21: Chapter 21 Why Torture Me? I Want the Title

the kings card game spiraled out of control after the first time it ended. It wasn't the kind of 'out of control' where everyone thought it was boring and stopped playing; it was the kind where everyone thought it was so fun they couldn't stop. Jiang Zhiyu had originally thought this was just a little game to pass the time or play occasionally. He had underestimated the three trainees' desire for the power to 'rightfully command others to do anything.'

The next day, NingNing used a new Kings Card to order Kim Minjeong to sing the entire song 'Into The Unknown' in the practice room using only falsetto, without taking a breath. Kim Minjeong's face turned red halfway through, looking like a balloon blown up too full, but she didn't dare stop because NingNing was holding that card with her name written on it. She finished the whole song, and the final line 'Into the unknown' came out as a cracked-voice scream. NingNing rolled on the floor laughing, while Karina silently recorded it with her phone, saying, 'This is dark history; it must be saved.' Kim Minjeong chased her for several laps, but Karina had already sent the video to the group chat and set it to 'save permanently.'

On the third day, Kim Minjeong won. She ordered Karina to wear the black hooded sweatshirt Jiang Zhiyu had brought—hood up, zipper pulled to the very top, sunglasses and mask on—to go to the company entrance and pick up a delivery. Karina's legs started shaking the moment she stepped out of the building, not out of fear, but because she saw a few unfamiliar boys smoking at the entrance. They glanced at her, then glanced again, and then one of them said, 'Is this person a robber?' Karina didn't say a word, grabbed the delivery, and ran. When she ran back to the practice room, her face was red to the roots of her ears, but the corners of her mouth were smiling—not a bitter smile of 'I've been pranked,' but a smile of 'this is too thrilling,' carrying a bit of excitement.

On the fourth day, Karina used a Kings Card to order NingNing and Jiang Zhiyu to dance a girl group dance together. NingNing danced well because although she was the main vocal and dancing wasn't her forte, she could do it. Jiang Zhiyu danced even better, so well that NingNing stopped halfway through to stare at him, her mouth wide enough to fit an egg. 'Teacher, how do you know girl group dances?!' 'I learned by watching,' Jiang Zhiyu said. His movements were precise, not the 'I'm just swaying a bit' kind of precise, but the 'I know what the next move is, what the angle should be, and how much force to use' kind of precise. NingNing was silent for a moment and then said something that made Kim Minjeong laugh for ten minutes—'Teacher, you should debut. I'll be your fan.'

By the fifth day of playing the game, Jiang Zhiyu realized he was no longer the one setting the rules. They were more invested than him, crazier than him, and better at coming up with those 'makes you want to die but you can't' punishments. He sat on the practice room floor, watching Kim Minjeong use a Kings Card to order NingNing to do a plank, adding one minute for every three minutes she couldn't hold it. NingNing's arms were shaking by the second minute, but she gritted her teeth and didn't make a sound, her eyes fixed on the ground as if she were competing with the floor. Kim Minjeong stood by with her phone timing it, her expression as serious as if she were handling a matter of national security.

Jiang Zhiyu leaned against the wall, holding a strawberry milk tea in his hand, watching them fool around with a quiet, soundless curve at the corner of his mouth. He thought that perhaps this was the most relaxed moment he'd had since transmigrating to this world. Not when he was writing songs—when writing, his brain operated at high speed, every note, every chord, and every vocal run being disassembled, reassembled, and repeatedly polished in his mind. Not when he was making plans—when planning, he was racing against time, squeezing every minute for all it was worth, even thinking about 'what photos to post tomorrow' while sleeping. Not when negotiating contracts—when negotiating, he was playing a game of wits, every word carefully weighed, every expression precisely controlled for fear of showing a weakness. It was now. Watching them mess around, watching them laugh, watching them give their all for a tiny playing card, wailing because they lost, and cheering because they won. In these moments, he didn't need to think about anything. He just needed to sit here and watch.

