He Lost Control with Jealousy — What Happened to Being Untouchable? - Chapter 47

Lu Tingzhou held the “divine artifact” up to his eyes, his slender fingers pinching the delicate straps, his expression feigning scrutiny and confusion.

Sang Wan felt her face burning, wishing she could disappear into the ground.

She stammered, her eyes darting away, “I… it’s a new design I’m working on… There are still a lot of details I haven’t figured out, like what kind of embellishments to use. It’s just a rough draft.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to bite her tongue off.

Hearing this, the amusement in Lu Tingzhou’s eyes deepened, almost overflowing.

He leaned closer, his warm breath brushing against her sensitive earlobe, “Oh? Is that so?”

“Then put it on, and let me give you some advice.”

His voice dropped to a husky, mesmerizing whisper, “After all, a man’s perspective is different from a woman’s. Maybe… I can give you some special inspiration.”

Sang Wan shook her head like a rattle-drum, “No, no, no… that’s not necessary! I think… I should study it in daylight when the lighting’s better…”

There was no way she’d dare put it on in front of him!

That would be admitting she spent every day thinking about how to seduce him.

Lu Tingzhou pressed his lips together, resting his forehead against hers, his voice rough as he asked, “Does your shoulder… still hurt?”

Sang Wan shook her head dazedly.

Getting his answer, the darkness in Lu Tingzhou’s eyes surged violently.

His kisses trailed down again, from her lips to her chin, then to…

Sang Wan trembled under his touch, soft whimpers escaping her lips.

Just when she thought she’d finally “get her wish” tonight, Lu Tingzhou abruptly stopped all movement at the peak of her arousal.

He pulled back slightly, the veins at his temples faintly visible as he looked at her.

“Put it on. Wear it for me.” His hoarse voice was laced with irresistible temptation.

Sang Wan: “…”

Her mind was completely blank, staring at the undisguised desire in his eyes…

Sang Wan felt utterly pathetic.

Her brain short-circuited for a few seconds, and by the time she snapped out of it, Lu Tingzhou had already tugged her robe down to her waist.

Just as she gritted her teeth and prepared to put it on, the man’s phone rang.

Lu Tingzhou didn’t even glance at his phone, signaling for her to continue.

But the phone kept ringing incessantly.

Irritated, he finally looked at the screen, his expression freezing for a few seconds when he saw the name.

Still, he answered, forcing his voice to remain calm.

“What’s wrong?”

A woman’s soft sobbing came through the phone, “Tingzhou, Kaikai has a fever. What should I do? I just arrived in Shencheng and don’t know my way around yet.”

Hearing the woman’s anxious voice, the heat in Sang Wan’s chest instantly cooled.

Before Lu Tingzhou could respond, a weak child’s voice piped up, “I want Uncle Lu. I miss Uncle Lu.”

Without waiting for Lu Tingzhou to speak, Sang Wan had already pulled her robe back on.

Though she knew she shouldn’t leave at a time like this, Lu Tingzhou couldn’t ignore the child.

“I’ll pick you up and take you to the hospital right away.”

He hung up, pulling Sang Wan into his arms and kissing her forehead. “Kaikai has a severe heart condition. Fevers are especially dangerous for him.”

Sang Wan pouted, her face flushed with frustration.

Though unhappy, she still replied generously, “Go ahead. I understand.”

Lu Tingzhou felt a pang of guilt at her understanding demeanor.

But after all, this was Sheng An’s only child.

Lu Tingzhou quickly got ready and left. Sang Wan lay in bed, listening to the roar of the car engine fading into the distance, her heart growing heavier.

This mother and son pair were indeed pitiful and deserving of help, but if they kept calling Lu Tingzhou for every little thing in the future, wouldn’t that become an endless entanglement?

What woman would want her man to be summoned away by another woman at any moment?

Especially at a time like this.

Sang Wan sat wrapped in her bathrobe for a long while, feeling unsettled, especially with Lu Tingzhou’s scent still lingering on her body and the memory of his fiery gaze lingering in her mind.

She didn’t know how long she sat there before she drifted off into a hazy sleep.

At the break of dawn, she felt the bed dip beside her, and soon after, arms wrapped around her from behind.

