346: Chapter 325: I didn't take my Spring Festival holiday; I wonder if my company will let me go abroad for vacation~

Sunny retreated temporarily with her change of clothes and her unfinished "Operation Lemm Capture," returning to her own home. Im Yoona, meanwhile, dived headfirst into the filming of "the crab" at Ulsan Port, practically living on the set. The apartment, which had been bustling with activity due to fish-gutting lessons, sisterly gatherings, and drunken mornings, returned to the state its owner was most familiar with—spacious, quiet, and carrying a hint of the distinct chill unique to those living alone.

The evening light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long, slanted shadows across the living room floor. Kim Taeyeon, dressed in comfortable loungewear, sat cross-legged on the soft carpet with Zero in her arms—the fluffy little toy poodle seemed to sense its owner's utter boredom, lying obediently on her lap and occasionally looking up to lick her fingers.

With one hand, Kim Taeyeon absentmindedly stroked Zero's head, while the other held a tablet, casually scrolling through videos. Variety show clips, music videos, pet compilations... the images on the screen switched rapidly, but none of them seemed to truly capture her attention.

Her gaze drifted from time to time toward the phone placed nearby.

On the phone screen was the Girls Generation group chat interface, with messages constantly refreshing.

[Yoona]: I filmed a chase scene in an abandoned warehouse today, I ran so hard I almost stopped breathing! But the footage looks super cool!

[Yoona]: Acting opposite the senior playing the mob boss, his eyes were super fierce, but as soon as they called cut, he asked me with a smile if I was tired and handed me water.

[Yoona]: Even though we used special effects bullets for the gunfight scene, the sound and vibration felt so real! I felt like I was playing a high-end version of real-life CS!

[Yoona]: I feel like I'm the female version of Keanu Reeves! (Dog head emoji)

[Yoona]: The atmosphere on set is also great. Director... Jiang (she hesitated for a moment before typing Director), though strict, explains the scenes well, and everyone jokes around on set. It's not as serious as filming dramas used to be.

The members replied one after another.

[Yuri]: Wow! That sounds so exciting! Yoona fighting!

[Hyoyeon]: Our Yoona is a full-fledged action actress now! So cool!

[Sooyoung]: Stay safe! But I'm really looking forward to it!

[Tiffany]: Yoona is the best! Unnie is proud of you!

[Sunny]: Take more cool photos! (Wrong focus)

The screen was filled with encouragement, praise, and expectations for the maknae, carrying the unique, somewhat noisy but incredibly warm sisterhood of Girls Generation.

Watching this, the corners of Kim Taeyeon's mouth curled up unconsciously. She was happy for Yoona and proud of her. The maknae who once acted spoiled under their wings was now truly challenging a brand new, difficult yet charming path.

Only...

Seeing that name Yoona occasionally mentioned in the group (even though she switched to calling him "Director"), and seeing the other side of Jiang Zhiyu's working state revealed in those descriptions—strict, professional, yet able to keep the set atmosphere relaxed...

In Kim Taeyeon's heart, that slight irritability and... sense of loss, which she had deliberately ignored, quietly surfaced again.

She set down the tablet, pulled Zero a bit higher, and rested her chin on his furry head, her eyes fixed on the phone.

Her fingers, as if having a will of their own, skillfully unlocked the phone, swiped past several unrelated app icons, and finally hovered over that familiar profile picture she had set with a special nickname.

A pause for a few seconds.

Her fingertip descended.

Jiang Zhiyu's chat interface opened.

At the top of the screen, there were still those two lonely messages, the timestamp frozen on that morning over a month ago.

[Zhiyu]: Noona, open the door.

[Zhiyu]: Noona?

Below was a blank space.

Kim Taeyeon puffed out her cheeks, a habitual little action she did every time she opened this interface, carrying a hint of pettiness and grievance she hadn't even noticed herself.

As she had done many times over the past month, her finger hovered over the dialogue box, and many words flashed quickly through her mind.

[Are you busy?]

[Is Yoona doing okay on set?]

[I heard the movie filming is going smoothly?]

[The aromatherapy from last time... thanks, it works great.]

[I wrote a short melody recently, do you want to hear it?]

[...]

Type it out, then delete it.

Type it out, then delete it again.

She always felt something was wrong. Too deliberate? Too distant? Too much like trying to find something to say?

She sighed and was about to silently exit the interface as usual, throw her phone aside, and go back to staring at Zero—

Her eyes suddenly widened.

