296: Chapter 276 Childish

He could not just be "blocked" like this. At the very least, he could not appear completely defenseless.

Thus, amidst the expectant or amused gazes of everyone (especially Yeri), Jiang Zhiyu did not answer immediately.

Instead, he leisurely picked up the pink, enticing strawberry milkshake beside him, which was severely at odds with his image as a CEO.

He took a large sip through the straw. The cold, sweet liquid mixed with melted ice cream slid down his throat, seemingly washing away some of the tension and that hint of subtle annoyance from just a moment ago.

He set the cup down, leaving a few more faint rings on the side. Then, he looked up, his gaze once again becoming clear and focused, and his lips even curled into the faintest arc of a "negotiator" or "challenger."

Collecting his thoughts, Jiang Zhiyu was ready to begin his "counterattack."

This "game" regarding the filming location clearly would not end so easily.

Jiang Zhiyu's gaze remained calmly fixed on Bae Joo-hyun; he did not immediately deny or refute her, but instead first affirmed the core point she had grasped.

"The core keywords 'collapse' and 'daily life' mentioned by Irene xi," he began, his voice gentle, carrying a clear, articulate sense of presentation similar to Bae Joo-hyun's earlier, "are precisely the original intention behind my conception and design of this variety show. It is about condensing the real and interesting side of the Red Velvet team—the side that might contrast with their stage image—into the concept of 'collapse,' and the presentation of all this relies on the vehicle of 'daily life.'"

He first caught the conceptual ball thrown by Bae Joo-hyun, indicating that his original design intention aligned with her understanding, creating a foundation of consensus that "we have the same goal."

This made his subsequent pivot seem less like a confrontation and more like a deeper discussion based on shared goals.

Then, he shifted his tone, and the faint smile on his lips seemed to take on a deeper, almost analytical meaning.

"But..." he slightly drew out his tone, the word itself filled with the tension of a turn, "But, in the context of idol variety shows, is so-called 'daily life' truly equivalent to 'real life'?"

He did not wait for an answer, but continued his analysis in a tone that was almost cold, even possessing a touch of professional "cold-bloodedness":

"The content of idol group variety shows, at the end of the day, is essentially meant to satisfy the human collective's unique voyeuristic desire for the privacy of others (especially glamorous idols), as well as... the strange sense of satisfaction that arises from expecting to see a perfect image occasionally 'make a fool of itself' or 'collapse.'"

These words were like a precise scalpel, mercilessly slicing open the glamorous shell of the idol variety industry and pointing directly to the deepest logic of human nature driving it. It was cold, realistic, and even somewhat cruel, yet impossible to refute.

The atmosphere in the living room instantly became heavier. The relaxed or triumphant expressions on the faces of the Red Velvet members vanished, replaced by deep thought and a complex emotion after having the essence pointed out. Even Bae Joo-hyun's cold gaze flickered slightly.

Jiang Zhiyu did not stop; he threw out an even sharper question, his gaze sweeping over every member present:

"So, is it worth sacrificing real, precious personal privacy to exchange for this attention and so-called 'sense of reality'?" He paused, his tone carrying a certainty that required no answer. "I think everyone here, whether artist or company, would not be willing. After all, everyone knows very well what sasaeng fans are like and what kind of things they are capable of doing."

He mentioned "sasaeng fans," a group that all idols despise yet are helpless against, instantly raising the importance of "privacy protection" to a height that could not be ignored.

Having laid the groundwork, Jiang Zhiyu finally brought the topic back to the specific filming location. His tone returned to its previous professional calm, but his words carried more weight:

"So, why do I insist on proposing a change of filming location?"

He answered his own question, his gaze focusing once again on Bae Joo-hyun.

"It is not that TG Entertainment lacks the capability to cast a net around your dorms and maintain absolute privacy and security during filming." He clarified first that it was not a lack of ability.

"Rather," he emphasized, with a consideration for pragmatism and efficiency, "by comparison, choosing a neutral, rented venue that is completely under our control for filming has a higher cost-performance ratio."

