He Lost Control with Jealousy — What Happened to Being Untouchable? - Chapter 67

When Sang Wan woke up, she instinctively rolled over in bed, only to collide directly with a warm embrace.

She wasn’t used to having someone beside her yet and jerked her eyes open in surprise.

Lu Tingzhou was still asleep, his eyes lightly closed. Sensing her movement, he naturally pulled her closer into his arms.

“Why haven’t you left yet? Don’t you have work?”

She kicked her legs, and her knee accidentally brushed against something she shouldn’t have.

Her face flushed instantly. When she lifted the blanket and saw their state, she gasped sharply.

Last night had been far too wild. After rolling around in bed, the man still wasn’t satisfied and had stubbornly coaxed her into the bathroom. She had no memory of how she’d made it back out.

“Short is the night of spring’s delight, from now on the king rises not for morning court.”

Now I truly understand.

The man chuckled lowly, his voice still rough from sleep.

Sang Wan’s face burned as she tried to push him away, but her phone rang.

Glaring at him, she turned and grabbed her phone to answer.

“Hello?”

Her sweet, soft voice was like a feather brushing against Lu Tingzhou’s heart.

He leaned in, wrapping an arm around her waist, and pressed a kiss to the small red mole on her back.

“Mmm…”

The soft moan traveled clearly through the phone.

“Tingzhou?”

Sang Wan, already overheated, felt her soul leave her body at the sound of that voice.

It was like a bucket of icy water had been dumped over her head, extinguishing every bit of warmth in her body.

Lu Tingzhou smirked and slowly took the phone from her hand, clearly, he’d heard the voice on the other end too.

“Grandmother.”

His tone was steady, as if the man who had been fooling around in bed moments ago was just Sang Wan’s imagination.

But the scorching heat of his hand on her waist silently declared his presence.

Sang Wan stiffened, forgetting even to breathe.

Grandmother?

Lu Tingzhou’s grandmother?!

She felt like she’d been caught in bed.

No, it wasn’t just icy water. It was the frigid Arctic Ocean pouring over her, dousing every inch of warmth that had just ignited within her.

I’m done.

Those were the only two words left in her mind.

On the other end of the line, the old woman’s kind yet probing voice came through.

“Tingzhou, is there a girl with you?”

Lu Tingzhou chuckled softly, glancing at the petrified Sang Wan beside him, his eyes brimming with undisguised mischief.

“Yes.”

He actually admitted it!

“Wait…”

Sang Wan snapped back to reality, her peach-blossom eyes wide with panic.

Without thinking, she pressed her still-pink hand firmly over his mouth.

Don’t say it!

Please don’t say it!

Her eyes were full of pleading, like a deer cornered by a hunter.

Being caught by family right after getting together, how was she supposed to face anyone after this? The older generation was conservative, what would they think of her?

Lu Tingzhou raised an eyebrow, watching her flustered, fearful expression, and a hint of mischief stirred in his heart.

Far from being annoyed, he lowered his head and pressed a searing kiss to her trembling palm.

“Ah!”

Sang Wan recoiled as if electrocuted, yanking her hand back.

The damp heat on her palm burned like a brand, sending tremors through her heart.

Lu Tingzhou’s lips curved into a smirk before he leisurely replied into the phone, “My secretary. A female colleague. Is there something urgent you needed to call about at this hour?”

Seeing the girl beside him shrinking like a quail, Lu Tingzhou reached out and patted her head, as if soothing a pet.

Sang Wan slapped his hand away and pushed him aside.

The man’s lips curled into an even wider smile, his petting motion unrelenting.

From the other end of the phone came the relieved laughter of an elderly woman. “I thought you had someone by your side.”

“If I did, I’d definitely bring her to see you,” the man replied, staring at the turtle-like figure beside him, his lips quirking in amusement. “Grandma, what did you call about?”

The old woman on the phone suddenly remembered her purpose and hurriedly said, “Oh, right. Come back to Beijing this weekend. I have something important to tell you.”

“Alright,” Lu Tingzhou agreed without hesitation.

“Then it’s settled. Don’t you dare stand me up.”

“Mm, I’ll be there.”

After hanging up, the bedroom returned to silence.

Sang Wan was still reeling from the shock, unable to snap out of it for a long while.

She turned her head to look at the composed man beside her and couldn’t help but ask, “What important thing does your grandmother want to talk about? Why didn’t you even ask?”

Lu Tingzhou remained calm, as if the phone call had been nothing more than a trivial interruption.

He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingertips brushing lightly against her earlobe.

“We’ll find out when we get there,” he said, his tone even and unbothered. “What’s the point in asking?”

Sang Wan gazed into his unfathomably dark eyes and suddenly felt as though everything in this man’s world was under his control.

…

Saturday, Beijing.

The finals of the “Dreamweaver Cup” National Young Fashion Designers Competition officially commenced.

The air was thick with tension and anticipation as camera flashes crisscrossed the venue.