Right at the top of the chat interface, next to Jiang Zhiyu's name, the status bar that originally showed "Online" or "Offline" suddenly flickered and changed into a few clear words that seemed to carry a certain magic:

[The other party is typing...]

Kim Taeyeon's heart gave a heavy, unannounced thud!

"Wha... What?!"

She let out a soft cry subconsciously, and her arms tightened around Zero, causing the little dog to let out a dissatisfied "whimper."

She stared fixedly at that line of small words, her eyes not blinking once, as if afraid it would disappear if she did.

The other party is typing...

He's typing!

He's going to send a message!

It's been a month! A whole month without private contact! He's finally going to send a message!

In an instant, a complex wave of emotions surged in Kim Taeyeon's heart—nervousness, expectation, a sliver of secret excitement, and a subtle sense of grievance and apprehension from waiting too long.

What would he send?

Is it about work? About Yoona? Or... something else?

Her mind was a mess, her fingers tightened unconsciously, she held her breath, and her eyes stared unblinkingly at the screen, waiting for that new message to pop up.

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

The words "The other party is typing..." continued to display.

Five seconds, ten seconds...

It was still there.

Kim Taeyeon's heart beat faster and faster.

And then...

Twenty seconds passed.

That line of small words disappeared without warning.

Next to Jiang Zhiyu's name, it returned to a calm "Online" status.

No new message.

Not a single one.

Kim Taeyeon: "..."

She stared at the interface that had returned to its original state, stunned for several seconds.

The nervousness and expectation that had just surged up were like a popped balloon, deflating completely with a "pfft." Replacing them was an empty sense of loss and a hint of... anger at being played?

She didn't know whether to feel relieved (at least he didn't send it, otherwise she might not have known how to reply?) or disappointed (why didn't he send it!).

Ultimately, she let out a long breath, tinged with inexplicable anger.

But soon, this anger found a clear target and quickly transformed into an accusation against a certain "instigator."

Why!

Kim Taeyeon shouted silently in her heart, her finger poking Jiang Zhiyu's profile picture (a very simple landscape photo) on the screen as if for revenge.

Why haven't you sent me a message for so long?!

Even if you're a busy man! Filming a movie, doing variety shows, and managing a company! But! But you could at least... talk about Yoona's performance! Yoona is the visual of our Girls Generation! She's the female lead of your movie! Isn't it normal for you, as the director and president, to communicate the progress and share some fun stories with the lead actress's senior and teammate?!

Or...

Her thoughts drifted, her inner voice lowering, carrying a hint of awkwardness and expectation.

Or talk about... our upcoming musical collaboration... Didn't you say TG and SM have a strategic partnership and you would personally participate in my music project? Although the specifics aren't set, we could talk about ideas first, or... listen to the melody I just wrote?

Aigoo!

Kim Taeyeon buried her face in Zero's fluffy fur in annoyance, thinking gloomily:

No emotional intelligence at all! How can you be a president!

Do I, the Noona, have to take the initiative to find you?!

She looked up and glanced at the phone screen again, looking at those two lonely old messages. The irritability and loss caused by the "typing" status appearing and disappearing were gradually replaced by a clearer emotion—a mixture of dissatisfaction, expectation, and a bit of unyielding competitive spirit.

Jiang Zhiyu...

You're not going to send it, right?

Fine.

Let's see how long you can hold out.

Kim Taeyeon put her phone aside and picked up the tablet again, deciding to find the loudest and most boisterous comedy movie to watch, and by the way... send a few more encouraging messages to Yoona and ask more about the situation on set.

As for a certain guy who was "typing" and then disappeared...

She snorted.

Just you wait.

—

The pace was fast, filming would start early next month, and the contract was signed for all members to film together.

"Bear Kid" Descends and the Otherworld Entry Ticket

A few days later, a formal letter of intent and a detailed variety show concept document from TG Entertainment's Variety Department were delivered to Cube Entertainment via email and a special courier.

The document title was eye-catching: "(G)I-DLE Custom Variety Show—'naughty kids operation' Project Proposal (Phase One)."

The proposal was detailed, logically sound, and highlighted key points, clearly showing it had been deeply considered:

Variety Show Name: (G)I-DLE "naughty kids operation"

Program Type: Outdoor Survival Challenge + Immersive Role-Playing Reality Show

Core Setting:

In each episode, all (G)I-DLE members will collectively "cross over" into an "otherworld" scene meticulously crafted by the production team, where rules are strange or even absurd.