He began to lay out the practical benefits:

"Whether it is the investment of manpower costs or the allocation of energy resources, both can be significantly optimized and reduced. We do not need to mobilize extra security personnel to guard against prying eyes that might pop up from every corner, we do not need to be distracted by potential interference from other residents in the dormitory building, and we do not need to be constrained in set design, lighting, or even task design because we have to be mindful that this is your private living space."

His argument had cleverly transitioned from the initial analysis of human nature and concerns about privacy to the more practical level of resource optimization and filming efficiency.

"The manpower and energy saved," Jiang Zhiyu concluded finally, his gaze sharp yet sincere, "can be more focused on the filming itself—designing more interesting 'collapse' segments, capturing more vivid 'daily' moments, and ensuring that what is ultimately presented to the audience is a high-quality work that is both exciting and entertaining, while protecting everyone's privacy and safety to the maximum extent."

He had completed a beautiful "counterattack." He did not directly negate Bae Joo-hyun's argument regarding "sense of daily life" and "familiarity with the environment," but instead placed it within a broader and more realistic framework for consideration—in the specific field of idol variety shows, the cost of "real daily life" could be an unbearable privacy risk, whereas choosing a controllable "simulated daily life" environment could instead free up more resources to focus on building the show's core appeal (the "collapse") and safeguarding the artists' rights.

He had elevated the choice from a simple opposition of "sense of reality vs. controllability" to a more complex comparison that better reflected a professional decision-making level: "limited sense of reality + high risk" vs. "optimized sense of reality + high controllability + resource concentration."

Now, the pressure was back on Red Velvet, especially team leader Bae Joo-hyun. What she needed to weigh was not just the show's effect, but also the safety and privacy of the team members, as well as the practical efficiency and potential risks of cooperating with the production side.

Jiang Zhiyu picked up the strawberry milkshake, took another small sip, and waited quietly. This "game" seemed to be shifting from a battle of concepts to a level that tested both sides' wisdom in weighing options and their sincerity in cooperation.

Jiang Zhiyu's articulate "counterattack," ranging from the underlying logic of human nature to practical resource allocation, was like a precise combination punch. It not only successfully elevated the depth and breadth of the topic by a dimension, but also invisibly shifted the pressure firmly back to Red Velvet.

Especially that final summary about "focusing the saved manpower and energy on the filming itself," which sounded reasonable and logical, even carrying a sense of sincerity like "I am doing all this for your own good, for the good of the show."

But as Bae Joo-hyun heard it, she only felt a subtle sense of being "calculated against" welling up in her heart.

Damn that Jiang Zhiyu!

She gritted her teeth inwardly. His appearance of being seemingly objective and rational, yet actually calculated at every step; those cold, analytical words that were impossible to refute; and that final choice where he bundled "privacy risk" and "work efficiency" together... he was clearly doing it on purpose!

He was intentionally "suppressing" her with a broader perspective and more realistic considerations after she had clearly stated the team's opinion; intentionally "hedging" with heavy and practical topics like "sasaeng fans" and "waste of resources" when she mentioned the importance of "sense of daily life" and "familiar environment"; intentionally putting on an air of "I have considered things more thoroughly, more professionally, and more thoughtfully for you than you have!"

Bae Joo-hyun looked up, her cold gaze no longer able to conceal the wisps of annoyance. This annoyance did not stem from his viewpoints themselves (to some extent, she even admitted that what he said made sense), but from his condescending posture—seemingly tolerant but actually controlling everything—and... the faint sense of superiority in his words, as if he were saying, "You only saw the surface, while I saw the essence!"

Her gaze shot straight at Jiang Zhiyu, attempting to convey her dissatisfaction and resistance through her eyes.

And Jiang Zhiyu, sitting opposite her, seemed to keenly capture that rare, almost tangible flicker of annoyance in her eyes.

He did not avoid it; instead, meeting her gaze, he raised an eyebrow at her, extremely subtly, almost imperceptibly.

That movement was too fast, too subtle; aside from Bae Joo-hyun, who was staring fixedly at him, probably even Yeri, who was best at reading the room, failed to notice it.

But that one raised eyebrow, in Bae Joo-hyun's eyes, was like the clearest signal light!

It was a provocation!

