Any Closer and I'll Lose Control - Chapter 8

It hurts so much!

Meng Tang curled up on the seat, her fingers trembling as blood soaked through the bandage.

Damn it. Wei Chuan couldn’t bear to look and quickly dialed a number.

The call rang five or six times before it was answered.

“Auntie, are you off work yet? I need to bring someone over, my classmate is injured.”

The person on the other end asked which department and where the injury was.

Wei Chuan replied immediately, “Sculpture department, injured on the webbing between the thumb and index finger. The blood’s already seeped through the bandage.”

After hanging up, he glanced at Meng Tang, who was crying and shaking, and sped up.

Five minutes later, Wei Chuan parked the car outside the emergency building.

Meng Tang kept her hand close, letting the blood drip onto herself to avoid dirtying Wei Chuan’s car.

Wei Chuan opened the passenger door and reached out to her. “Take it slow.”

Meng Tang grasped his hand with her right hand and stepped onto the SUV’s footboard.

She was weak all over, her lips pale as if she’d lost too much blood.

The moment she stood up, Meng Tang’s vision blurred, her head heavy, and panic surged through her.

“I… I feel awful.”

She barely managed to whisper the words before collapsing.

Wei Chuan caught her in his arms, his own heart pounding. “Meng Tang? Meng Tang?”

Shit, is she really passing out?

Not daring to waste another second, he carried her straight into the emergency room, shouting “Help!” the whole way.

A sharp, refreshing mint scent, Wei Chuan’s scent, drifted into Meng Tang’s nose.

Cool and crisp, it smelled amazing. She instinctively sniffed, making Wei Chuan freeze for a second.

Wei Mingzhu was startled by her nephew’s urgency and quickly motioned for him to set the girl down.

Wei Chuan didn’t want to interfere with his aunt’s work and waited nearby, the faint warmth of Meng Tang’s breath lingering on his neck.

After what felt like forever, a nurse came over and reassured him, “Don’t worry, it’s just low blood sugar. She’s awake now, and Dr. Wei is treating her wound.”

Wei Chuan nodded stiffly.

Twenty minutes later, the wound was properly treated.

Meng Tang thanked the doctor, her face still ghostly pale.

“Another three millimeters deeper, and you would’ve damaged the tendon,” Wei Mingzhu said. “Stitches come out in seven days. Come back for dressing changes the first three days, and keep it dry.”

“Got it. Thank you, Doctor.”

Wei Mingzhu smiled. “Go on.”

Meng Tang stood up and spotted Wei Chuan sitting on a chair by the door.

She thought about treating him to a meal, only to realize she hadn’t even brought her phone.

When Wei Chuan saw her, he stood and walked over. “Wait for me a second. I’ll let my aunt know.”

Meng Tang nodded.

She’d caused him so much trouble today.

When Wei Chuan returned, Meng Tang spoke up awkwardly, “I didn’t bring my phone. Can I treat you to a meal next time?”

“No big deal,” Wei Chuan said. “The cafeteria’s closed by now. Let me take you to eat first.”

Meng Tang shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ll walk back to get my phone and grab something quick.”

“You just had low blood sugar,” Wei Chuan countered. “If you’re walking back, you need to eat first.”

Meng Tang hadn’t eaten all morning and was starving, but she’d already inconvenienced Wei Chuan too much. She didn’t know what to say.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” Wei Chuan chuckled. “No need to be so polite.”

“Alright.” She gave in. “Next time, it’s on me.”

“Deal.”

The hospital was close to campus, with plenty of food options nearby. Meng Tang pointed at a wonton shop. “How about that one?”

“Sure.”

Wei Chuan didn’t like eating wontons, so he ordered noodles instead, but he told Meng Tang that the reason he avoided wontons was that they didn’t fill him up.

Meng Tang leisurely blew on her wontons to cool them down and said, “Your ornament might have to wait a little longer.”

Wei Chuan replied, “No problem. Do people in your major get injured often?”

Meng Tang said, “The major itself is fine. It’s just that I’ve been learning wood carving from my grandfather since I was little, so injuries are unavoidable.”

