Obsessive Young Master Wei: My Beloved Loses Control Every Night

He slowly brought the cup closer to himself, the liquid inside swirling violently, spilling some and wetting his blue and white striped hospital gown and sheets.

But he ignored it.

Hold the cup with both hands, bring the rim to your lips, and tilt your head back.

When he swallowed the first bite, his body visibly convulsed violently, and his stomach experienced a strong rejection reaction.

But he gritted his teeth, the veins on his neck bulging, and didn't vomit. He just paused for two seconds, waiting for the nausea to subside slightly, and then continued.

Swallowing it in large gulps.

The glass of nutrient solution was quickly emptied.

The ward door was suddenly pushed open, and Wei Yanqiu and the nurse rushed in upon hearing the noise.

They saw Wei Zixian sitting on the bed, clutching an empty cup tightly in his hand, his chest heaving violently.

I saw that his gaze, which had been empty and lifeless, was no longer there when he looked up at me.

"I want to be discharged," Wei Zixian's voice was hoarse.

Wei Yanqiu stood frozen at the doorway, looking at the long-lost vitality in her younger brother's eyes. Even though that vitality seemed so stubborn and terrifying, tears still welled up unexpectedly.

She covered her mouth with her hand, her shoulders trembling uncontrollably; the despair of the past few months had finally burst forth.

The nurse looked at Lu Fangchi, then at the concerning data on the monitor: "The patient's condition is not yet ready to be..."

"Prepare for discharge procedures." Lu Fangchi interrupted her, his tone resolute. "I will take full responsibility."

His gaze met Wei Zixian's, and they both saw the determination in each other's eyes.

The next three months became a period of torture for Wei Zixian as he underwent a process of self-reconstruction.

Eating was no longer a problem that required persuasion, but his primary task to be completed every day; it was a battle.

Breakfast at 7:00 AM, lunch at 12:00 PM, dinner at 6:00 PM, plus two high-concentration nutritional supplements at 10:00 AM and 3:00 PM.

Butler Li personally oversaw the delivery of meals, and Wei Zixian would sit down at the table on time.

The food was carefully prepared, easy to digest, and highly nutritious, but bland in taste.

Sometimes, he would suddenly stop halfway through a meal, his face turning ashen, and he would cover his mouth and rush into the bathroom, vomiting violently until he brought up bile.

After vomiting, he splashed cold water on his face, rinsed his mouth, wiped his mouth clean, returned to the table, and continued eating the rest of the food without expression.

The numbers on the scale slowly began to rise again.

The hollows on his cheeks gradually flattened out, and his wrists were no longer so thin that they would break at the slightest touch, but he was still far from being healthy.

The person in the mirror was still excessively pale, with dark circles under their eyes that seemed to be permanently branded onto their skin, but the eerie fire in their eyes never went out.

In the second week, he began to proactively contact all the doctors and therapists he had previously resisted.

I see a psychologist three times a week for fifty minutes each time.

He sat on the sofa in the treatment room, his back straight, his hands on his knees.

He answered whatever the doctor asked, his logic was clear and his words were concise, but his eyes remained cold, as if he were recounting someone else's story.

How's your sleep been lately?

"I wake up two to three times a day, for four to five hours."

What comes to mind when you wake up?

"Yentong."

"Besides the location, do you think of specific people or events?"

"meeting."

"Could you describe it?"

"cannot."

The dialogue often reached such a deadlock.

The doctor tried various techniques to guide Wei Zixian, but Wei Zixian's cooperation was only superficial.

He completed all the questionnaires, assessments, and exposure exercises, but his mind remained closed, and all his efforts seemed to be merely for the external goal of achieving normalcy.

In the third month, Wei Zixian began to get involved in company affairs.

Initially, it was just in the study, via video link, listening to Wei Yanqiu and several senior executives discuss some peripheral issues.

He sat in front of the screen, his face expressionless, simply listening.

Later, he requested to be moved into a small, internal meeting room.

When he first stepped into the conference room, all seven or eight executives present turned their attention to him.

Wei Zixian paused for a moment, his breathing became erratic, and his fingertips curled slightly, but he quickly regained his composure, his jawline tightened, and he walked to the seat reserved for him at the end of the long table and sat down.

The meeting discussed the details of an overseas investment deal.

Numbers, terms, risk assessments... a dense flow of information came in.

Wei Zixian forced himself to concentrate, fighting against the suffocating feeling and physiological dizziness brought on by the crowd, his nails digging deeply into his palms.

But he listened to the whole thing.

At a crucial juncture, when the discussion had reached a stalemate, he suddenly spoke up: "Note 7 on page 3, the potential cost increase brought about by the new amendments to the local labor law, is not taken into account in the current budget."

The meeting room fell silent instantly.

All eyes were once again on him, this time with disbelief.

Wei Yanqiu quickly flipped to the third page of the document, carefully read the inconspicuous footnote, and frowned deeply.

She definitely missed this crucial piece of information!

"How did you know?" a senior vice president couldn't help but blurt out.

Wei Zixian raised his eyes, his gaze calm and unwavering, yet it exuded an invisible pressure.

"A summary was included in last week's internal briefing on Asia-Pacific Business Law Dynamics."

The original article was published three months ago in the financial section of the South China Morning Post.

After he finished speaking, he stopped looking at anyone and lowered his gaze again.

But this brief intervention completely shifted the discussion, preventing a potentially huge loss.

After the meeting, Wei Zixian returned to his room and developed a high fever.

Thirty-nine degrees two degrees Celsius, confused, covered in cold sweat, trembling.

When the doctor arrived, he heard him muttering repeatedly in his unconscious state, only two words kept repeating: "Yantong... Yantong..."

The day after his fever subsided, he was as pale as a sheet, yet he showed up on time for the next meeting.

He began reading all the company's important documents, industry reports, and competitor analyses from the past three years with astonishing efficiency.

I get up at four in the morning every day and stay in the study until eight in the morning, spending four hours on intensive reading, memorization and analysis.

Then I ate breakfast, received treatment, processed some simple email replies in the afternoon, and continued reading until late at night.

He was like a tireless machine, or a sponge that had dried to the extreme, frantically absorbing all the business knowledge and information he could get his hands on.

Wei Yanqiu assigned him three top-notch assistants, who were specifically responsible for filtering and organizing information.

But she soon discovered that Wei Zixian's reading speed and comprehension ability far exceeded what her assistant could provide.

He not only observes, but also instantly grasps the key points, establishes connections, and raises incisive questions.

"What exactly is he trying to do?"

One late night, Wei Yanqiu looked at the silhouette of Lu Fangchi, who was hunched over his desk, through the study window and couldn't help but ask him, her voice filled with worry.

"If he continues like this, his health will collapse."

Lu Fangchi remained silent for a long time before slowly speaking.

"He is rebuilding a Wei Zixian. He is completely shattering the Wei Zixian that frightens her and makes her run away."

Then, piece by piece, I pieced it back together in a way that she might find acceptable.

"It seems like she might accept it..."

Wei Yanqiu repeated the sentence.

"So all that hard work he put into learning these things, getting involved in company affairs, and making himself useful, strong, and normal, was for..."

"In order to reappear before her in the best possible light."

He wanted to wash away all traces on his body that might remind her of paranoia or abnormality.

He needs to become reliable and invincible, or at least appear to be so.

Wei Yanqiu covered her face, tears streaming down her cheeks: "It's my fault... If I hadn't forced her back then..."