Obsessive Young Master Wei: My Beloved Loses Control Every Night

Bian Wenbai's surgery was scheduled for 9:00 AM.

At 7:30, Bian Zhizhi and her mother were already in the ward.

Bian Wenbai changed into surgical scrubs and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked calmer than a few days ago, but his clasped hands trembled slightly.

"Dad, don't be nervous." Bian Zhizhi squatted down in front of him and held his hand. "Director Chen said the surgery is minor and will be over in two or three hours. Just take a nap, and you'll be fine when you wake up."

Bian Wenbai nodded, wanting to say something but unable to utter a sound, only squeezing his daughter's hand tightly.

Lin Suxin secretly wiped away her tears.

Bian Zhizhi saw this and gently put her arm around her mother's shoulder: "Mom, don't worry. I'll stay here and watch over you. Wanwan has made all the arrangements. The doctor will notify you as soon as the surgery is over."

At eight o'clock, the nurse came to pick her up.

Bian Zhizhi and her mother escorted her to the operating room door, watching as her father was wheeled inside. The automatic door slowly closed, and a red light illuminated, indicating "Operation in Progress."

The wait felt like an eternity.

Lin Suxin couldn't sit still and paced back and forth in the corridor.

Bian Zhizhi forced herself to sit up and took out her phone to try and distract herself, only to find that her new phone was completely empty. She had truly lost touch with the world of the past.

Su Wan arrived at 9:30, carrying breakfast. "Eat it while it's hot." She handed one portion to Lin Suxin and another to Bian Zhizhi, "Your favorite seafood porridge and soy milk."

"I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat even if you're not hungry." Su Wan sat down next to her, opened the lid, and the aroma of porridge wafted out. "Your uncle's surgery will take two or three hours. If you don't eat, you'll be the one collapsing when he comes out. Listen to me."

Bian Zhizhi barely managed to eat two bites; they tasted like nothing at all.

Other family members arrived at the waiting area one after another, and the air was filled with the smell of disinfectant and a sense of oppressive anxiety.

Bian Zhizhi stared at the door and suddenly thought of Wei Zixian.

How is he now?

The thought startled her.

She shouldn't think about him, she can't think about him.

But the brain is like a rebellious child; the more you try to stop it from thinking, the less you can control it.

Will he be angry if he finds himself missing?

Will I still be sad?

Bian Zhizhi gripped the paper cup tightly in her hand. The hot soy milk burned her palm through the cup, and the real stinging pain brought her a little more to her senses.

"Zhizhi, are you... alright?"

"I just..." she closed her eyes, "feeling very sad."

I grieve for Wei Zixian, I grieve for Wei Yanqiu, and I grieve for myself.

They were all trapped in an unsolvable predicament.

Wei Zixian is trapped in trauma and dependence, Wei Yanqiu is trapped in guilt and control, and she is trapped in morality and emotion.

No one is a winner.

The operating room door opened.

Bian Zhizhi suddenly stood up and saw a nurse come out: "A family member of Bian Wenbai?"

"Here!" She and her mother rushed over at the same time.

"The surgery went smoothly, the tumor was completely removed, and the tissue was sent for pathology, but it was found to be benign to the naked eye."

"The patient has woken up. He'll be observed for half an hour and then returned to his ward," the nurse said. "The surgeon will come out in a little while to give us a detailed explanation."

Lin Suxin's legs went weak, and Bian Zhizhi quickly supported her.

Her mother leaned on her shoulder and finally cried out, a cry of relief.

Bian Zhizhi hugged her mother and gently patted her back, but her eyes were fixed on the operating room door that had closed again.

My father is alright now.

Great news.

Director Chen came out half an hour later and gave a detailed explanation of the postoperative precautions.

Bian Wenbo was wheeled back to his ward. The anesthesia hadn't completely worn off, and he was still drowsy, but his vital signs were stable.

Bian Zhizhi and her mother stayed by the bedside, and their anxiety gradually subsided.

