Any Closer and I'll Lose Control - Chapter 55

Meng Tang withdrew her hand just as she was about to knock on the door.

No reply to her text, no answer to her call, she had almost expected the door to remain unanswered too.

Tilting her head up, Meng Tang asked, “Why didn’t you pick up your phone?”

She hadn’t slept well last night and had even felt the urge to avoid Wei Chuan before leaving the house.

After much deliberation, she concluded that the only way to avoid awkwardness was to take the initiative and set the tone for their interactions.

She tentatively sent a text, made a call, and ultimately decided to show up in person.

As long as she stayed composed, it would be the other person who’d feel flustered. And sure enough, Wei Chuan stammered out an excuse about having fallen asleep and not hearing the phone.

He looked a little dazed at the moment, with a few strands of his short hair sticking up at the crown. His eyes flickered toward her before quickly darting away.

His awkwardness was almost endearing.

Meng Tang assumed he was still embarrassed about the unintentional hug from last night, she was too, though she managed to keep her composure.

She smiled. “It’s getting late. I just wanted to let you know I’m heading back to school.”

“Let me walk you.”

Another recruit for the “forget-your-own-principles” race. One moment, he was still thinking about keeping his distance from Meng Tang; the next, hearing she was returning to school, he instinctively took a step forward.

“No need,” Meng Tang replied politely but distantly. “I’ll just take a cab.”

“I was planning to head home anyway. Give me a minute, I’ll just freshen up first.”

Without waiting for her response, he turned and disappeared into the bathroom.

A quick brush of teeth, a splash of water on his face.

In under ten minutes, a neatly groomed and refreshed Wei Chuan stood before Meng Tang like a pillar.

Meng Tang turned toward the elevator. Glancing at the time, Wei Chuan asked, “It’s already 10:30. Did you have breakfast?”

Meng Tang shook her head. She hadn’t woken up until 9:30 and had come straight to see him after getting ready.

Wei Chuan glanced sideways. “I’m a little hungry. How about grabbing something nearby?”

“I’d rather eat back at school,” Meng Tang declined gently. “I stayed up late last night and need to catch up on sleep.”

Wei Chuan let out an “Oh” and followed her into the elevator, looking somewhat deflated.

After checking out at the front desk on the first floor, Meng Tang was about to pull out her phone to call a cab when Li Hanjin caught up to her from behind.

Meng Tang turned around with an indifferent expression, addressing him without any honorific. “Something else?”

“There is, actually,” Li Hanjin said with a warm smile, his demeanor a far cry from the confrontational stance he’d taken with Wei Chuan in the hallway the night before.

Wei Chuan, recalling Meng Tang’s “first-come, first-served” logic, grabbed her arm and claimed he had something to say too.

Meng Tang remembered how he’d stopped her outside his door last night, asking if she was free today.

Li Hanjin’s gaze turned icy as it flickered toward Wei Chuan.

Wei Chuan met his stare head-on, refusing to back down.

Meng Tang pulled her arm free from Wei Chuan’s grip and turned to Li Hanjin. “What did you want to tell me?”

Li Hanjin’s expression softened as he smiled. “I’ve moved most of my studio’s materials here. There’s a batch of premium wood in stock, and since it’s Saturday, I thought I’d take you to see them.”

Meng Tang blinked.

Wei Chuan scoffed inwardly. Old Man Meng had been carving wood for decades, their family estate had entire rooms dedicated to storing materials. What kind of wood hadn’t Meng Tang seen before? Did Li Hanjin really think he was impressing her?

The art district was a popular hangout for students from the art academy, and Meng Tang had been there before.

What truly piqued her curiosity was Li Hanjin’s studio, what kind of operation was it running?

But the old man had explicitly warned her not to get too close to Li Hanjin. Going against her mentor’s wishes wasn’t an option.

Moreover, Li Hanjin’s recent works have become increasingly commercialized. She follows the traditional path where cultural value outweighs economic gain, and preserving heritage is fundamental.

Could it be that the real reason Grandpa didn’t want her to get too close to Li Hanjin was simply because their paths diverged?

That seemed plausible.

With this in mind, Meng Tang declined Li Hanjin’s offer.