He was provoking her! With his set of logically tight arguments, with his calm and unruffled expression, and with this tiny, almost imperceptible, yet highly provocative little movement!

The fire in Bae Joo-hyun's heart flared up even higher.

Her fingers, resting on her knees, clenched involuntarily; her neatly trimmed nails nearly dug into the soft fabric of her palms.

The mask of calm she had maintained as a leader and professional artist cracked slightly at this moment; the smile on her face was almost impossible to hold, her lips pressed tightly together, and her jawline tightened, becoming even more defined.

She could even feel the temperature of her cheeks rising—not from shyness, but purely from the rush of blood brought on by being provoked.

"Calm down, Bae Joo-hyun," she told herself fiercely in her heart, almost like a command. "You must calm down."

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to unclench her fingers and adjust her slightly rapid breathing.

Although her gaze remained cold and clear, she forcibly suppressed some of the annoyance, transforming it into a sharper, more focused state of "battle readiness."

She couldn't let him lead her by the nose or spin around within his logical framework.

He had played the cards of "privacy risks" and "resource efficiency," so she had to find the loopholes in his seemingly perfect argument or propose a new, equally compelling solution that better balanced the needs of both sides.

Counterattack.

She had to strike back hard at this arrogant man who thought he controlled everything.

She couldn't let the younger members—especially Yeri, whose smug and provocative gaze had just been "suppressed" by Jiang Zhiyu—think that their leader had been easily "persuaded" or "suppressed" by him.

She had to defend the group's wishes and prove that, in terms of professional considerations, Red Velvet also had its own persistence and wisdom.

Bae Joo-hyun lifted her head again, the coldness in her eyes replaced by a more composed and sharper glint.

She no longer looked at that annoying strawberry milkshake of Jiang Zhiyu's, nor at the expectant gazes of Yeri and the others, but instead fixed her eyes back on Jiang Zhiyu, ready to speak.

This time, her voice might be calmer than before, but the strength and determination it contained would not be a whit less than just a moment ago.

"Jiang Zhiyu, do you think you've already won?" she thought. "We'll see about that."

Bae Joo-hyun's brain was whirring at high speed, searching for a weapon to counterattack.

TG Entertainment... what was their public slogan again? That's right! "People-oriented, creativity first."

Her eyes brightened, and she prepared to seize upon this point to launch her offensive—since you at TG Entertainment tout being "people-oriented," shouldn't you be more respectful of Red Velvet's choices as "people" and a "team" when it comes to issues involving the artists' core wishes and the group's feelings (the "sense of daily life" and the "natural performance brought by a familiar environment")?

Instead of blindly weighing things with cold "cost-effectiveness" and "risk control"?

Isn't what you just said, Jiang Zhiyu, contrary to your company's slogan?

Does this mean you don't truly support the judgments we make based on the program's core concepts and our own state?

The logical chain had clearly formed in her mind, and the words of her counterattack were about to spill out.

However, just as her red lips parted and before the first syllable could be fully uttered—Jiang Zhiyu, sitting opposite her, suddenly stood up without warning.

His movement was smooth and natural, as if he just needed to stretch after sitting for a long time, but at this tense moment, on the verge of a new round of confrontation, this act of standing up carried an extremely abrupt, rhythm-breaking implication.

Then, under the slightly astonished gazes of everyone (especially Bae Joo-hyun), a gentle smile, even one carrying a hint of "I understand," appeared on Jiang Zhiyu's face, and he said in an almost relaxed tone: "Alright."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the members of Red Velvet before finally landing on the face of Bae Joo-hyun, whose expression had frozen instantly.

His tone was candid: "It seems... I overthought things."

"Everything will proceed according to the original plan—let's film at your dormitory."

Hit and run!

He didn't even give Bae Joo-hyun the chance to throw out that "people-oriented" question!

He didn't even wait for any of the counterarguments she had organized!

Just at the moment she was about to reveal her trump card, he had directly, cleanly, and even somewhat "casually"... conceded?

Or rather, given up?

Just like that... he agreed?

Bae Joo-hyun: "...?!"

Her mouth remained open in the posture of preparing to speak, but not a single word could come out.

