wasn't a change of light and shadow; it was a real object that had encroached on the edge of her field of vision.

She put down her teacup and looked down.

A black pottery bowl.

It's not hers.

Her bowl was still there, but the surface was no longer hot.

This bowl was moved from the opposite side.

She looked up at Wei Zixian.

He was looking down, intently finishing the last bit of steamed egg in his bowl, his profile expressionless under the light.

She then turned to Lu Fangchi.

Lu Fangchi had just spat out a chicken bone when he looked up and met Zhizhi's somewhat bewildered gaze. Following her gaze, he looked at the extra bowl of chawanmushi on the table, then at Wei Zixian, who was engrossed in eating...

His eyes widened instantly, and his mouth opened slightly.

Then, a smile that could only be described as "dazzling" quickly bloomed on her face.

He quickly swallowed the food in his mouth, wiped his mouth with a tissue, gently nudged Bian Zhizhi's arm with his elbow, leaned closer, lowered his voice, and spoke with barely suppressed excitement:

"See! What did I tell you? Our young master is so considerate! He even gives you his favorite food!"

Bian Zhizhi's face turned completely red in an instant.

Blood rushed to my cheeks instantly, and even the tips of my ears felt like they were on fire.

Fortunately, the warm yellow lighting in the private room might be able to conceal some of the problem.

This concern is... way too much.

It shouldn't appear between "therapist" and "patient".

Especially after Wei Yanqiu had just warned her in that cold tone.

What should she do?

reject?

Would you say, "Thank you, young master, but I don't need it. Please eat it yourself?"

Won't that discourage him from expressing his concern in this way, which he had finally mustered up the courage to do?

Will it embarrass him and cause the little bit of warmth and understanding that has just been established to collapse instantly?

accept?

Wouldn't that be tacitly condoning this kind of interaction that crosses boundaries?

Isn't this taking a dangerous step right under Wei Yanqiu's nose?

What if they find out...

Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of her throat.

My palms are sweating and my fingertips are numb.

She could feel Lu Fangchi's amused gaze.

You could also sense Wei Zixian's anticipation and nervousness.

He was waiting for her reaction.

This realization made Bian Zhizhi even more confused and distraught.

Time seemed to thicken in the honey-colored light.

The only sounds in the private room were the faint hum of the light bulbs in the paper lanterns and the distant city lights outside the window.

Lu Fangchi's smile widened.

Wei Zixian hesitated to put the steamed egg custard in his spoon into his mouth.

Bian Zhizhi lowered her eyes and looked at the black pottery bowl that had been pushed over.

She picked up her clean ceramic spoon.

She leaned over and scooped out just enough for one mouthful from the edge of the bowl closest to her.

She put that spoonful of steamed egg into her mouth.

She raised her head, her gaze passing over the rim of the bowl, and looked at Wei Zixian.

He had stopped moving, and although he didn't look up, his whole body was in a listening posture.

"Thank you, young master. It's delicious."

She didn't say anything more.

Just like a regular friend, when someone shares food with you, you naturally express your gratitude.

Then she looked away and continued drinking the half-cold tea in her cup.

Upon hearing her words, Wei Zixian seemed to relax a little.

He finished the rest of the food in his bowl, resuming his previous rhythm.

But the blush at the base of her ears deepened subtly, like a light touch of rouge in the warm yellow light.

Lu Fangchi picked up the sake pot, poured himself a small cup, and drank it down with an undisguised smile in his eyes and brows, as if he had witnessed the most celebratory miracle in the world.

Looking at the two people opposite them, one with their head down trying to hide their embarrassment and the other trying to appear calm, an ambiguous atmosphere lingered around them.

On the way back, Wei Zixian was noticeably more tired.

As soon as he got on the bus, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

My body relaxed, no longer as tense as it had been when I arrived.

His head was tilted to one side of the car window, but as the car turned, inertia caused him to slowly slide to the other side, and finally his forehead gently rested on Bian Zhizhi's shoulder.

He didn't wake up; his breathing became deep and even, and the wisps of hair on his forehead rose and fell slightly with each breath.

He did it.

He watched a movie, ate at an unfamiliar restaurant, met many strangers, and was bombarded by sound and light. He didn't break down; he didn't even feel bad.

She fell asleep very quickly.

Bian Zhizhi sat next to him, looking at his sleeping profile, her shoulders stiff, bearing his weight.

Outside the car window, the light spots from the streetlights swept across the road in a regular pattern.

A beam of light and a beam of darkness alternately illuminated Wei Zixian's sleeping profile.

But her heart continued to sink.

Wei Zixian's performance tonight was a pleasant surprise, and could even be described as a breakthrough.

He is getting better, trying to step out of his self-imposed isolation, and engaging with the world in his own way.

But that is precisely the most dangerous thing.

What Wei Yanqiu wanted was a truly independent younger brother.

Instead of being someone who is led by the nose by her every little thing.

The person who pushed Wei Zixian toward "normal" might become an "unstable factor" in Wei Yanqiu's eyes, someone who needs to be wary of or even eliminated, because she pushed him too "successfully".

Especially when this drive becomes intertwined with more and more unspeakable emotional entanglements.

The steamed egg custard that was pushed towards me tonight, the concern hidden beneath the calm.

It was so real, so real, that it scared her.