Kim Taeyeon's message came on the fifth night. 'Zhiyu-ah, what have you been busy with lately?' Jiang Zhiyu looked at the message, thought for a bit, and replied—'Playing a game.' 'What game?' 'the kings card.' 'What is the kings card?' Jiang Zhiyu spent two minutes explaining the rules. After Taeyeon finished reading, she was silent for a long time before sending one—'You really are a devil.' Jiang Zhiyu didn't deny it. Taeyeon sent another—'Bring it along next time we eat to play.' Jiang Zhiyu looked at the message, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. He replied—'Okay.'

The gathering was set for two days later. The location was chosen by Im Yoona, a Korean beef restaurant hidden in an alley. The storefront wasn't large, but the meat quality was said to be excellent; the owner raised the cattle himself, and it took no more than twenty-four hours from slaughter to table. Jiang Zhiyu arrived half an hour early, holding that deck of cards and several blank cards with the word 'King' already written on them—he had prepared them in advance because he knew that once Im Yoona learned the rules, she would demand to play immediately and for several rounds.

Kim Taeyeon was the second to arrive. She was wearing a black hoodie, hood down, hair tied in a low ponytail, no makeup, and wearing round-framed glasses. When she entered and saw the cards in Jiang Zhiyu's hand, the corner of her mouth twitched slightly. 'You actually brought them.' 'Of course. Since Noona said she wanted to play, how could I not bring them?' Taeyeon sat down across from him, took a sip from the water glass on the table, and didn't speak. But the curve of her mouth was a bit larger than before.

Im Yoona was the last to arrive. When she pushed the door open, she brought a gust of wind with her, her scarf fluttering behind her like a flag. Her face wore that standard, sweet, flawless smile, but her eyes—her eyes were smiling, not the 'I'm so happy to see you' kind of smile, but the 'I know you guys are going to let me play a very fun game' kind of smile.

'Jiang Zhiyu!' She slapped the table as soon as she sat down. 'What was that game you mentioned called?' 'the kings card.' Jiang Zhiyu placed the deck on the table and pushed it toward her. 'The rules are very simple.' He explained the rules again. After Im Yoona finished listening, her whole demeanor changed. It wasn't a change from 'white to red,' but a change from 'mild to excited.' Her eyes lit up, as bright as two light bulbs being switched on. Her mouth curled into a grin—not that standard, sweet, flawless smile, but a 'you guys are dead' kind of smile, a bit wicked, like a child seeing their favorite toy. Her fingers tapped lightly on the table with a fast rhythm, like playing a miniature drum kit in her head.

'In other words—' Her voice dropped low, as if sharing a secret with Jiang Zhiyu that others shouldn't hear, 'as long as I win, I can make you do anything?' 'Anything,' Jiang Zhiyu said. 'No going back on it?' 'No going back.' 'No refusing?' 'No refusing.' Im Yoona's smile grew even wider. So wide that two rows of neat teeth were revealed, so wide that her eyes narrowed into slits, and so wide that two deep dimples appeared on her cheeks. She turned to look at Kim Taeyeon. Taeyeon picked up her water glass and took another sip, her expression unchanged. 'Unnie, aren't you excited?' Yoona asked. Taeyeon put down the glass, glanced at Jiang Zhiyu, then at Im Yoona, and then said something that made them both fall silent—'I understand the rules. But have you two considered one problem?' Yoona and Jiang Zhiyu looked at her at the same time. 'Who invented this game?' Taeyeon's gaze landed on Jiang Zhiyu. Jiang Zhiyu looked at her and didn't speak. 'Since you invented the game, you must have played it many times. You must know how to win. You definitely—' Taeyeon paused, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly, 'came prepared.'

Im Yoona's smile froze for a moment. She turned to look at Jiang Zhiyu, her gaze shifting from 'I'm going to win' to 'what else are you hiding from me.' Jiang Zhiyu took a sip of his milk tea, his expression as calm as if nothing had happened. 'Noona, your analysis is very correct. But you forgot one thing.' Taeyeon raised an eyebrow. 'What thing?' 'This game isn't won by analysis. It's won by—luck.' He emphasized the word 'luck' heavily. Taeyeon looked at him and was silent for a moment. Then she laughed. Not a polite, social smile, nor the kind of smile from being amused with the corners of the mouth slightly upturned, but a 'fine, you win' kind of laugh, carrying a bit of helplessness and a bit of admiration.