After leaving the hotel, Meng Tang asked Wei Chuan, “You asked me last night if I was free today, and just now you mentioned having something to discuss. What is it?”

Truthfully, there was nothing urgent. Wei Chuan recalled the absurd dream he’d had that morning, averted his gaze, and forced out an excuse:

“I want to confess to Xie Lingyin before the divisional competition.”

He felt he couldn’t go on like this, his heart belonged to Xie Lingyin, after all.

Meng Tang was taken aback. Before, he had been in no hurry, yet now he was bringing it up out of the blue on the street.

This guy really was… unpredictable.

She let out an “Oh” and asked, “Then you-”

“Help me out,” Wei Chuan gritted his teeth.

Meng Tang widened her eyes. “How am I supposed to help? Isn’t confessing your own business?”

“What I mean is, I want to buy her something new.” Wei Chuan didn’t want to give her the wooden carving from his bedside. “Can you give me some suggestions?”

This was essentially about gift-giving. Thanks to Wei Chuan, she already knew Xu Heqing liked electronics.

Xie Lingyin might appear ethereal, but she was actually quite pragmatic.

Since it was about catering to her preferences… Meng Tang looked up and said to Wei Chuan, “Why don’t you check out a professional art supply store?”

Wei Chuan looked utterly lost. “What should I buy there?”

“They have everything. Lingyin is in the oil painting department, you can ask the shopkeeper for recommendations.”

“What if the shopkeeper scams me?”

“They won’t. These are long-established stores that have been around for years.”

“Where’s the store?”

“There are some on and off campus, but Lingyin prefers the art supply shop on Old Fu Street.”

“Which one on Old Fu Street?”

“A century-old shop in a four-story building. The oil painting section has a Schmincke counter.”

“Schmincke is a brand name?”

“…Never mind, I’ll just go with you.”

“Great.”

“…”

Meng Tang found it odd, she had the distinct feeling he’d been waiting for her to offer to accompany him.

Wei Chuan hailed a cab, gallantly opening the rear door for Meng Tang before taking the front passenger seat.

Only then did he have a moment to check his phone. He hadn’t read the message Meng Tang had sent him that morning.

He tapped into it and typed: [I rarely go to Old Fu Street. What’s good to eat there?]

Meng Tang couldn’t help glancing at him from the back seat and replied: [There are a lot of cafés there, mostly artsy bistros and dessert places.]

Wei Chuan didn’t mind. As long as it filled his stomach, it was fine.

Old Fu Street was right behind the arts campus. Meng Tang led Wei Chuan to a bistro.

She said, “They serve seafood paella here. You can try it, though the presentation might be different from the takeout you ordered.”

Wei Chuan took her suggestion and ordered a portion. When the dish arrived, he finally understood what she meant by “different presentation.”

This was, after all, the backstreet of an art school. To appeal to their aesthetically demanding clientele, the food was styled like a painting.

Beautiful, yes, but utterly unappetizing. The rice was blue.

Meng Tang ordered two sandwiches, coffee, and a vegetable salad. Lunch was a rushed affair.

The shop they were heading to was just around the corner, diagonally across the street. Meng Tang listed the art supplies Xie Lingyin frequently bought and said,

“Just pick something within your budget.”

After speaking, she realized it was a pointless question, the young master had no budget to speak of; if he saw something he liked, he’d just buy it.

But Wei Chuan still responded with a nod.

Once they crossed the street, the two walked along the storefronts, heading left, and arrived in just a few minutes.

Wei Chuan didn’t know much about art supplies, so he let the shop owner recommend something. Seeing that Meng Tang didn’t shake her head in disapproval, he spent 2,800 yuan on a Mussini 16-color wooden box set.

Meng Tang checked the time, 1 PM, still enough to go back and catch a good nap.

As they stepped out of the art supply store, Wei Chuan carried the bag on the outer side of the sidewalk.

Suddenly, a black van pulled up beside them, giving off the vibe that the moment the door slid open, two kidnappers would jump out.

Wei Chuan shielded Meng Tang behind him, eyes sharp with vigilance.

The rear door was pulled open, revealing a strikingly handsome face.

Wei Chuan tilted his head in disbelief and blurted out, “Big Sis?!”

Wei Sijia crooked a finger at him. “Get in. I’ll give you a ride.”