Outside the window, the sky over Yantong was a grayish-blue, with thick clouds that looked like it was about to rain.

She suddenly remembered the black pines at the Wei residence; they must look especially verdant in the rain.

I remember him saying that he liked rainy days because the sound of rain could drown out other sounds and made him feel safe.

Bian Zhizhi closed her eyes.

Forget it.

She told herself, "It's all in the past."

But she knew that some things were simply insurmountable.

*

Lu Fangchi rushed back from Zurich.

He was in a meeting when he received Wei Yanqiu's call. He heard a voice on the other end of the line that was almost in tears: "Fang Chi, come back... Zixian is dying, what should I do...?"

He grabbed his coat and rushed out of the meeting room.

I didn't sleep for a second during the more than ten-hour flight.

When he rushed into the Wei residence, his eyes were bloodshot, his suit was wrinkled, and his hair was messy.

"Where is he?" he asked Wei Yanqiu, who came to greet him, his voice hoarse.

Wei Yanqiu had lost weight, wasn't wearing makeup, had dark circles under her eyes, and had a small piece of gauze on her cheekbone.

She pointed upstairs: "They won't see anyone, won't eat or drink, smashed things yesterday, and haven't made a sound today. Fang Chi, I'm scared..."

As she spoke, tears welled up again, but she held them back tightly.

Lu Fangchi didn't say anything, he just patted her shoulder.

Lu Fangchi turned and went upstairs.

He stood outside Wei Zixian's door for five minutes, without knocking, and then spoke directly:

"Wei Zixian, open the door. It's me, Lu Fangchi."

It was deathly silent inside.

Lu Fangchi wasn't in a hurry. He sat down against the door, took out a cigarette case from his pocket, put one in his mouth, then, remembering that Wei Zixian hated the smell of smoke, he irritably stuffed it back in, squeezing the cigarette case out of shape.

"I heard it from your sister," he continued through the crack in the door, "Bian Zhizhi left. She left without saying goodbye."

A faint sound came from inside the door, like the rustling of fabric.

Lu Fangchi continued, his tone flat: "I checked, her parents moved out overnight, their phones were disconnected, and they vanished into thin air."

But you know me, if I want to find someone, I can find them. Give me time, and I'll help you find her.

Still, deathly silent.

"But you have to live first, Wei Zixian." Lu Fangchi's voice turned somber. "If you die, who will I bring you back for? To visit your grave? To have her say 'I'm sorry' at your grave?"

"You're really something, trading your own life for her lifelong guilt."

"She's not coming back." A voice finally came from inside the door, so hoarse it was almost inaudible.

Lu Fangchi's spirits lifted, and he leaned forward: "Yes. As long as she's still on this earth, I can find her. But you have to open the door first so I can see if you're dead."

"I don't want to see anyone."

"I'm not a 'person,' I'm Lu Fangchi," he said. "Wei Zixian, open the door. I'll count to three, and if you don't open it, I'll break down the door. You know I'm capable of that."

"one."

"two."

A long silence.

Lu Fangchi could even hear his own heartbeat.

Just as he took a deep breath, about to ram the door, the lock clicked softly and opened a crack.

Lu Fangchi pushed open the door and entered; the scene in the room made his heart clench.

Wei Zixian curled up on the carpet in the corner, leaning against the wall, clutching a painting tightly in his arms.

He had lost a lot of weight; his pajamas hung loosely on his body, his cheeks were sunken, and his cheekbones were prominent.

His eyes were dark and bluish-black, and his lips were dry, cracked, and oozing blood.

What alarmed Lu Fangchi the most was his eyes, staring blankly ahead, unfocused.

The ground was littered with shards of porcelain, scraps of paper, and the remains of a broken lamp; it was a complete mess.

However, there was only one clean area, within a one-meter radius of Wei Zixian, which was spotless.

He rubbed the painting repeatedly with his sleeve until the edges became frayed.

Lu Fangchi approached, squatted down, and looked at the painting clearly.

"Is this all?" Lu Fangchi asked.