Im Yoona's gaze moved back and forth between Jiang Zhiyu and Kim Taeyeon. Seeing the tacit understanding between the two that didn't require many words, a voice in her heart said—these two are really a good match. Not as 'lovers,' but as 'opponents.' A match for each other, like a great general meeting a brilliant talent. One setting the trap, one breaking it. She was caught in the middle like a spectator watching two masters play chess, both excited and nervous.

'First round, what are we playing?' Im Yoona rubbed her hands together. 'A Staring Contest,' Jiang Zhiyu said. 'To see who can keep their eyes open the longest. No blinking, no closing your eyes, no wearing colored contacts—Noona, are you wearing any?' 'No.' 'Good. Anyone who blinks, closes their eyes, wears contacts, or looks away first counts as a loser. The last person still staring wins.'

Im Yoona and Kim Taeyeon looked at each other. Both saw the same thing in each other's eyes—competitiveness. Not 'I want to win,' but 'I cannot lose.'

'Three, two, one—start.'

The three of them opened their eyes wide at the same time. Jiang Zhiyu's eyes were already large; when opened wide, they looked like two black glass beads reflecting the ceiling lights. Kim Taeyeon's eyes weren't large, but they were very spirited, like two polished black stones with smooth surfaces and high hardness. Im Yoona's eyes were the largest of the three, so large she felt like her eye sockets could barely contain them.

In the first minute, no one blinked. Im Yoona's face started to turn red, not out of shyness, but because her eyes were starting to ache, and her tear glands were desperately secreting fluid, trying to use tears to prop up the eyelids that wanted to close. She cheered herself on in her head—can't blink, can't blink, Yoona, you can do this. Kim Taeyeon's expression didn't change at all. Her eyes were still the same, not large but very steady, like two nails driven into a wall, unmoved by wind or rain. Jiang Zhiyu's expression also didn't change, but his eyes—his eyes were looking at Kim Taeyeon.

In the second minute, Im Yoona blinked. It wasn't intentional; it was physiological. Her eyes were too dry, so dry that small wrinkles appeared on the surface of the cornea. Her brain issued the 'must blink' command, and her body could not disobey. The moment she closed her eyes, she let out a low groan, like a wounded small animal. '...I lost.' She rubbed her eyes with her hands, tears seeping through her fingers, but the corners of her mouth were smiling—not the bitter smile of 'I lost,' but a schadenfreude smile of 'let's see which of you can win.'

Now only two people were left: Kim Taeyeon and Jiang Zhiyu. Their eyes met. Taeyeon's eyes were still the same, not large but very steady. Jiang Zhiyu's eyes were also the same, large and very steady. Their gazes met in the air; there were no sparks, no collision, just a quiet stare, as if confirming with each other—do you really want to win, or do you just not want to lose. Jiang Zhiyu looked into Taeyeon's eyes, those determined, unyielding eyes that were like nails driven into a wall. He thought of another pair of eyes. They were also like this, not large but very spirited. Also like this, determined, unyielding, as if saying 'I don't need your sympathy, I only need your help.' Baek Ji-xin. In the ASB practice room, she had sat before him, hands folded on her knees, back straight, looking directly at him. 'Can you help me?' she asked. There was no pleading in her eyes, no testing, only a simple, direct trust, like 'I know you can, so will you help or not.' That trust was too heavy, so heavy he didn't dare fail it. Later, he did help. He helped her secure resources, helped her plan her route, helped her find a way to survive in that cutthroat industry. She succeeded. she stood on the stage, seen by countless people, loved by countless people. She smiled beautifully, her eyes curving into crescents, the upward curve of her mouth just right. But she didn't know what he was thinking while watching her from below the stage. He was thinking—you don't need me anymore.