Diverse Otherworld Themes: For example, the first episode might be a giant "Candy House Kingdom" made of candy, cookies, and chocolate; the second episode might be a "Mysterious Research Institute" filled with discarded instruments and blinking indicator lights; the third episode could be an "Anti-Gravity Maze" following peculiar physical laws... Each world has its own set of self-consistent (but often irrational) operating rules.

The members' goal is to survive in this bizarre world and achieve the episode's "ultimate survival goal" (such as finding the exit key, repairing a core device, or surviving until time runs out while being hunted by "natives") through teamwork, mental puzzles, physical challenges, and responding to the often unexpected (and mischievous) "sudden tasks" randomly deployed by Chief PD Jiang Zhiyu (and his team).

Core Highlights:

Extreme Contrast (Collapse of Idol Image): Under high-intensity, unscripted (only a framework setting) survival pressure, the members' most authentic reactions, hidden personalities, and unknown skills (or lack thereof) will be fully triggered. Dignified? Elegant? Idol baggage? All of these will cease to exist when running frantically to "stay alive," "plotting" against each other for a bite of "otherworld food," or collectively breaking down in the face of a bizarre puzzle designed by the PD. What is shown is the most vivid and impactful "human" side.

Real Reactions (Unscripted Capturing): The show emphasizes capturing first-hand real reactions. Cameras will act as invisible observers, recording the entire process from the members' confused entry to their gradual breakdown, and finally to their desperate survival (or complete resignation). Laughs, tears, and explosive moments all stem from this.

Creative Level Design (PD's Malice): The level and task designs, personally handled or overseen by Jiang Zhiyu, are labeled as the "soul of the show." The proposal lists several possible task types as examples: stealing the "Honey Key" in the Candy House without being discovered by the "Gingerbread Man Guards"; correctly connecting a pile of unmarked, strange wires to start an escape pod in the Research Institute; and "balancing" a constantly tilting floor through team weight distribution in the maze... Each task is designed to test team chemistry and individual wit, creating a large number of unexpected program effects.

Strong Team Interaction (Touchstone of Bonds): When removed from a familiar environment and facing common hardships, the original interaction patterns among team members will be broken and reshaped. Who is the leader? Who is the physical strength representative? Who is the "clumsy teammate"? Who is the hidden "puzzle king"? Dependence, trust, disagreement, reconciliation... All levels of team relationships will be magnified and tested in extreme situations, which is both a viewing highlight and an excellent opportunity to deepen team bonds.

Expected Effects:

[part:gemini-3.1-flash-lite]

Potential for a phenomenal hit: Leveraging the existing high popularity of (G)I-DLE, the unique and novel concept of the show, and TG's proven "contrast" production ability in "the collapsed daily life," it has the potential to quickly ignite discussion and become a benchmark for the new generation of idol variety shows.

Successfully excavating member personalities: Providing an unprecedented stage for each member to showcase themselves, allowing fans and the public to see a more three-dimensional, diverse, and even "broken" yet incredibly authentic and cute side of them beyond music and the stage.

Refreshing public perception: Completely breaking the singular impression of (G)I-DLE as "just a talented girl group" or a "concept girl group," and establishing powerful new labels of being "funny, meme-worthy, full of team spirit, and capable of handling anything."

At the end of the document, a preliminary filming schedule was attached, and the tightness of the timeline was staggering:

First recording time: Early next month (specific date to be coordinated and confirmed).

Recording mode: Planned as intensive, consecutive days of filming to produce 2-3 episodes of content.

Scope of contract: It explicitly requires all six members of (G)I-DLE to participate throughout the entire process.

This means that regardless of individual schedules, and regardless of how they feel inside about the impending "torment," (G)I-DLE must sign this ticket to the "other world" as a complete entity.

After the proposal was circulated within Cube and the (G)I-DLE team, it sparked intense discussion.

Cube management was amazed by TG's planning efficiency and bold creativity, while also seeing the huge commercial value and potential to elevate the group's image, and was inclined to actively push it forward.

Meanwhile, in (G)I-DLE's dormitory and practice room...

"Operation Brat?" Song Yuqi read the name, her expression complex, "It sounds like they're going to treat us like monkeys..."

"Outdoor survival? Role-playing?" Cho Mi Yeon was a bit worried, "Will it be very tiring? Will we have to run a lot?"

Minnie showed an artist's interest in the "other world" setting: "A candy house? It sounds beautiful, but based on President Jiang's last performance... there must be a catch."

Ye Shuhua blinked and said slowly, "Time travel? Do I need to bring snacks?"

