The Tender, Possessive Ghost Who Locks My Ankles

Everyone agrees that Ruan Si is the purest and gentlest top psychiatrist around.

Cool and restrained, rational to the core, she can see into everyone's heart except her own, which has gone mad for one person.

Three years ago, on a drizzly day.

Under the eaves, the soft-spoken illustrator Wen Yao clutched her art supplies, her ankle sprained. She was quiet and stoic, making no fuss.

At that single glance, a ray of moonlight settled into Ruan Si's desolate, lifeless world.

From then on, tenderness became a cage, and favoritism became a shackle.

She gave Wen Yao all the world's gentlest love.

She took care of every detail of her life, indulged her endlessly, and pampered the sweet, pain-shy girl until everyone envied her.

But no one knew that beneath that tender exterior lay a possessiveness so sickeningly intense it knew no bounds.

She quietly severed all of Wen Yao's social ties, controlled her every move, and took away her freedom.

Late at night, Ruan Si leaned over her, her palm clamped tightly around Wen Yao's slender, fragile ankle as her fingertips stroked it. Her voice was tender yet sinister:

"Yao Yao, don't run."

"Your freedom doesn't matter. Your place is by my side."

Wen Yao was born to love freedom, fear restraint, and long for a life without limits.

She craved Ruan Si's overwhelming devotion, yet feared the imprisonment hidden beneath her tenderness.

Again and again, she struggled,