📖Written by: MSY

🗓️Published on: December 25, 2025

🧠 Why Fu Yechuan Is Obsessive?

Previously, I wrote about Top 10 Su Nan Power Moves — a celebration of her growth, independence, and quiet strength 🌱✨. That post focused on how Su Nan takes control of her own story, one decisive moment at a time.

But after finishing that list, I realized something: you can’t fully talk about Su Nan’s rise without talking about the man who keeps orbiting around her 👁️.

So this time, I want to talk about Fu Yechuan.

🔍 The Anatomy of Obsession: Why Fu Yechuan Is the Most Complex Anti-Hero in Modern Fiction

In the landscape of modern web novels, few characters polarize readers quite like Fu Yechuan 🕴️. Some readers see him as just another cold CEO archetype 🏢. Others see him as a cautionary example of what happens when power collides with emotional illiteracy ♟️.

Personally, I’ve always felt that if Su Nan represents a woman growing into independence and self-worth 🕊️, then Fu Yechuan represents the painful resistance to that growth ⛓️. He’s intense, proud, and often incredibly frustrating. And yet, no matter how many times I sigh while reading his scenes, he remains the emotional center of the story 💔.

To understand Fu Yechuan, I don’t think it’s enough to simply label him with “red flags.” At some point, I realized we have to look deeper — at the psychological machinery 🧩 that keeps pulling him back into obsession.

1. ♟️The Transactional Heart: Love as a Business Negotiation

Fu Yechuan manages his emotions the same way he manages his global empire: through control 🏢♟️. In his world, everything has a strategy. Every deal has leverage. Every outcome must be managed.

The problem is that he brings this exact mindset into his relationship with Su Nan.

To him, love isn’t a fluid emotional exchange — it’s a transaction. So when Su Nan leaves 🚪, his obsession isn’t just about heartbreak 💔. It feels more like a breach of contract.

Reading this, I kept thinking: he isn’t trying to win her back — he’s trying to regain ownership of a narrative that slipped out of his hands 🪞. That’s why his presence feels suffocating instead of comforting. He isn’t chasing a partner. He’s trying to reclaim control over his own life.

2.⏳ The Sunk Cost Fallacy and the Inability to Let Go

Psychologically, Fu Yechuan feels like a textbook case of the sunk cost fallacy 🧠⏳. He invested years into being the “superior” partner in the relationship, and his identity is tied to that role.

Letting Su Nan go — especially a Su Nan who is now thriving, confident, and independent 🌱✨ — would mean admitting that his investment failed.

What stood out to me here is that his obsession doesn’t come from love alone. It comes from pride 🔥. He needs to prove that the past version of himself was right all along.

Key insight: Fu Yechuan isn’t just chasing Su Nan. He’s chasing a version of himself that never fails 🕰️.

3.🪞Pride vs. Narcissistic Injury

Fu Yechuan’s pride and regret are constantly at war ⚔️, and it shows.

In psychology, when someone experiences a deep rejection that damages their self-image, it’s often referred to as a narcissistic injury 🧠. That description fits him uncomfortably well.

He knows he made mistakes. You can see it in his hesitation, in the way he overcompensates with dramatic gestures ⚡. But his pride won’t allow him to offer a quiet, sincere apology.

Instead, his regret turns inward — and slowly hardens into obsession ⛓️.

4.🔥 The Cracking Mask: What Jealousy Reveals

Every time another man enters Su Nan’s life, Fu Yechuan’s composure doesn’t just crack — it collapses 🔥.

His jealousy isn’t subtle or elegant, and honestly, that’s why those scenes stand out so much. They strip away the polished CEO image 🕴️ and expose something raw underneath.

What I noticed is that his jealousy isn’t really about rivalry. It’s fear 😶. Deep down, he’s terrified of being replaced — because on some level, he suspects that he can be replaced.

5. 🕰️ The Haunting of the Past

One of the most painful aspects of Fu Yechuan’s character is how often he lives in the past ⏳.

He’s haunted by the version of Su Nan who used to wait for him, who revolved her life around his schedule 🕰️. And he seems convinced that if he replays those memories enough times, he’ll find the exact moment where everything went wrong.

The past isn’t editable 🚫. While Su Nan is building a future 🌱, Fu Yechuan is trapped in a timeline that no longer exists.

6. 😶 The Eloquence of Silence

Interestingly, Fu Yechuan is often most compelling when he says nothing at all 😶.

The scenes where he watches Su Nan from a distance 👁️, or when heavy silence hangs between them, carry more emotional weight than his speeches ever do 🌫️.

He’s surrounded by power, wealth, and people — yet emotionally, he’s completely alone 💔.

7. ⛓️ Persistence vs. Devotion: The Core Misunderstanding

At the heart of Fu Yechuan’s arc is a fundamental misunderstanding of love.

He believes persistence equals devotion ♟️. That staying, insisting, and refusing to give up is proof of how deeply he cares.

But what the story quietly shows is that love also requires restraint, respect, and acceptance 🕊️.

Sometimes, love means stepping back — not pressing forward 🚪.

🧠 Final Thoughts: Why We Can’t Stop Reading

Fu Yechuan feels like a mirror 🪞 for some of our worst instincts — the desire to control outcomes, the refusal to accept loss, and the regret over what could have been handled differently ⏳.

He isn’t a villain. He’s a man trying to return to a home he doesn’t realize he helped burn down himself 🥀.

And maybe that’s why his story stays with us.

💬 Reader Reflection

If you were Su Nan, would you ever be able to forgive someone who treated love like a business transaction ♟️💔?
Or is Fu Yechuan’s obsession a permanent red flag ⛓️, no matter how much regret follows?

I’m curious how others felt reading his arc 💬❓.

*This article is an original commentary written for educational and discussion purposes.