Obsessive Young Master Wei: My Beloved Loses Control Every Night

Lu Fangchi stood outside the door, peering through the crack at the huddled figure inside, and for the first time felt a profound sense of powerlessness.

He had seen Wei Zixian at his worst, but he had never seen him like this.

Late at night on the twenty-fourth day, Wei Yanqiu was awakened by a violent cough.

The cough was heart-wrenching, as if it were trying to cough up all the internal organs.

She rushed into her brother's room and saw Wei Zixian curled up on the floor, his body convulsing from violent coughing, his face turning blue and purple, and his forehead covered in cold sweat.

"Zixian!" Wei Yanqiu rushed over to help him, but when she touched his skin, it was burning hot.

The family doctor was urgently called in and measured the temperature: 39.8 degrees Celsius.

Blood pressure is dangerously low, and the pulse is weak and rapid.

"Acute pneumonia, severe dehydration, and severe electrolyte imbalance. You must be taken to the hospital immediately! Otherwise, your life is in danger!" The doctor's voice was firm and resolute.

The ambulance roared in, shattering the deathly silence of the night sky above the Wei residence.

Medical staff carried the unconscious Wei Zixian downstairs on a stretcher; he was so light that he weighed almost nothing.

Wei Yanqiu followed her brother into the car, holding his cold hand tightly, tears streaming silently down her face.

Lu Fangchi followed in his car, speeding all the way.

At the hospital, in the emergency room, blood was drawn, an IV drip was administered, and the patient was put on a monitor.

Doctors and nurses bustled around him, but Wei Zixian, still unconscious, resisted, raising his hand to pull out the needle while muttering something.

Wei Yanqiu pressed him down, her voice choked and broken: "Zixian, don't move, you're on an IV drip... I'm begging you, you can do whatever you want after you get better!"

"It's better to be dead..." Wei Zixian uttered a clear sentence in his delirium, his eyes opening a crack as he stared blankly at the pale ceiling.

"If I die... you'll be free... and she'll be free too..."

"Don't say such things!" Wei Yanqiu cried out, completely losing her usual composure.

"I won't let you die! Wei Zixian, you better live! Mom and Dad are still abroad, if you dare to die, I... what will I do!" She sobbed uncontrollably.

Wei Zixian stopped speaking and closed his eyes again, only the tear tracks that kept sliding down his face, soaking his hair and pillow.

This is the scene that Lu Fangchi saw when he arrived at the hospital.

Wei Zixian lay on the hospital bed, his wrists and ankles restrained to prevent him from moving around and pulling out the needles.

An IV line was inserted into the back of his hand, and clear medication dripped down one drop at a time.

He was emaciated, his blue and white striped hospital gown hanging loosely on his body, his collarbones bony, and the veins on his neck bulging.

His eyes were half-open, his pupils were unfocused and lifeless, and only the lines and numbers jumping on the monitor proved that he was still alive.

Lu Fangchi walked to the bedside, bent down, and looked at the familiar yet unfamiliar face.

He remembered Wei Zixian, who used to run after him when he was a child; he remembered Wei Zixian, who smiled as he listened to his jokes when he was a teenager; and he remembered Wei Zixian, who told him "I will take good care of myself" before he went abroad.

"Wei Zixian," Lu Fangchi said, his voice hoarse, "you fucking bastard."

Wei Zixian's eyes twitched slightly as she looked at him, her gaze empty.

"Do you think that if you die, Bian Zhizhi will feel guilty for the rest of her life? That she'll come back to visit your grave?"

Lu Fangchi's voice grew louder and louder, as his suppressed anger and fear erupted.

"I'm telling you, no! She'll forget you quickly, start a new life, get married, have children, and live a happy and fulfilling life!"

And you, you'll just rot in the ground, forgotten by everyone! Even I'll fucking forget you!

Wei Yanqiu tried to stop him, grabbing Lu Fangchi's arm: "Fangchi, stop talking, he can't take it..."

Lu Fangchi shoved him away and continued yelling.

Do you want to punish yourself? Do you feel sorry for her?

Then act like a man, get better! Stand up! Go find her, kneel down in front of her and say sorry!

Use your whole life to make amends! To atone for your sins! Instead of lying here like a coward waiting to die!

What kind of nonsense is this? Making everyone alive suffer for you?!

"She doesn't want to see me anymore," Wei Zixian finally spoke, her voice weak. "She blocked me. She left without looking back."

"So what?!" Lu Fangchi slammed his fist on the metal railing beside the bed, making a loud bang that startled the nurse.

"She doesn't want to see you, so you just won't? Wei Zixian, when did you become so obedient?!"

You weren't like this before! Where did Wei Zixian go, the one who walked back home bleeding from his head?!

Where did Wei Zixian go, the one who told me, "I will protect myself"?!

"He's dead," Wei Zixian said softly, as if stating a fact.

"They're long dead. The one who came out of the cellar, the one who climbed up the teaching stairs, they're all long dead. What survived is just an empty shell that shouldn't be alive."

Lu Fangchi's fist was still pressed against the railing, his knuckles were broken and bleeding.

He looked at Wei Zixian, at those lifeless eyes, and all the words stuck in his throat, turning into a painful groan.

He suddenly turned around and rushed out of the ward, kicking over a trash can in the corner of the empty corridor.

The metal bucket rolled a long way with a clatter.

Then he squatted down, buried his face in his palms, and his shoulders trembled uncontrollably.

Wei Yanqiu chased after him and stood behind him, wanting to say something, but in the end she just handed him a tissue.

Lu Fangchi did not answer.

His muffled voice came from between his fingers: "I can't find her... I've tried everything, but I've covered up all the traces... I'm fucking useless..."

"Keep searching." Wei Yanqiu's voice rang out above him, unusually calm. "Search the entire country to find it."

We cannot let Zixian die before we find him.

She turned around and saw through the glass window in the ward door that her younger brother was still staring at the ceiling.

Her profile was as pale as paper under the cold hospital lights, as if she would melt into the air at any moment.

At that moment, Wei Yanqiu suddenly understood Bian Zhizhi's feelings when she left.

Some love is too heavy, so heavy that it can crush the person being loved.

And she personally placed this weight on Bian Zhizhi's shoulders.

Now, it's her turn to take on the responsibility.

A month is enough time for many things to change.

Her work at the rehabilitation center is progressing smoothly.

The center director spoke with her, affirmed her work, and proposed to sign a long-term contract with her, hoping that she could take charge of a new art therapy project.

"Teacher Bian, although you are young, you have a natural affinity for children, as well as patience and professional expertise."

This project primarily targets children with special needs from low-income families. Funding is limited, and the work may be more demanding, but it's incredibly meaningful. Would you like to give it a try?

Bian Zhizhi agreed almost without hesitation.

She rented a small shop not far from the rehabilitation center.

It's about 30 square meters; it used to be a stationery store.

She hired someone to do a simple renovation, painting the walls a warm beige, building a full-wall bookshelf, laying a rug in the middle, and placing a low table and cushions.

She plans to turn this place into an "art corner" for children in the community, offering low-cost or even free art education and emotional support courses.

This isn't a profit-making project; it's more like a wish, a way of giving back.