Obsessive Young Master Wei: My Beloved Loses Control Every Night

Su Wan came to see it and her eyes lit up: "Wow, Zhizhi, this place has a really nice feel to it. What are you planning to name it?"

Bian Zhizhi watched the sunlight stream through the glass door onto the carpet, and thought for a moment: "Let's call it Little Tree Hole."

"Small tree hole?"

"Yes. Children can talk, draw, and play in the sandbox here, hiding their secrets in this 'tree hole'," she said softly. "Everyone needs a 'tree hole' in their heart."

Su Wan looked at her for a long time, then reached out and hugged her: "Zhizhi, you're even better than before."

Bian Zhizhi was taken aback for a moment, then hugged her friend back: "Really?"

"Yes. You're...stronger." Su Wan released her, tears welling in her eyes. "It's not a forced strength, it's a genuine power that grows from within. I'm so happy."

Bian Zhizhi smiled but didn't say anything.

She understood what Su Wan meant.

In this past month, she experienced the anxiety of her father's surgery, adapting to her new job, the shadow of the Wei family's investigation, and countless nights she was awakened by memories.

But she is also gradually pulling herself out of the mire of the past.

She still thinks of Wei Zixian occasionally.

But she began to understand that some relationships are destined to fail to grow healthily from the very beginning.

They met at the wrong time, each carrying their own unhealed wounds.

Getting too close will only cause the wounds to collide, making them bleed even more.

Leaving is not about escaping; it's about saving yourself and letting the other person go.

The process was just too painful.

The day the little tree hole was renovated, Bian Zhizhi stayed in the shop alone until very late.

She sat on the carpet, looking at the empty bookshelves, imagining that this place would one day be filled with children and laughter.

My phone rang. It was my mother, asking when I was coming home for dinner.

"I'll be right back." She hung up the phone and prepared to turn off the lights and leave.

She locked the door and stepped into the gentle night of Yantong City.

Behind me, the sign for the Little Tree Hole shone with a warm yellow light under the streetlights.

Ahead, in the direction of home, there are lights, and there is food and loved ones waiting for her.

The wind was gentle, blowing her long hair.

She looked up at the night sky; there were no stars, but it was very clear.

*

When Lu Fangchi pushed open the ward door, Wei Zixian was lying on the bed by the window, with five or six tubes connected to his body, and the green light on the electrocardiogram monitor was jumping regularly.

The curtains were half-drawn, and a few rays of afternoon sunlight shone through, falling on his face.

The nutrient solution on the bedside table had gone completely cold, and an uncomfortable film had formed on its surface.

Lu Fangchi stood at the door for a moment before stepping inside.

Over the past month, Wei Zixian's reactions to the outside world have become increasingly weak, which doctors say is a sign of severe bodily dysfunction.

Dehydration, electrolyte imbalance, and a complete psychological surrender.

It was as if he was deliberately extinguishing himself little by little.

"Zixian," Lu Fangchi said.

no respond.

The person on the bed didn't even flinch, as if they had already blended into the white space.

Lu Fangchi pulled up a chair and sat down, his gaze sweeping over Wei Zixian's frighteningly sunken cheeks and jagged wrist bones.

Anyone who saw this would gasp in horror.

The once handsome and aloof young master of the Wei family is now just a skeleton barely holding on, exuding a fragile beauty.

"We've found a clue." Lu Fangchi got straight to the point; he didn't need to mince words. He knew Wei Zixian was awake.

Over the past three months, Wei Zixian has had very little actual sleep. Most of the time, he simply keeps his eyes closed, letting his consciousness drift between wakefulness and confusion, as if guarding the last bit of something that refuses to dissipate.

Sure enough, Wei Zixian's eyelids twitched.

Lu Fangchi immediately pulled out a few sheets of paper from the file bag, the top of which was a screenshot of the business registration information printed out.

"Our people used some methods to find this information from a third-party enterprise information platform."

He moved the paper closer to Wei Zixian.

"In Yantong City, a newly registered small studio is called Little Tree Hole."

The registered capital is low, and the legal representative is a pseudonym, "Lin Jian," which is clearly an alias.

"This is the key point."

Lu Fangchi pulled out a second sheet of paper, which contained a complex chart of number associations.

"The emergency contact and backup number left during registration, after cross-referencing and tracing the relationship network, ultimately pointed to one person."

A personal assistant under Su Wan.

This assistant specifically helps Su Wan handle some private matters that she cannot disclose.

Lu Fangchi paused, observing Wei Zixian's reaction.

The person on the bed remained silent, but the rise and fall of their chest seemed slightly more noticeable.

"If that's all there is to it, it might just be a coincidence."

Lu Fangchi pulled out the third piece of paper, which was a somewhat blurry photo that looked like it had been taken from a video.

"This window in the photo," he said, pointing to the upper right corner of the printout.

"Our people did a street view comparison of the street outside, the building outlines across the street, and that blue bus stop sign."

There aren't many areas in Yantong City that match this landscape characteristic. One of them is within a two-kilometer radius of Mingde Hospital, the private hospital in which the Su family has a stake.

Lu Fangchi raised his eyes and his gaze fell on Wei Zixian's face.

"That hospital, Zixian. Your sister checked the records of all the top-tier hospitals in the country, but found nothing."

However, if Bian Zhizhi's father did not have the surgery in a public hospital, but in a private hospital, and arranged it through a pseudonym or special channels, then it would make sense.

The Su family has the capability.

He leaned down and held one of the photos up to Wei Zixian's face.

"Look, this window. The old camphor tree outside the window, the shape of its crown, and the style of the roof of the red brick building across the street."

Our people in Yantong have verified this on-site; this viewpoint could only come from a few buildings in the upscale residential area northeast of the hospital.

Wei Zixian finally opened his eyes.

In those eyes that had been silent for months, it was as if a drowning person had finally seen a piece of driftwood.

He struggled, using all the strength he had left to try to lift the hand with the IV needle inserted. The veins on the back of his hand bulged, and blood was faintly seeping back from the needle.

"Don't move!" Lu Fangchi immediately stepped forward, carefully avoiding the needle, and grasped his hand.

That hand was so thin it was painful, icy cold, and trembling violently. It felt light and flimsy in my hand, like a withered twig that would crumble at the slightest touch.

"Yantong..." Wei Zixian managed to squeeze out two hoarse, barely audible breaths.

"Yes, Yantong." Lu Fangchi gripped her hand tightly, saying each word clearly.

"Zixian, she was there, or at least, she left a trace there."

Su Wan hid her, but now we have a direction, a very specific location.

Her father needs surgery, so he'll definitely stay near that hospital. The residential area isn't big; we'll check house by house, we're sure to find him.

Wei Zixian stopped speaking.

He just stared intently at Lu Fangchi.

That gaze almost seemed to tear his thin body apart.

His gaze slowly shifted from Lu Fangchi's face to the glass of nutrient solution on the bedside table, which he had been refusing to touch.

He released Lu Fangchi's hand and, with all his might, extended his trembling fingers toward the cup.

Once, twice... fingertips clenched in mid-air, as if grasping at some unseen lifeline.

On the third time, the fingernail of the index finger finally touched the glass.

"I'll do it," Lu Fangchi said, wanting to help him.

Wei Zixian glanced at him, his eyes saying: I'll do it myself.

Lu Fangchi's hand froze in mid-air before he finally withdrew it, his heart clenching with anxiety.

Wei Zixian's hands trembled violently, his fingers opening and closing repeatedly, and he barely managed to grip the cup after several attempts.