Jiang Zhiyu's pupils contracted sharply. Not because he was startled by something, but because he was struck by a memory. It felt as if someone had fired a shot into his chest—not a bullet, but a needle, very thin and sharp. It barely felt like anything when it went in, but it went so deep it couldn't be pulled out. His eyes felt sore, not because he wanted to cry, but physiologically—when the pupils contract, the orbicularis oculi muscle involuntarily contracts, the eyelids droop, and the eyes want to close. He blinked.

Kim Taeyeon won. She didn't immediately cheer, slap the table, or say 'I won.' She first rubbed her eyes, tears seeping from the corners, which she gently wiped away with the pad of her index finger. Then, a 'hing~' sound came from her throat. Not a 'humph,' but a 'hing.' Nasal, rising, the end note slightly trembling, like a child showing off their victory. 'Hing~' Taeyeon's eyes were still red, tears still swirling in her eyes, but the corners of her mouth were smiling. It wasn't the smugness of 'I won,' but the kind of surprise smile of 'I didn't think I'd win but I did,' like finding exactly what you wanted when opening a gift.

Im Yoona watched from the side, her mouth forming an 'O' shape. 'Unnie, your competitiveness is too strong.' 'It's not competitiveness,' Taeyeon said, 'I just didn't want to lose to this person.' She glanced at Jiang Zhiyu. Jiang Zhiyu leaned back in his chair, still holding that cup of milk tea, his expression as calm as if nothing had happened. But his eyes—his eyes were not calm. Taeyeon noticed his pupils were a bit larger than before, not from the light, but propped open by something. She didn't know what it was, but she knew that when he was looking at her, he wasn't looking at her.

[part:gemini-3.1-flash-lite]

"Jiang Zhiyu." She called to him.

"Hm."

"What were you thinking about just now?"

Jiang Zhiyu looked at her, silent for a second.

"Thinking about someone."

"Who?"

"You don't know them."

Kim Taeyeon didn't ask again.

She picked up her glass and took a sip of water; the water was cold, and the chill spread from her throat to her chest.

She set the glass down, picked up the deck of cards on the table, and shuffled them three times.

Her technique wasn't as flashy as Jiang Zhiyu's, but it was steady; each card was stacked neatly, not a single one out of place.

"Again," she said.

"What are we playing this time?" Im Yoona asked.

Kim Taeyeon thought for a moment. "Arm wrestling."

Im Yoona glanced at Kim Taeyeon's thin arm, then at Jiang Zhiyu's forearm, which was visibly thicker than hers, and remained silent for a moment.

"Unnie, are you sure?"

"Sure."

Kim Taeyeon rolled up her sleeve, revealing her forearm.

Her arm was very thin, with a prominent wrist bone, and blue veins were faintly visible beneath the skin.

She braced her elbow on the table, opened her palm, and straightened her fingers, like an open fan.

Jiang Zhiyu looked at her thin arm with its protruding wrist bone and visible veins, and suddenly felt that she was truly small.

Not small in age, but small in stature.

Small frame, narrow shoulders, slender waist; she looked like a plant potted in a container, with developed roots but a delicate stem.

Yet the energy contained within her body was immense.

That kind of energy wasn't the strength of muscle, but the strength of will.

She could stand in the recording studio all day just to get a single note right.

She could sing and dance on stage for two hours, and still wave to fans with a smile afterward.

When attacked by the entire internet, she could hide in the dorm by herself, then appear in front of the camera the next day as usual, her smile identical to any other day.

Her body was small, but her will was vast.

Vast enough to contain all malice, vast enough to bear all burdens, vast enough to make people forget that she, too, needed to be protected.

"Three, two, one—start."

Kim Taeyeon's arm didn't budge.

It wasn't because Jiang Zhiyu wasn't using strength, but because he was controlling his force.

He used just enough force to make her feel pressure, but not enough to overpower her.

Kim Taeyeon felt it.

Her brow furrowed, not in anger, but in focus.