That breath, which had already reached her throat—a mixture of carefully crafted rebuttal and simmering anger—was forcibly blocked and stuck in her chest, unable to go up or down; it nearly suffocated her!

She felt like a boxer who had gathered all her strength to deliver a thunderous blow, only for her opponent to lightly step back at the very moment the fist was about to land, smiling and saying, "You win," leaving her to stumble from the excess force, her chest aching with stifling frustration.

Frustration!

Unprecedented frustration!

She had clearly prepared a sharp counterattack, clearly felt she had grasped the logical loopholes or conceptual contradictions of the other party, clearly could have turned the tables, and even made this always composed man speechless for once... but he didn't take the bait!

He just conceded?!

What was this?!

Was he toying with her?!

Bae Joo-hyun's delicate face, usually cold and self-contained, could no longer hide the turmoil inside.

Her cheeks were slightly flushed from the stifled anger and the words she hadn't let out, her lips pressed tight, her eyes a mix of shock, annoyance, resentment, and an absurd feeling of "I prepared for so long and this is what you show me?"

She was furious, dying to retort and question him, but because the other party had already "agreed" to their plan, she had lost the justification to continue the "battle."

That expression of stifled frustration—wanting to lash out but unable to, forced to suppress the fire—was clearly caught by the eyes of Jiang Zhiyu, who was looking down and pretending to organize his tablet while actually observing her from the corner of his eye.

The corners of Jiang Zhiyu's mouth curled up imperceptibly, and a glimmer of success and extreme pleasure flashed in his eyes.

"Little hedgehog, are you angry? Feeling frustrated?"

He chuckled inwardly. "Hmph, hmph, hmph... that's what you get for analyzing things so calmly and rationally just now, and for looking at me with that 'let me explain it to you' gaze."

"Now, do you know what it feels like to be 'played'?"

Jiang Zhiyu's mood became infinitely pleasant at the moment he captured this rare, vivid, and un-idol-like expression of frustration on Bae Joo-hyun.

The slight annoyance from being "checkmated" just now, as well as the restlessness brought on by his racing heart when facing her, seemed to vanish into thin air at this moment.

He even felt that occasionally "teasing" this "Bae Hedgehog," who was always bristling with needles and overly calm, was actually quite interesting.

Thus, during the subsequent equipment installation and on-site setup, Jiang Zhiyu, as the lead PD and CEO, while still maintaining a professional and serious attitude, directing the staff on camera positioning, cable laying, and lighting adjustments, sounded significantly lighter than he had when discussing the filming location just before.

He would occasionally make harmless jokes with the TG Entertainment on-site director, and his tone when pointing out issues was less tense.

That sense of pleasure radiating from within, as if he had solved some difficult problem or discovered something interesting, was almost impossible to hide.

However... in stark contrast to Jiang Zhiyu's "pleasure" was Bae Joo-hyun, who stood to the side watching the staff busy in her dormitory.

She was not happy at all.

Not only was she not happy, but the stifling frustration in her chest, caused by Jiang Zhiyu's "hit-and-run" tactic, was still aching.

Watching his profile as he commanded with ease, even with a faint smile, she found it all the more grating.

This jerk... he definitely did it on purpose!

She was almost certain of it.

He had intentionally conceded just when she was ready to counterattack, just to see her looking this frustrated and helpless!

Just to get revenge for her "checkmating" him earlier!

Childish! Boring! Petty!

Bae Joo-hyun mentally slapped a string of negative labels on Jiang Zhiyu.

But at the same time, a deeper thought, one she didn't even want to admit to herself, quietly emerged: Why... did his childish "revenge" make her feel... more bothered, more... unsettled than the calm, professional confrontation from before?

She shook her head, casting this ridiculous thought aside, and forced herself to focus on the on-site setup to ensure it wouldn't affect the dormitory layout or the members' private areas.

However, her peripheral vision kept uncontrollably glancing at the man in the suit, "gesturing" around her living room, and looking in such a good mood.

So annoying.

Bae Joo-hyun secretly bit her lower lip, feeling that this day of filming preparation was destined to be anything but peaceful.