Wei Chuan glanced at Meng Tang’s hands, knuckles prominent, calluses rough, not at all like a girl’s hands.

Meng Tang instinctively pulled them back. She knew her hands were ugly.

But holding a carving knife for years made smooth, delicate skin impossible.

“Why would a girl like you want to learn wood carving?” Wei Chuan asked curiously.

“There’s no one else in my family, just me and my grandpa,” Meng Tang said. “I didn’t want his craftsmanship to die with him.”

As they ate and chatted, Meng Tang insisted on not letting Wei Chuan see her off after the meal.

She had seen him drive out earlier; he must have had something to do. She didn’t want to trouble him further.

After stopping by the studio to grab her phone, Meng Tang headed straight back to the dorm.

The room was empty, the oil painting department had two afternoon classes.

Meng Tang held up her injured hand, taking two hours longer than usual to barely wash away the blood and sweat clinging to her.

Her clothes were stained with blood, and since she couldn’t wash them out, she decided to toss them.

Just as she threw them away, the dorm door swung open.

Xie Lingyin froze at the sight of her heavily bandaged hand. “What happened to your hand?”

Meng Tang smiled. “It’s nothing. Just a cut from the carving knife.”

Xie Lingyin washed her hands and clicked her tongue. “Why didn’t you wait for us to help you shower?”

Meng Tang: “…”

She’d rather rot than let someone help her bathe.

Xie Lingyin, having grown up in the north, scoffed. “You southerners are so prissy, all shy and hesitant. Sit still, I’ll blow-dry your hair.”

“Thanks.”

On Meng Tang’s desk sat a wooden-carved mirror, a gift she had brought when she first started university, every girl in the dorm had one.

She studied Xie Lingyin’s reflection: delicate, adorable features paired with a bright, straightforward personality. No wonder Wei Chuan liked her.

Shi Lan and Yang Ke returned to the dorm and were equally shocked to hear about Meng Tang’s injury.

“What about Thursday’s basketball class? That creepy TA isn’t still going to make you participate, is he?”

Meng Tang’s hands were especially important. She turned to Shi Lan. “I’ll go to class with you Thursday afternoon and ask the teacher for leave. What can the TA say then?”

Shi Lan thought it over and agreed. But come Thursday, misfortune struck, the gym teacher got into a rear-end collision.

The two classes were temporarily taken over by TA Wang Jue.

When he saw Meng Tang’s heavily wrapped hand, Wang Jue’s expression remained cold. “What’s wrong with your hand?”

Meng Tang disliked him and answered just as coolly, “It’s injured.”

Wang Jue sneered. “Injured?”

Meng Tang frowned. “Yes.”

Wang Jue reached out, and Meng Tang instinctively recoiled. “What are you doing?”

Wang Jue: “I want to see if it’s real.”

“I have no reason to lie,” Meng Tang said, keeping her hand hidden. The stitches were coming out tomorrow, and given Wang Jue’s questionable character, she didn’t dare show him.

Wang Jue gave her a sidelong glance. “Then go run five laps around the track. You can’t just sit here while everyone else practices.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Shi Lan finally snapped. “Her hand is injured, she’s getting the stitches out tomorrow. If she falls while running and makes it worse, are you going to take responsibility?”

Wang Jue’s face darkened, and he slammed the basketball down. “Are you art majors really this fragile? Can’t even run without falling over?”

Shi Lan also shouted at him, “Do you have a problem with our art academy? Just an assistant professor, yet you put on such airs during class. Do you think we’re easy to bully because we’re all girls?”

“Exactly.”

The other girls chimed in, though their voices were much quieter.

Wang Jue, having been publicly scolded by a girl, felt his pride shatter. He threatened, “If you don’t like it, get out. You’ll face the consequences.”

Meng Tang pulled Shi Lan back and stared directly at Wang Jue. “Don’t go too far. I came to ask the teacher for leave-”

“If you’re not here for class, then get out,” Wang Jue interrupted.

“Get out if you’re not here for class? Who do you think you are?”

Meng Tang turned at the sound of a familiar voice and saw Wei Chuan, followed by two other boys from the school team.