Sang Wan, wearing a mask, sat inconspicuously in the middle section of the audience, deliberately positioning herself behind her mentor to avoid drawing attention.

Her university mentor, Li Qingmeng, was a renowned professor of fashion design in the country.

In stark contrast to her low profile was Song Xinran, seated beside the judges in the front row.

As the former lead designer of Modo and a top contender for this competition, her entrance alone made her the center of attention.

Dressed in a haute couture champagne-colored gown, her makeup flawless and her demeanor elegant, she chatted gracefully with the judges beside her, exuding an unmistakable air of confidence and pride.

On stage, the host enthusiastically introduced the finalists’ works.

Five design sketches were projected one by one onto the massive screen at the center of the stage.

As the lights dimmed, all eyes converged there.

When the fourth design appeared, Sang Wan’s pupils constricted sharply.

Her breathing grew heavier.

On the screen was a wedding dress so breathtaking it stole the air from the room.

The gown, crafted from the finest satin, was adorned with countless tiny diamonds and pearls, hand-sewn into a dazzling galaxy that spiraled up from the waist and culminated at the heart.

Under the lights, the diamonds refracted starlike brilliance, ethereal and sacred.

In the bottom right corner of the sketch was the designer’s signature, Song, and the title of the piece: “Stardust.”

Sang Wan’s fingers dug deep into her palms.

This design, she knew it too well.

So, well that every detail, every curve, felt etched into her bones.

It was her own work from years ago, a masterpiece she had once proudly shared on her private Weibo account.

Later, out of selfishness, she set it to hidden less than an hour after posting it.

Because Stardust was designed for her future self.

It embodied all her teenage fantasies about love and marriage.

She didn’t know how Song Xinran had seen it, perhaps… was there really such an astonishing coincidence in the world?

Impossible.

Sang Wan immediately dismissed the thought.

Details could be altered, but creativity and soul were unique.

This blatant plagiarism was something she could never tolerate!

This wasn’t just simple theft, it was a trampling of her dreams!

“Wow, this Stardust is so beautiful! Looking at it makes me feel like getting married!”

“Yeah, it’s on par with that other piece, Daybreak. Choosing this year’s winner is going to be tough.”

The murmurs around her pulled Sang Wan back to reality.

The judges on stage had also begun a heated discussion. Clearly, they were struggling to decide the champion.

Professor Li Qingmeng, sitting in front of Sang Wan, turned to her assistant and whispered, “This Starlight and Daybreak, one is ethereal and dreamlike, full of beautiful symbolism; the other is rich with subtle, graceful Eastern charm. Both are top-tier. I don’t even know which one to vote for.”

Even her teacher thought so…

If Song Xinran had stolen and refined any of her other works, she wouldn’t have said anything. But not this one.

This was her private indulgence, though she couldn’t recall where the inspiration had come from.

All she knew was that seeing this piece filled her with an uncontrollable ache.

The voting results flashed on the big screen, Daybreak had lost by a single vote, securing second place.

Just as the host was about to announce the final results, just as Song Xinran’s face lit up with the smile of impending victory,

Sang Wan stood up.

“Wait a moment.”

In the hushed anticipation of the venue, her movement and voice were startlingly abrupt.

“Whoosh.”

Countless eyes turned toward her in unison.

Sang Wan raised her hand and slowly removed her face mask.

That strikingly beautiful face, instantly recognizable in the entertainment industry, was suddenly exposed to everyone’s gaze without warning.

“Gasp!”

The venue erupted instantly!

“It’s Sang Wan! Oh my god, why is she here?”

“Am I seeing things? It’s really her!”

Camera flashes went wild, shutters clicking incessantly.

Song Xinran’s smile froze completely. As she stared at Sang Wan, a flicker of barely detectable panic flashed in her eyes.

What is she doing here now? She reassured herself, she had covered her tracks thoroughly.

Ignoring the commotion around her, Sang Wan’s icy gaze locked onto the glamorous woman on stage.

She picked up the microphone beside her seat. Though her voice wasn’t loud, it carried clearly to every corner of the venue.

“Sorry for the interruption.”

Her tone remained soft and gentle, but her eyes were unwavering.

As Song Xinran, shielded by her assistant, passed by her, she paused slightly.

Turning her head, she curled her red lips into a victor’s smirk and whispered, just loud enough for the two of them to hear:

“What a shame… the original draft is locked away in a safe abroad.”

“Is it really locked away… or did you never have it at all?”

Song Xinran curved her lips into a smile. “Miss Sang, when you lose, you have to admit defeat. Your incessant chatter only makes me think you’re not a worthy competitor.”

As she spoke, she waved her phone toward the camera. “I took photos of my original drafts back then. Everyone can take a look.”

With that, an image appeared on her phone screen, the design sketch for “Stardust.”

Sang Wan stared at the image, avoiding the phone as she zoomed in, bit by bit, then further enlarged it.