She was exerting force, from her shoulder to her arm, to her wrist, to her fingers; every single muscle was engaged.

Her face went from white to pink, and from pink to red.

Her lips were pressed into a line, her teeth clenched tight.

"Jiang Zhiyu." She called his name.

"Hm."

"You are letting me win."

Jiang Zhiyu looked at her. "No."

"You are letting me win. I can feel it. Your strength is much greater than mine, but the force you're using is exactly the same as mine. You are letting me win."

Jiang Zhiyu was silent for a moment.

Then he applied force.

Not the sudden, violent kind of force meant to slam her arm onto the table, but a slow, even force, like the rising tide.

Kim Taeyeon's arm began to tip downward, an inch, an inch, and another inch.

Her face was even redder, not from shyness, but from exertion.

Her teeth were clenched tighter, her lips bitten pale.

The back of her hand was less than ten centimeters from the table.

She had lost.

But she didn't let go.

She was still pushing, still holding on, still making a final, futile, but unyielding resistance.

Jiang Zhiyu watched her, watching that face flushed red from exertion, watching those eyes wide with focus, watching that jawline trembling slightly from clenching too hard.

He suddenly felt that she was truly beautiful.

Not the beauty of "exquisite features," not the beauty of "pale skin," but the beauty of "when she is giving it her all."

That kind of beauty wasn't captured by a camera; it grew from within her.

It didn't need light, didn't need angles, didn't need filters.

She was there, she was pushing, and she was beautiful.

He released his force.

Not a sudden release, but a slow, imperceptible one, like receding water.

Kim Taeyeon's arm slowly lifted from ten centimeters above the table.

An inch, an inch, and another inch.

She didn't know he had released his strength; she thought she had pushed it back up herself.

The corners of her mouth began to lift, her eyes began to brighten, and she began to brew that "hing～" in her throat.

Jiang Zhiyu watched the smile about to bloom on her lips and said in his heart—you won.

It wasn't "I let you win," but "I wanted you to win."

There was a river between the two; on this side of the river was "I lost," and on that side of the river was "You won."

He was on this side, she was on that side.

He didn't want to cross over, and she didn't need to come over.

Kim Taeyeon's arm was finally upright.

She had won.

She let go, leaned back in her chair, and panted heavily.

Her face was as red as a ripe tomato, a thin layer of sweat on her forehead, a few loose strands of hair stuck to her temples.

Her eyes were as bright as two stars, her lips slightly parted, revealing that "hing～" she had been holding in for so long.

The sound was louder than before, longer than before, and more triumphant than before.

Jiang Zhiyu looked at her, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

He didn't say "You won," didn't say "Congratulations," didn't say anything at all.

He just looked at her and smiled.

That smile was light, faint, like a breeze blowing across the water, rippling out in a circle, then returning to stillness.

Im Yoona sat to the side, watching these two, and suddenly felt that her presence was a bit redundant.

Not the redundancy of "they don't need me," but the redundancy of "the conversation between them doesn't need translation."

She understood every word they said, but when put together, she didn't know what they were talking about.

It wasn't because she was slow; it was because they weren't speaking Korean, weren't speaking Chinese, weren't speaking any language she had learned in school or heard at the company.

They were speaking a language that "only Kim Taeyeon and Jiang Zhiyu could understand."

That kind of language didn't need vocabulary, didn't need grammar, didn't need pronunciation.

A glance, an expression, a tiny gesture, was enough.

Im Yoona cleared her throat. "Um, the kings card, shouldn't it be given to Unnie?"

Jiang Zhiyu pulled the blank card, already inscribed with the characters " Your Majesty" (The King), from his pocket, placed it on the table, and pushed it in front of Kim Taeyeon.

Kim Taeyeon picked up a pen and wrote three names on the card.

Jiang Zhiyu. Im Yoona. Jiang Zhiyu.

She wrote it twice. Because the rule was—the loser's name had to be written on it.

Jiang Zhiyu was a loser, and Im Yoona was also a loser.

