Obsessive Young Master Wei: My Beloved Loses Control Every Night

Bian Zhizhi felt a slight tightness in her chest.

She offered no comment, only whispering, "It's there."

That afternoon, she spent two hours with Xiaoyu in the sand table room.

Xiaoyu put four things in total.

As the therapist was leaving get off work, he looked at the sandplay photos and nodded to Bian Zhizhi: "Very good. On the first contact, he was able to place things, which is a breakthrough. You are very patient."

Bian Zhizhi smiled but didn't say anything.

As I left the center, it was nearly dusk, and the sunset over Yantong was a soft pinkish-purple, gently spreading across the sky.

She walked slowly along the street, passed a flower shop, and bought a bunch of fresh ranunculus.

It's very cheap, only six yuan for a small bunch, wrapped in old newspapers, but the aroma is strong.

When I got home, my mother was making soup in the kitchen, and the aroma filled the house.

The father sat on a recliner on the balcony, covered with a blanket, watching the children playing in the yard below.

"Dad, how are you feeling today?" Bian Zhizhi placed the ranunculus into the glass vase on the dining table.

Bian Wenbai turned his head, smiled at her, pointed to his throat, waved his hand, and said, "It doesn't hurt anymore, that's good."

During dinner, Lin Suxin finally couldn't help but ask cautiously.

"Zhizhi, that night... the Miss Su who came to pick us up said something about the Wei family..."

"Mom," Bian Zhizhi interrupted her, serving her father a bowl of soup.

"Let's not talk about that. Dad's recovering well now, we have a new place to live, and I've found a job. Everything's getting better, isn't it?"

Lin Suxin looked at her husband, then at her daughter, and finally sighed and nodded: "Yes, things are getting better. Let's eat."

Bian Zhizhi lowered her head and drank her soup.

That night, she dreamed of Wei Zixian again.

In her dream, she struggled but couldn't break free. Finally, she woke up with a suffocating feeling, covered in a cold sweat.

She sat up, turned on the bedside lamp, and checked her phone: 3 a.m.

No messages, no phone calls.

She opened the photo album; it was empty.

There are no photos, no screenshots, and no visual records of the past.

She got out of bed and walked to the window.

The night in Yantong is very quiet, with the occasional car passing by, and lights still burning in the distance.

She is free.

But why does the hole in my heart seem even deeper?

My phone screen lit up briefly; it was a calendar reminder: tomorrow is my father's first check-up.

She turned off the reminder, went back to bed, and forced herself to close her eyes.

I have to get up early tomorrow to accompany my father to the hospital, go to work, and face Xiaoyu and his symbolic sand table world.

She has no time to dwell on the past.

They are not qualified.

A few days later, the new therapist hired by Wei Yanqiu arrived.

He is a top domestic expert in post-traumatic stress disorder. His surname is Zhou, he is in his forties, wears gold-rimmed glasses, has a gentle temperament, and an impressive resume.

A PhD from a prestigious overseas university and a specially appointed consultant for several top-tier hospitals.

Wei Yanqiu personally went to the door to greet him.

She hadn't slept well for several days; her face was covered with heavy foundation, her eyes were bloodshot, and her forced spirit couldn't hide her exhaustion.

"Dr. Zhou, please help me." She gripped his hand so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"My brother is in very bad condition. He hasn't eaten properly for more than ten days and has only been forced to drink a few mouthfuls of water occasionally. If this continues, his body will collapse."

Money is not a problem, as long as I can get him to talk, as long as I can get him to eat...

Dr. Zhou grasped her hand and patted it: "President Wei, I understand. Such severe regressive behavior and refusal to communicate are not uncommon when someone loses an important person."

Let's try to build trust first, and take it slowly.

They went upstairs together.

Wei Yanqiu stopped outside Wei Zixian's door and knocked.

"Zixian, your sister has invited a doctor to see you. Dr. Zhou is very professional and can help you. Could you please open the door?"

It was deathly silent inside.

Dr. Zhou stepped forward, his tone calm and soothing.

"Young Master Wei, I am Zhou Mingyuan."

I know you're going through a tough time right now. Losing someone important feels like a piece of your heart has been ripped out, leaving an empty, aching feeling. You can't eat, you can't sleep, and you feel like nothing matters anymore.

This feeling is real and is permitted.

We can talk; we don't necessarily have to meet in person, we can even talk through a door.

Would you like to talk to me? Anything is fine, or just to hear my voice?

His voice has a relaxing, magnetic quality.

Under normal circumstances, it might actually have a calming effect.

Ten seconds, twenty seconds, one minute.

Just as Dr. Zhou adjusted his breathing and prepared to try again.

Suddenly, a heavy thud came from inside the door as it was being slammed against it!

boom! boom! boom!

Each screech was more ferocious and violent than the last, causing the solid wood door panels to tremble.

This was followed by Wei Zixian's hoarse roar:

"Get out! All of you, get out!"

"Bring her back! I just want her back!"

Then came the ear-piercing sound of shattering glass, the loud crash of furniture being overturned, and something being smashed to the ground...

The chaotic destruction pierced through the door, a sound that sent chills down one's spine.

Dr. Zhou's expression changed.

He has encountered many patients with emotional instability, but this intense resistance filled with destructive desire still poses a challenge for him.

This is not a situation where intervention and treatment are possible; this is the eye of the storm, and getting close will only result in being torn apart.

He took a half step back, adjusted his glasses, and turned to Wei Yanqiu, whose face was pale. His tone remained professional, but it revealed a sense of helplessness.

"Mr. Wei, I'm very sorry. I'm unable to carry out my work under these circumstances."

The patient is extremely averse to my presence; forcibly intervening will only exacerbate his trauma and may trigger more severe self-harm or aggressive behavior.

Wei Yanqiu's lips trembled: "Then...what should we do? Dr. Zhou, you're the best expert, you must have a way, right? You can't give up on him..."

"It's not about giving up, Mr. Wei." Dr. Zhou took a plan out of his briefcase.

"It is necessary to adjust the strategy at this stage."

What he needs now is the safe object he has identified, which is the Ms. Bian you mentioned.

This is currently the only breakthrough.

He paused, then lowered his voice: "If we really can't find Miss Bian..."

From a medical perspective, if the patient continues to refuse food and water and their vital signs deteriorate to a dangerous level, it may be necessary to consider mandatory medical intervention, such as hospitalization for intravenous nutritional support or even nasogastric feeding.

But given his current emotional state, coercive measures could cause more severe psychological harm and secondary trauma. It's a dilemma.

Wei Yanqiu's vision went black and she swayed, but Butler Li caught her in time.

"Keep searching...keep searching..." She grabbed Butler Li's arm. "Find Bian Zhizhi at all costs!"

After seeing Dr. Zhou off, Wei Yanqiu returned to his study and locked the door.

She needed some peace and quiet, and needed to catch her breath from the overwhelming sense of powerlessness that was almost consuming her.

I turned on my computer and found my inbox overflowing with unread emails, most of which were marked "urgent".

She opened the summary report sent by Zhou Lin.

The screen displays survey results from various sources, and the conclusions are strikingly consistent:

"No such person found."