Xu Suizhen listened quietly without expressing much opinion, but a hint of curiosity and faint unease flashed in her eyes.

As the leader, Jeon Soyeon saw the deepest. She pointed at the words "extreme contrast," "genuine reaction," and "PD's malice" on the proposal, her expression serious: "This is definitely not easy. President Jiang... or rather, TG, doesn't want ordinary variety show effects; they want to dig out our most authentic, and even our most pathetic, sides. This is a huge challenge for both the group's image and our personal mental state."

But she paused, looking at her teammates, her eyes becoming firm: "But at the same time, this might also be a rare opportunity. Just like the proposal says, to break the inherent perceptions and show a more authentic version of us. And, if it's all of us together..."

She scanned the faces of each member, especially Xu Suizhen.

"We are one. Whether we are facing the stage, public opinion, or... the survival challenge of the 'other world.'"

All of us together. This concept, at this delicate moment, seemed to be endowed with even greater weight.

Early next month. Time is tight.

A variety show contract titled "Operation Brat," like a ticket to the unknown and challenges, had already been handed to (G)I-DLE.

Should they embrace this adventure that could bring both "image collapse" and "authentic charm," or hesitate and retreat? The answer seemed self-evident.

A high-stakes gamble regarding idol authenticity was about to unfold. The stakes were (G)I-DLE's future image and the bonds between them, which might become even stronger due to this shared "suffering."

— The filming progress at Ulsan Port was staggering in its speed.

This was largely due to the near-"dictatorial" and efficient control of director and screenwriter Jiang Zhiyu, as well as his own formidable ability, which could be described as a "human storyboard script."

Im Yoona's acting improvement was visible to the naked eye—of course, in Jiang Zhiyu's view, shooting this kind of hardcore action film was, to some extent, "simpler" for the female lead in the first half: restrain excessive emotions, maintain a cold, numb demeanor, and the lingering, unshakable anxiety and vigilance deep in her eyes. For idol actress Im Yoona, who was accustomed to showing rich facial expressions in front of the camera, this was a reverse challenge, but it also allowed her to quickly shed the traces of "acting" and get closer to the character's state.

And Jiang Zhiyu transformed into a "praise superhero."

Whenever Im Yoona completed a take that met his requirements, whether it was a precise block, a clean roll, or a tired yet still sharp expression, Jiang Zhiyu would always call "Cut" immediately, then walk over to the monitor and use his gentle yet affirming voice to give praise without reservation.

"Yoona Noona, the timing for that side dodge was perfect; the transition between muscle tension and relaxation was very natural."

"The look in your eyes is great; that's exactly the feeling of 'numb but the survival instinct is still there.'"

"That take is a wrap; excellent work."

His praise was always specific and professional, pointing directly to the core of the performance, making it impossible for Im Yoona to simply dismiss it as polite flattery. The result was that every time Im Yoona heard it, she couldn't help but feel her face heat up; she would either cover her face and turn away in shy annoyance, or purse her lips, glare at him with those doe eyes, mutter "I know," and then quickly run away to adjust her state.

This peculiar, slightly awkward, yet inexplicably harmonious interaction became a constant fixture on set, indirectly alleviating the tension brought on by the high-intensity action filming.

As for the dramatic scenes, since they relied more on the actors' inner depth and emotional outbursts, and the scenes were relatively simple (mostly indoor confrontations and dialogues), Jiang Zhiyu scheduled them during the intervals and the latter part of the action sequence filming. After all, action scenes burned through real money every day—explosions, stunts, locations, equipment, personnel—while dramatic scenes could be shot by renting a suitable house, making them highly cost-effective.

Jiang Zhiyu's "dictatorship" was also reflected in the filming process of the action scenes.

In the Korean film and television industry, screenwriters hold a lofty status, and Jiang Zhiyu, with his multiple roles as screenwriter, assistant director, and "financial backer representative" backed by the two major investors CJ and LOEN (IU), had almost absolute authority on set. He developed a unique filming method:

Before every formal shoot involving complex action sequences, he would require all relevant actors, stunt coordinators, cameramen, and even lighting technicians to be present, and then—he would step in personally to fully perform the combat sequence he had designed in his mind.

This wasn't just simple gesturing, but demonstrating at a speed and intensity close to the actual filming, clearly displaying the positioning, camera angles, points of force, and even the emotional reactions the actors should have at that moment.

For a roll followed by a shot, he would be precise about the position of the palm on the ground and the angle of the body's rotation; for a close-quarters brawl, he would break down every detail of the grappling and counter-maneuvers, explaining why it was designed that way.