The man’s cool lips pressed against her neck, his hands restless.

“You’re back?”

Sang Wan’s voice was drowsy, soft and sweet, stirring a restless desire in him.

“Mmm.”

His deep, husky voice was thick with unmistakable desire.

“I’m tired. Stop moving around.”

Now fully awake, the discomfort she’d felt before sleep resurfaced.

She checked the time, 4 a.m. A man and a woman, alone late at night. The thought still made her uneasy.

She pushed lightly at the man nestled against her neck and said gently, “It’s almost dawn. Go back to your room and get some sleep. You have work tomorrow.”

Lu Tingzhou remained unmoved, his lips still brushing against the delicate skin of her neck, soft, smooth.

After a few lingering kisses, he murmured, “Kaikai’s condition has worsened. I need to go to the capital for a few days to arrange his surgery. Do you want to come with me?”

Sang Wan thought for a moment and shook her head. “I’d just be in your way.”

Truthfully, she didn’t want to see Lu Tingzhou standing beside that mother and son again.

The child clearly adored him, anyone would assume they had a close father-son bond.

And the gentle, nurturing woman beside them completed the picture of a perfect family.

What place did she have in such a heartwarming scene?

Sensing her distraction, Lu Tingzhou assumed she was still sleepy. He turned her over and pulled her into his arms.

“Baby, hold on a little longer. You can sleep in tomorrow.”

Just as his warm lips were about to descend, Sang Wan raised a hand to stop him. “Mr. Lu, your health matters. Aren’t you leaving for the capital tomorrow?”

Lu Tingzhou faintly detected her moodiness. He took her hand and pressed a scorching kiss to her palm, followed by a slow, wet caress of his tongue.

Sang Wan tensed instantly and yanked her hand back, chiding, “Go back to your room and sleep.”

Since she wasn’t willing, he didn’t force it. Instead, he held her close and whispered, “Then I’ll just hold you while we sleep.”

Sang Wan thought to herself, how could she possibly sleep like this?

She hadn’t slept well before he returned, and now with him holding her, wasn’t he just ensuring her insomnia?

Just as she was about to push him away, Lu Tingzhou’s deep voice sounded above her head. “I won’t move. I’ll just hold you.”

How could he not notice the little fox’s bad mood?

Seeing that he truly kept still, Sang Wan gradually relaxed. Almost unconsciously, she took a few deep breaths.

There didn’t seem to be any unfamiliar scents, just the familiar notes of his usual shower gel and cologne.

Remembering Lu Tingzhou’s slight obsession with cleanliness, she stopped tormenting herself.

Surrounded by his familiar scent, her eyelids grew heavy.

The next morning, when Sang Wan woke up, the space beside her was already empty.

Thinking of his trip to the capital, an inexplicable sense of loss settled in her chest.

As she headed downstairs, she saw the housekeeper, Aunt Wu, standing on the balcony, speaking on the phone.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. There won’t be any slip-ups.”

Sang Wan didn’t think much of it, assuming she was just making a call to family or friends, and prepared to head to the kitchen herself.

Hearing the noise, Aunt Wu hurriedly hung up the phone, a trace of panic flashing across her face.

Seeing that Sang Wan wasn’t paying attention to her, she quickly regained her usual respectful demeanor.

“Miss Sang, breakfast is ready.”

Sang Wan gave a faint “Mm” in response, not dwelling on it, and leisurely walked toward the dining room.

Soon, Aunt Wu brought out the breakfast, bird’s nest porridge, crystal shrimp dumplings, and a few refreshing side dishes.

But Sang Wan had little appetite, sipping the porridge in small bites as she absentmindedly opened her chat window with Lu Tingzhou.

The last message was still the one he sent before boarding his flight.

[I’ll message you when I arrive.]

By her calculations, he should have landed in Beijing long ago.

Yet the chat remained silent for the past two hours.

The inexplicable disappointment in Sang Wan’s heart grew heavier.

Men… truly, they’d pull up their pants and act like strangers.

Tsk, tsk… no, they hadn’t even gotten to that point yet.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the messy thoughts.

Just then, Bai Wei’s call came through.

