Obsessive Young Master Wei: My Beloved Loses Control Every Night

Bian Zhizhi took the empty cup, turned around and put it back on the small table, then quickly walked back to the long table and sat down again.

My heart was pounding wildly in my chest, as if it were trying to break free of my ribs.

She picked up her cup of tea, which had gone cold, and took a big gulp. The liquid slid down her throat, barely suppressing the surging palpitations.

The following afternoon, the aroma of freshly baked almond cookies filled the entire activity room.

The maid brought the cookies over, but Wei Zixian glanced at them and didn't touch them.

The maid tactfully stepped aside.

Bian Zhizhi was reading a book and pretended not to see it.

Wei Zixian's gaze drifted towards her again.

This time he neither pushed the plate nor stared at it for a long time.

He simply picked up a cookie, held it under his nose, smelled it, and then, with a flick of his wrist, placed it on the edge of the long table.

It was close to the side of Bian Zhizhi, but not completely inside her territory.

Bian Zhizhi stared at the pages of the book, but she could clearly see the action out of the corner of her eye.

Her fingers gripped the pages of the book tightly.

She shouldn't have gone there.

This should not be tolerated.

This absurd rule should not be allowed to continue.

But the maid is still there.

Wei Zixian's gaze, like invisible threads, entwined around her, waiting for her.

He knew Bian Zhizhi would soften her heart.

He didn't laugh, yet it seemed as if he did, his eyes conveying an air of absolute certainty.

The maid must have told Bian Zhizhi that he ate very little today.

If Bian Zhizhi hadn't brought the plate of cookies to him as he wished, Wei Zixian definitely wouldn't have touched them again today.

He was gambling with his own body, betting that Bian Zhizhi would feel sorry for him.

She gritted her teeth, put down her book, stood up, walked to the long table, picked up the cookie he had placed on the edge, and went back to the small round table to put it on the plate in front of him.

"Young master, please have some."

As he expected, Bian Zhizhi couldn't just sit idly by and ignore him.

Wei Zixian picked up the biscuit, lowered his head, and ate it in small bites, his eyes downcast to hide his satisfied expression.

Suddenly seized by a playful impulse, as if to punish Bian Zhizhi for her coldness and estrangement towards him these past few days, he picked up another piece and repeated his previous action, placing it on the edge of the long table.

Bian Zhizhi stood there, watching his actions, and a nameless anger suddenly surged into her heart.

Is he playing around?

Using such a childish method.

But she couldn't get angry.

You must not lose your composure in front of the maid.

She went over again, picked up the cookie, and put it back on his plate.

Then, the third piece.

The fourth piece.

Throughout the afternoon, Wei Zixian ate four cookies in this almost torturous way.

Every piece of food had to pass through Bian Zhizhi's hands.

He didn't speak or urge her, but simply used that repetitive action to silently confront her, forcing her to get up again and again, walk over, and complete that "ritual".

Bian Zhizhi felt like a wind-up toy, mechanically repeating the same actions.

Each time it's repeated, the wall in my heart crumbles a little more.

She hated her own weakness, hated her inability to refuse, hated that she knew it was wrong, yet still succumbed to him.

What disgusted her even more was that when he picked up the fifth cookie and made a move to put it on the edge of the long table, she could no longer bear it.

"That's enough, young master."

This sentence successfully made Wei Zixian stop in his tracks.

He held the cookie, paused in mid-air, turned his gaze to her, and for the first time, a look of surprise appeared in his eyes.

Bian Zhizhi didn't avoid his gaze, but went to meet it and repeated:

"I said, that's enough. If you want to eat, then eat it yourself. If you don't want to eat, then leave it."

After saying that, she stopped looking at him, turned around and walked back to the long table, sat down heavily, and picked up her book again.

But the pages were blurry in front of me, and I couldn't read a single word.

She could feel her hands trembling, and she could feel Wei Zixian's gaze and the maid's gaze both directed at her.

Stalemate.

A prolonged stalemate.

The maid almost held her breath, wishing she could curl up into a ball and disappear from this terrifying standoff.

Then, Wei Zixian made a move.

He put the cookie back in the porcelain dish and turned to signal to the maid that they could be removed.

After the maid left, Wei Zixian propped his head up with his hand, adopting what he considered the most relaxed posture, and tapped his fingertips on the book, each tap conveying a signal of his pleasant mood.

Similar scenarios continued to occur in various variations over the next few days.

Wei Zixian seemed to be using this method to repeatedly confirm and strengthen the special connection between him and Bian Zhizhi.

He only drank the water she offered him.

He only ate the food she put on his plate.

He would only take the medicine when reminded by her.

Even during his family doctor's routine check-ups, he would subconsciously look in Bian Zhizhi's direction, as if her presence was the only way he could relax his tense nerves.

When the doctor needs him to perform a certain action or answer a certain question, if Bian Zhizhi is not in his sight, he will often remain silent until she comes over, stands next to the doctor, and signals to him verbally, at which point he will reluctantly cooperate.

This pattern of "extreme double standards" spread silently throughout the house, quickly becoming an unspoken common knowledge among all the servants.

"It would be best to serve the young master's tea and snacks when Miss Bian is here."

"Remember to remind Miss Bian to give the young master the medicine he needs."

"Ms. Bian must be present during the doctor's examination."

"Never try to get the young master to do anything he doesn't want to do when Miss Bian isn't around, or he might hold a grudge against you for the whole morning."

The servants exchanged glances and whispered about the details they had witnessed or heard about.

"Do you think this means the young master... likes Miss Bian?"

"Who knows? Who can fathom the young master's thoughts?"

"But Miss Bian is indeed quite capable, managing to heal the young master like this."

"What's this talk of treatment? I think the young master can't live without her. Didn't you see the way he looked at Miss Bian..."

"Shh! Keep your voice down! Don't let Butler Li hear you!"

Butler Li, of course, heard it.

Or rather, he could perceive everything from Wei Zixian's increasingly specific actions and the increasingly subtle atmosphere in the house without even hearing it.

He continued to record, observe, and report every day.

The author describes every change in the young master in the most objective language.

During his weekly routine report, he reported these details to Wei Yanqiu in great detail.

Butler Li stood with his hands at his sides in front of the desk, having just finished his report.

A long silence fell over the study.

"The dependence has deepened." She finally spoke, saying this.

The tone was unpredictable.

It was impossible to tell whether it was joy or sorrow, praise or warning.

"Yes," Butler Li replied with his head bowed, then paused and added.

"However, the young master's cooperation in all aspects is much better than before."

The results of this week's family doctor's checkup were also very positive.

"What did the doctor say?" Wei Yanqiu asked.

"The doctor said that the young master's progress is very obvious."

Wei Yanqiu stood up, walked to the window, turned his back to Steward Li, and looked at the few black pines in the courtyard.

"What do you think, Uncle Li?" She didn't turn around.

Is Zixian's dependence on Bian Zhizhi a good thing or a bad thing?