No other director could do what he did. This required not only top-tier physical skills and a profound understanding of the camera but also the ability to seamlessly translate the images in his mind into body language.

The actors (especially those playing villains and police officers) went from initial shock to later admiration, and now to habit. Watching Jiang Zhiyu demonstrate became the most effective way for them to understand the logic of the character's movements and quickly enter their roles. The efficiency of the entire action sequence filming was therefore shockingly high.

Just as the filming of "the crab" was in full swing, another front for TG was quietly launched.

"(G)I-DLE Operation Brat" officially entered the countdown to filming preparation. Just as the TG variety department had anticipated and feared, judging from the rumors circulating within Cube and Xu Suizhen's increasingly silent state, her intention to leave the group seemed to be becoming firm.

Consequently, the label of "(G)I-DLE's last group variety show as a complete group," with its tragic and commemorative color, invisibly added immeasurable topic weight and urgency to this unreleased program. Both TG and Cube tacitly agreed to tilt all resources toward this project, and everything was advancing in a tight and somewhat rushed manner, striving to leave behind the most complete video record before any variables occurred.

In the evening, Jiang Zhiyu, having finished a day of filming, received a KakaoTalk message from Sunny on the car ride back.

Opening it, it was a long string of text revealing Sunny's quirky style:

[Sunny]: President Jiang! Director Jiang! Financial Backer Jiang! Free tonight? Specifically inviting you to spare some time to attend the "Celebration of Miss Im Yoona successfully breaking through herself, mastering the essence of action films, and the smooth phase-by-phase filming under the wise guidance of Director Jiang, an unofficial internal celebration dinner for Girls Generation"! Location: The usual spot (you know). Time: Eight o'clock tonight. Must grace us with your presence! [Heart] [Beer] [BBQ]

Jiang Zhiyu looked at this long and ridiculous "banquet name" and twitched the corner of his mouth, speechless. He could imagine the smug and sly expression on Sunny's face as she typed these words on the other end of the phone; her purpose was nothing more than to get a free meal, gossip, and... perhaps she was still thinking about her pink Lemm.

He originally wanted to decline due to filming fatigue, but after his finger hovered over the screen for a moment, he replied:

[Zhiyu]: Received. Will be there on time.

After replying, he leaned back against the seat, his gaze cast toward the city nightscape rapidly receding outside the window. His own face was vaguely reflected on the car window, along with the flowing spots of light outside.

Somehow, a figure intruded into his mind without warning.

Kim Taeyeon.

That "Noona" who hadn't contacted him privately for over a month.

They were clearly in Seoul, and there were clearly so many reasons to reach out—Yoona's filming performance, future music collaborations, or even just a simple greeting...

She could have asked about Yoona Noona's performance on set, let me praise Yoona Noona, and then I could have asked how she's been lately, and then met up naturally, right?

Jiang Zhiyu's mind suddenly popped this thought, carrying a bit of resentment that even he hadn't realized.

She really has zero emotional intelligence, and she's supposed to be the Girls Generation leader.

This evaluation made even him freeze for a moment, and then a more complex emotion surged up—it was a mix of grievance at her "lack of potential" and annoyance at being "left out in the cold."

If I don't contact you, you don't contact me?

We are people about to engage in deep cooperation! The strategic cooperation between TG and SM, your Kim Taeyeon's music project... aren't these all ready-made, legitimate excuses?

Even if... even if there was no work, as a Noona, isn't it normal to care about whether the maknae Yoona was being bullied by the director on set (even though the director is me)?!

The more he thought about it, the more "reasonable" he felt, and that inexplicable anger burned brighter and brighter. It was as if this month-plus of "losing contact" was entirely the other party's fault for not being proactive enough.

He completely forgot that he was also the person who hadn't proactively sent a message either.

He also forgot that morning when he sent breakfast and aromatherapy, and the way her cheeks flushed red and her eyes dodged his gaze.

He even forgot the chat interface on his phone, where he had repeatedly typed and deleted messages.

The car drove into the bustling streets of Gangnam District, getting closer and closer to the BBQ restaurant for the dinner.

Jiang Zhiyu composed himself, suppressing the sudden grievance and anger directed at a certain "absentee" back into the depths of his heart.

Tonight is Yoona Noona's celebration party, he has to keep his spirits up.

As for a certain Noona who doesn't understand "proactive contact"...

He gave a soft "Hmph," and adjusted his cuffs.

Just wait. I'll make you come to me eventually.