“Wanwan, are you up?” Bai Wei’s voice was as lively as ever.

“Eating now. What’s up, Sister Wei?”

“Good news!” Bai Wei’s tone carried excitement. “There’s an S-tier live variety show, Bloom, Youth!, inviting you as a special guest. It’s an outdoor reality show with massive popularity!”

Sang Wan frowned. She was familiar with Bloom, Youth!, it was indeed a hit.

“Sister Wei, the film crew might call me back anytime.”

“No worries, the show only films for a week. By then, Xiao Yan should be back. Besides, more screen time to maintain your popularity is nothing but good for you,” Bai Wei persuaded.

“And the production team hinted that Zhuo Fan is one of the male guests this season. They’re hoping to pair you two up as a CP.”

Zhuo Fan?

Sang Wan’s mind flashed to a face full of warmth and energy.

They had gotten along well while filming together, but the thought of Lu Tingzhou’s subtle hostility toward Xiao Yan a few days ago made her scalp tingle.

No matter how great Zhuo Fan was, he couldn’t compare to Lu Tingzhou’s place in her heart. If the jealousy flared up again, she’d have to coax him, after finally reeling him in.

“Sister Wei, let’s pass on this one,” Sang Wan rubbed her temples. “I promised my mentor I’d participate in this year’s ‘Dreamweaver Cup’ fashion design competition. I haven’t even finished the draft yet, my energy is really limited.”

Bai Wei sounded surprised. “That’s one of the top fashion design competitions in the country, with serious prestige. You’re really going for it?”

“I’ll do my best,” Sang Wan smiled faintly. “I don’t want to disappoint my mentor.”

“Alright, since you’ve decided, I’ll turn them down for you. Good luck with your design, little prodigy.”

“Thanks, Sister Wei.”

Though Sang Wan hadn’t pursued fashion design professionally in recent years, she hadn’t given it up either. Under the pseudonym JC, she frequently freelanced designs for various clothing brands.

She had built up some reputation, with over 300,000 followers on Weibo, and even an overseas account that regularly commissioned her work.

Designs not tied to company contracts, she released for free public use, earning her high popularity.

After hanging up, Sang Wan lost her appetite entirely.

She returned to her bedroom upstairs, spread out her paper, and gripped her pencil, yet couldn’t bring herself to make the first stroke.

In the past, once she started sketching, her mind would always settle into tranquility.

Many sleepless nights were spent with her sketchbook and designs keeping her company.

But today, she was in low spirits, devoid of inspiration.

Her mind was a tangled mess, she drew, erased, and redrew in frustration.

Sang Wan irritably tossed aside her pen and opened her laptop, flipping through her late mother’s design sketches.

Her mother had once been a fashion designer too, but after having her, she never published another piece.

The computer held many of her mother’s old designs, each brimming with creativity and ingenuity.

Sang Wan browsed through them one by one, hoping to draw inspiration.

When she came across a set labeled “Misty Rain of Jiangnan”, a series of Chinese-style women’s wear, her eyes suddenly lit up!

It was a collection of modernized qipaos, retaining the charm of traditional cheongsams while blending in contemporary fashion elements. Each piece was breathtakingly beautiful.

Sang Wan had always adored qipaos, their elegant, refined allure, subtly sensual, never failing to stir her heart.

She took a deep breath, and the stifling weight in her chest seemed to dissipate instantly.

This was it!

She would start with the qipao, infusing it with her own interpretation.

Just as she was lost in this quiet excitement, a soft knock sounded at her bedroom door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Miss Sang,” the voice of the housekeeper, Aunt Wu, called from outside, “someone is here to see you downstairs.”

Sang Wan was puzzled. Su Mo was busy with Bai Wei at the studio, and Qu You was occupied with her doctoral exams, who could it be?

Setting down her pen, she got up and headed downstairs.

The atmosphere in the living room was tense.

An elderly man, nearing seventy and dressed in a dark Tang suit, sat upright on the main sofa, his posture rigid.

He rolled two polished walnuts in his hand, his expression stern, exuding an intimidating aura without a word.

His slightly clouded yet still sharp eyes carried the decisive, battle-hardened air of someone who had weathered decades of storms, commanding and impossible to meet directly.