Obsessive Young Master Wei: My Beloved Loses Control Every Night

What kind of smile is that?

Bian Zhizhi thought blankly.

Is it easy?

She opened her mouth, wanting to say "That's different," wanting to say "Mr. Lu is just a friend," wanting to say "Our situation is more complicated."

But all the words that welled up in my mouth were frozen in those unfathomable eyes.

Finally, he managed to squeeze out a dry sentence: "Young Master, our relationship is one of therapy."

"Not anymore," Wei Zixian corrected her, his tone firm, and reached out to take her hand. "We signed a contract. Here, you are mine."

He stroked the back of her hand.

She lowered her eyes and looked at their clasped hands. His hands were a size larger than hers, with long, slender fingers and distinct knuckles, enough to completely envelop hers.

She was thinking that these hands had just crushed a paper crane.

In the days that followed, the atmosphere in the activity room became subtle.

Wei Zixian no longer used the flamboyant way to declare his sovereignty as before.

He no longer forced her to come closer, no longer commanded her to do anything, and no longer stared at her with that burning gaze.

He became quiet.

He cooperated with the treatment, took his medication on time, and even in front of Butler Li, he maintained an image of being "dependent but controllable".

Bian Zhizhi initially breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that he had finally accepted the status quo and was willing to maintain the surface calm.

But she soon discovered that Wei Zixian's quietness was not compromise, but another form of control.

More hidden, more detailed, and more ubiquitous.

For example, he would remember all her little habits.

She liked to fold a small corner of the page as a mark when she read, and he would hand her an exquisite copper bookmark the next time she opened the book.

She usually arranges her healing materials from left to right, so he arranged them in the order she preferred beforehand.

She would sometimes drift off into a daze, gazing absently at the black pine trees outside the window, and he would sit quietly beside her, not disturbing her, just keeping her company.

This kind of pervasive attention is even harder to resist than the previous forceful demands.

Because it blurs the lines.

I can't tell the branches apart, so what is this anyway?

What unsettled her even more was that she found herself starting to get used to it.

Like a frog in warm water, by the time it realizes it's too hot, it's too late to jump out.

Bian Zhizhi felt panicked.

She kept telling herself that their relationship was just a therapeutic one.

She's here to make money.

Three months, just three months, and she can leave this oppressive Wei residence and start a new life.

She can't get involved.

Absolutely not.

But reason and emotion were like two pulling forces, constantly vying for dominance in her heart.

Every time she saw Wei Zixian, her heart would soften.

The boundaries are gradually becoming blurred.

But she was powerless to do anything about it.

The incident occurred on Friday afternoon.

After finishing her therapy session that day, Bianzhi, as usual, organized the week's healing records in the activity room.

Bian Zhizhi looked at the contents of the notebook and couldn't help but smile.

Perhaps things are really starting to look better.

Wei Zixian sat by the window reading a book.

Everything was the same as usual.

Until Bian Zhizhi's phone vibrated.

She picked up her phone, unlocked it, and saw a new message pop up on the screen.

The sender's name made her frown slightly.

Zhou Mingyuan, a student whom his father had helped in the past.

Zhou Mingyuan was five years older than her. Back then, Zhou Mingyuan's family was poor and he almost dropped out of school.

His father offered a helping hand and sponsored him to complete his postgraduate studies.

Later, Zhou Mingyuan entered the investment banking industry and, through his own efforts, made a name for himself.

During holidays, he would send his father a text message to greet him and occasionally inquire about her well-being.

Bian Zhizhi responded politely throughout, but maintained a distance.

She wasn't one to trouble others, and besides, she and Zhou Mingyuan didn't have much interaction beyond their father-son relationship.

However, in the past two weeks, Zhou Mingyuan has been contacting her much more frequently.

From the initial "How are you doing lately?" to "How's work going?", and then to "Do you have time to grab a bite together?"

Bian Zhizhi always politely declined, saying that she was busy with work and it was inconvenient for her to go out while living at her employer's house.

She thought Zhou Mingyuan would understand her hints.

But clearly, he didn't.

Or rather, he understood, but didn't want to give up.

Today's message is even more direct:

[Zhizhi, I'm going to meet a client in the west of the city this weekend. I heard you work nearby? If it's convenient, let's meet up. There are some things I'd like to talk to you about regarding your uncle.]

Bian Zhizhi stared at the message on the screen, her fingertips hovering over the keyboard, hesitant to make a move.

She didn't know what to say in response.

A direct refusal would seem too harsh, given Zhou Mingyuan's past relationship with his father.

But agree to meet? She really didn't want to.

It wasn't that she had any issues with Zhou Mingyuan, but rather that her current situation was too complicated.

She is Wei Zixian's personal healer, and she has signed a contract that prevents her from going out at will.

More importantly, she didn't want to drag anyone into the mess between her and Wei Zixian.

Moreover, Wei Zixian was right next to him.

Although her back was to him, she could feel his gaze.

He must have seen her looking at her phone, he must have seen her furrowed brow, and he must have sensed her distress.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Wei Zixian's voice came from behind: "What's wrong?"

Bian Zhizhi subconsciously turned off the screen, turned around, and forced a smile: "It's nothing, just a spam text message."

She lied.

Her eyes darted around, avoiding his gaze.

Wei Zixian looked at her. He understood everything, including all of Bian Zhizhi's subtle expressions.

Wei Zixian was more like a psychologist to Bian Zhizhi.

He didn't ask any further questions, but simply nodded and looked back at the book in his hands.

Bian Zhizhi was unwilling to talk about it, and Wei Zixian wouldn't ask, because he had plenty of ways to find out about the text message and had also come up with a solution.

In the evening, the therapy session ended, and Bian Zhizhi left the activity room to return to her room.

She closed the door, leaned against it, took out her phone again, turned on the screen, and stared at the message for a long time.

My fingers tapped and typed on the keyboard, deleting and revising, and finally, I sent a reply.

[Senior Brother Zhou, I'm sorry, I have work commitments this weekend and it's inconvenient for us to meet. Could you please discuss my father's matter with me on WeChat?]

She sent the message and waited a few minutes.

Zhou Mingyuan did not reply.

Bian Zhizhi sighed, threw her phone on the bed, went into the bathroom, and turned on the shower.

Hot water was washing over her body, but she couldn't feel any warmth; her mind was a jumbled mess.

Why is Zhou Mingyuan suddenly so persistent?

What about my father?

What could possibly happen to my father?

Hasn't the debt already been resolved?

Or……

She dared not think any further.

The next day, Zhou Mingyuan did not reply to the message.

On the third day, there was still no reply.

Bian Zhizhi felt a vague unease, but more than that, she was confused.

Zhou Mingyuan wasn't the type to hold a grudge and not reply, unless...

Unless something happens.