She wrote Jiang Zhiyu's name, and then, below his name, wrote it again.

Two "Jiang Zhiyu"s, side by side, written neatly on the card.

Im Yoona leaned over to take a look. "Unnie, you wrote his name twice."

"Because he lost twice. He lost the Staring Contest once, and he lost the arm wrestling once."

"So you're going to use his name to take up two spots?"

"Yes."

Im Yoona was silent for a moment. Then she smiled. "Unnie, you're really something."

Kim Taeyeon didn't speak; she capped the pen, held the card up, and looked at it against the light.

The ink wasn't dry yet, reflecting a faint luster under the light.

Her name was written in the bottom left corner—"Kim Taeyeon," three characters, written very small, very restrained, as if afraid of taking up too much space.

"Jiang Zhiyu" was written twice, each time written very large, the strokes expansive, as if trying to fill up all the empty space on the card.

Jiang Zhiyu looked at the card, watched his name written twice, and the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.

Not a smile, but a confirmation of "Alright, you win."

Kim Taeyeon carefully put the card into her pocket.

She didn't just stuff it in; she placed it in the chest pocket of her hoodie, zipped it up, and even pressed it with her hand to make sure it wouldn't fall out.

"Tonight," she said, "you both must listen to me well."

Her tone was calm, so calm it was as if she were saying "What are we eating tonight?"

But the curve of her mouth wasn't calm.

That curve was saying—I've been waiting for this moment for a long time.

Im Yoona looked at her, and a voice in her heart said—Unnie has changed.

Not "changed for the worse," but "grown stronger."

She wouldn't have been like this before.

She used to be the kind of person who would say "You let me win" even when she won, the kind of person who "would take care of the loser's feelings even when she clearly won," the kind of person who "felt more embarrassed winning than losing."

But today, she didn't.

She had won, she was happy, and she let everyone know she was happy.

This frankness of "not hiding or holding back" made Im Yoona feel she was even more beautiful.

Not the beauty of "exquisite features," but the beauty of "she is being herself."

No need for humility, no need for politeness, no need for "I'm actually not that great."

She had won, and she had won.

Kim Taeyeon held up the the kings card and waved it in front of the two of them.

"First, Im Yoona, you cannot drink anything iced today. Your period is coming soon, and drinking iced things isn't good for your health."

Im Yoona's mouth opened, closed, then opened again.

She wanted to say "How did you know my period is coming soon?" but she didn't say it.

Because when Kim Taeyeon said this, her tone wasn't one of "command," but one of "care."

The the kings card in her hand wasn't a weapon; it was a prop.

She didn't need to use the card to command Im Yoona; she just wanted to use this method to make Im Yoona listen.

Im Yoona was silent for a moment, then pushed the iced Americano in front of her to the side. "...Got it."

Kim Taeyeon turned her head to look at Jiang Zhiyu. "Second, Jiang Zhiyu, starting today, for one week, you are not allowed to drink milk tea."

Jiang Zhiyu's smile froze.

Not the kind of freezing that "slowly fades away," but the kind that is "suddenly frozen solid."

The corners of his mouth still held that curve from before, but his eyes had changed—from "I'm smiling" to "You're joking, right."

"Noona."

"Hm."

"This order is too cruel."

"The the kings card's orders cannot be refused."

Kim Taeyeon's tone was still that calm, so calm it was as if she were saying "The weather is nice today."

But her eyes were smiling, not with the triumph of "I won," but with the concern of "I've wanted to do this for a long time," tinged with a bit of "let's see if you dare to drink that much sugar again."

Jiang Zhiyu looked at her, silent for a long time.

Then he placed the unfinished strawberry milk tea in his hand onto the table, slowly, reluctantly, as if saying goodbye to an old friend.

"...Okay." His voice was very quiet, so quiet it was as if he were talking to himself.

Kim Taeyeon put the the kings card into her pocket, zipped it up, and patted it. "Alright, let's order. I'm hungry."

She picked up the menu, opened the first page, looked at the Korean beef on it, and the corners of her mouth lifted slightly. "Today, it's my treat."

