Any Closer and I'll Lose Control - Chapter 12

Meng Tang sat on the steps of the basketball court and instinctively looked up when she heard footsteps.

A flash of bright color passed before her eyes, and then Wei Chuan sat down beside her, placing something on her lap.

Meng Tang held it loosely and glanced sideways. “What is it?”

“Dinner, I picked up for you on the way,” Wei Chuan said. “How are you going to play basketball on an empty stomach?”

Meng Tang was slightly taken aback, not expecting Wei Chuan to buy her dinner.

“What are you looking at?” Wei Chuan unscrewed a bottle of water and took a sip. “Eat up.”

Meng Tang opened the bag to find a cherry blossom rice ball, yogurt, and a small box of tomatoes in different colors.

Wei Chuan watched as Meng Tang picked out the red ones to eat and chuckled. “Leaving the green and yellow ones behind?”

Meng Tang laughed at his sudden joke. “The green ones are too sweet, and the yellow ones don’t taste very good.”

“Give them to me,” Wei Chuan reached out. “I’ll eat them.”

Meng Tang handed him the remaining tomatoes and slowly finished her yogurt.

There was no trash can nearby, so Wei Chuan unfolded the plastic bag and motioned for Meng Tang to toss the empty yogurt bottle inside.

Noticing she used her left hand, he asked, “How’s your hand doing?”

Meng Tang thought he was anxious about the wooden carving and smiled. “Much better. I’ll be able to use a knife again in half a month, won’t delay your project.”

“Let me see your hand.”

“Huh?” Meng Tang was startled.

“What do you mean, ‘huh’? Just show me.”

His expression and tone were so matter-of-fact that Meng Tang instinctively opened her palm.

The remaining calluses had thinned, but her hand still didn’t feel as soft as an average girl’s.

Meng Tang only slightly extended her palm, as if reluctant to let Wei Chuan see the full, unsightly picture.

“Will it scar?” Wei Chuan’s expression didn’t change, though his brows furrowed slightly.

“No,” Meng Tang shook her head. “Dr. Wei prescribed an ointment.”

Wei Chuan set the trash bag aside and asked, “Can you practice dribbling?”

“I can.” Meng Tang demonstrated her grip. “See?”

“Come on, I’ll practice with you for an hour.” Wei Chuan pulled a basketball from his bag. “Has Wang Jue been giving you any more trouble?”

“No,” Meng Tang suddenly laughed softly. “He avoids me now.”

Wei Chuan smirked. “He broke up with his girlfriend recently and took it out on you. Serves him right.”

So that’s what happened. Meng Tang thought mischievously: Good riddance.

“Come here,” Wei Chuan beckoned. “Remember what I taught you before?”

Meng Tang felt a pang of guilt. She remembered, but executing it was another story.

Wei Chuan read her expression and teased, “If you transferred even a fraction of your carving talent to sports, you wouldn’t be like this.”

Meng Tang: “Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses.”

Having a talent for even one thing was already a gift from the heavens.

The basketball court had only one stubbornly standing streetlight, and Meng Tang’s elongated shadow was completely enveloped by another.

Wei Chuan stepped behind her and said softly, “Let’s start by finding the rhythm.”

Meng Tang positioned the ball at her waist as Wei Chuan explained some finer points.

For art students, physical education was a required elective, though the exams weren’t strict, just a fluid motion and three layups with each hand.

Dribbling from the centerline to a right-handed layup, retrieving the ball, and then a left-handed layup, even this routine was exhausting for Meng Tang.

Z University didn’t restrict elective choices, but PE was mandatory for freshmen and sophomores. Even if it wasn’t basketball, there were still soccer and volleyball.

With a thud, the basketball hit the rim, circled around the edge, and then dropped to the ground.

Wei Chuan chuckled and stepped forward, lightly steadying her with a hand on her back. “A full loop around the rim and still missed, seems like it’s got a mind of its own. Want to punch it a couple of times?”

The place was too quiet. His voice was so close, their breaths almost mingling into one. Meng Tang wasn’t used to it and instinctively moved forward.

“Don’t move,” Wei Chuan said, gripping her wrist and guiding the ball with her fingertips. “Flick with your fingers, power from your wrist and forearm.”

Following his rhythm, Meng Tang tried again, and the ball dropped through the tattered net.

“It went in?” She turned her head, looking up at Wei Chuan.

Her lips parted slightly, eyes bright with excitement.

Wei Chuan lowered his head, meeting her gaze.

The place was quiet and dim, the faint light outlining the silhouettes of the two figures.

Standing so close, their breaths intertwined, Meng Tang suddenly turned and ran to catch the basketball, its bouncing sound fading.

Without looking back, she murmured, “I’ll practice on my own for a bit.”

“Mm,” Wei Chuan replied, taking a step back.

In the distant bushes, a few guys exchanged glances, then,

“Holy shit, this place is practically a love sanctuary. Look at that soft lighting, the paired shadows, the rhythmic bounce of the ball.”

“So, this is how gentle he is when teaching a girl basketball? What’s all that yelling at us then?”

“Means you suck.”

“Fuck off.”

“Our Chuan’s got game. Is that ball even for playing? More like flirting, right?”

“Should we go over and scare them?”

“Nah, piss him off and we’re all dead meat.”

“Let’s bounce.”

“Wait, I didn’t see who the girl was.”

“You weren’t there that day, right? She’s from the art school, Meng Tang. Came to ask Chuan to model for her. He refused at first, but then somehow agreed.”

“So, she’s the one Chuan confessed to?”

“Most likely. Otherwise, why would he bother? When has he ever taught a girl basketball before?”

“Let’s go, quick, before they spot us.”

After an hour of practice, Meng Tang handed the ball back to Wei Chuan.

Taking it, he pulled out a wet wipe from his bag and offered it to her. “Clean your hands.”

“Thanks.” Meng Tang accepted it, using two wipes to get rid of the dirt.

A bottle of water appeared in front of her. Wei Chuan reminded her, “Drink slowly. I’ll walk you back to your dorm after.”

“I can go back alone,” Meng Tang said, not wanting to trouble him. “No need to go out of your way.”

Wei Chuan insisted, “It’s dark here. I’ll walk you past Building Five.”

Meng Tang fell silent for a moment. Wei Chuan glanced over, she seemed lost in thought.

“What’s on your mind?”

Remembering her first impression of him, Meng Tang smiled. “My opinion of you has changed a bit.”

“Oh?” Wei Chuan bent to pick up a trash bag. “Changed? Means you didn’t think much of me before, huh.”

“Uh…”

Their first encounter wasn’t something to bring up, too awkward.

Wei Chuan clearly recalled it too. Scratching his head, he defended himself weakly, “I really didn’t mean to that time. I didn’t expect your suitcase to break from just a bump.”

“Let’s not talk about it,” Meng Tang said, her mind flashing to the bra dangling from his palm.

Wei Chuan slung his bag over his shoulder and followed her.

Luckily, Building Five wasn’t far. They walked in silence for about ten minutes.

Meng Tang turned to say goodbye when suddenly, a long shadow darted out from under the camphor tree beside them.

“Ah!” Meng Tang let out a short scream.

“What’s wrong?” Wei Chuan startled too.

Meng Tang tilted her head to look over and let out a relieved sigh when she saw the person.

Scaring people like this in the middle of the night.

Wei Chuan turned his head and saw a charming young woman.

“Do you need something?” He didn’t move an inch, his body still half-turned.

The girl stepped forward, pouting as she glanced at Meng Tang, then asked in a hushed voice, “Senior, are you dating someone?”

Wei Chuan: “…Whether I am or not, what’s it to you?”

Clearly a confession, he didn’t want to invite unwanted romantic attention.

Meng Tang, even less eager to be misunderstood, pointed behind her. “Should I go, then?”

“Wait.” Wei Chuan stopped her. “It’s not like she’s confessing to you. Why are you hiding?”

Meng Tang: “…”

Was she supposed to stay, then?