Im Yoona looked at her, looked at that quiet, silent curve at the corner of her mouth, and a voice in her heart said—Unnie seems different today.

Not that she has "changed," but that she has "come back."

Back to that Kim Taeyeon who didn't need to pretend to be strong, didn't need to take care of everyone's emotions, didn't need to put herself last.

Back to that Kim Taeyeon who would smile when winning, would "hing～" when losing, and would say what she wanted.

That Kim Taeyeon, she hadn't seen in a long time.

Im Yoona picked up the iced Americano that had been pushed to the side, took a look, and set it back down.

She picked up the water pitcher, poured herself a glass of warm water, held it with both hands, and drank slowly.

The water temperature was just right, not too hot, not too cold.

She didn't know how Kim Taeyeon knew her period was coming soon; she only remembered that at this time last month, she was in the practice room in so much pain she couldn't straighten her back, and it was Kim Taeyeon who tore off her own heating pad and stuck it on her stomach.

Jiang Zhiyu sat opposite, with no milk tea in front of him.

His hand habitually reached toward where the milk tea should have been on the table, and felt nothing.

His fingers tapped gently on the table twice, then pulled back and rested on his knees.

He looked at Kim Taeyeon; Kim Taeyeon was looking at the menu, her brow slightly furrowed, comparing the price and cuts of two types of Korean beef.

Her profile was soft under the light, like an oil painting washed by water.

He thought, not drinking milk tea for a week shouldn't kill him.

But he might miss it a lot.

Not missing the sweetness of the milk tea, but missing the feeling of "I am alive" when holding the milk tea.

That feeling wasn't given by the milk tea; it was something he had found himself in this strange world.

Kim Taeyeon looked up and looked at Jiang Zhiyu.

"Pork belly or beef tenderloin?"

"Beef tenderloin."

"Okay." She made a checkmark on the menu.

Then she glanced again at the empty spot in front of Jiang Zhiyu, where there had originally been a cup of milk tea.

"Hang in there," she said, "a week will pass quickly."

Jiang Zhiyu looked at her without speaking.

But the corners of his mouth held a tiny, almost invisible curve.

Not a smile, but a confirmation of "Alright."

——

Dongdong is a bit different today~

(17:40) Minjeong who doesn't reply to messages: [Recording is finished! It suddenly rained during the encore stage today. When I tilted my head to catch the raindrops, I remembered Oppa saying "Our Minjeong even looks like she's dancing a star dance when getting rained on"... As a result, I really spun in a circle in the rain~ (Sends a side-stage photo with water droplets hanging from her hair tips, yet she's smiling brilliantly)]

(17:43) Minjeong who doesn't reply to messages: [When I returned to the waiting room, I received Oppa's message "Don't catch a cold," and I immediately wrapped myself into a honey roll with a blanket! When the Manager handed me ginger tea and said "It's so nice to have someone worrying about you," I gulped it all down, warming up from my throat to my toes.]

(17:46) Minjeong who doesn't reply to messages: [The wet ginkgo leaf lining was carefully removed by me and tucked into my lyric book, with "The first autumn rain spent with Oppa" written next to it. Although the leaf is wrinkled, the water stain looks like a heart shape.]

(17:49) Minjeong who doesn't reply to messages: [When changing clothes, I discovered the ginkgo leaf inside my phone case was still stuck there obediently; after being rained on, its color is even brighter. Is it that everything related to Oppa shines brightly in time?]

(17:52) Minjeong who doesn't reply to messages: [We're cooking army stew in the dorm tonight, and I cut the sausages into little stars and threw them in~ Ningning said "Unnie, everything can be a star for you lately," and I nodded righteously: "Because a sun lives in my universe!"]

(17:55) Minjeong who doesn't reply to messages: [After the rain stopped, a rainbow appeared in the sky, and I stood on the balcony watching it for a long time. If a rainbow had a scent, it would definitely be honey citron tea with a little bit of cedar fragrance—which is exactly Oppa's scent.]