40: Chapter 40 Speed, speed!

Karina thought this round of barbecue was decent. It wasn't exactly gourmet, but at least it wasn't burnt. The pork belly had developed a golden, crispy edge, and the fat was sizzling on the surface, filling the entire private room with a mouth-watering aroma. She stared at the most perfectly grilled piece on the grate, caught in a mental dilemma—who should she give this piece to? Im Nayeon-sunbaenim? Or Momo-sunbaenim? Both were her seniors from TWICE, people she had only ever seen on television, and now, both were sitting right in front of her, waiting for her to serve the meat. Her chopsticks trembled slightly.

Im Nayeon's rabbit-like eyes were locked onto that piece of meat. Her eyes were big and bright, reflecting the fire from the grill and that golden slice of pork belly. Her mouth was slightly agape, and she licked her lower lip, looking for all the world like a rabbit waiting to be fed. Momo, however, was ready to pounce. Her chopsticks hovered over her plate, her fingers gripped tight, like an arrow ready to be fired. Her body leaned forward slightly, her center of gravity shifted toward her chopsticks; the moment Karina's chopsticks moved, hers would follow. This wasn't a meal; it was a hunt.

Karina took a deep breath and reached her chopsticks toward the meat. "Nayeon-sun—"

"Arigato!"

Momo's voice was faster than her chopsticks. No, her chopsticks were faster than her voice. Momo's chopsticks carved an arc through the air, precisely snagging the meat, retracting, dipping it in sauce, popping it into her mouth, chewing, and swallowing. The entire process took less than two seconds. Im Nayeon was stunned. Her mouth was still hanging open, her chopsticks still hovering over the plate, her eyes still fixed on the meat that was no longer there. She looked at Momo, at that satisfied face currently chewing, and at the sauce smeared on the corner of Momo's mouth. Her brain underwent an emergency reboot in that split second.

"Momo-ya! Are you a ninja?"

Momo chewed the meat, saying indistinctly, "Ninjas don't eat barbecue." "The speed you just used, you're definitely a ninja." "Ninjas use shurikens, not chopsticks." "That move you just made was faster than a shuriken." "Thanks for the compliment." "I wasn't complimenting you!"

Jiang Zhiyu took the barbecue tongs from Karina's hand. Karina's fingers were still trembling, and the tongs were stained with sauce. As he took them, his fingertips brushed against hers. Karina's fingers flinched—not just a flinch, but a recoil. It was as if she had been electrocuted, pulling her hand back instantly. Her face flushed red. "Karina-ah, you can grill next time. Let me handle it for now." Jiang Zhiyu's voice wasn't loud, but it was clear. His expression was calm, so calm it was as if he were saying, "The weather is nice today." But the moment he took the tongs, Karina felt a long-lost sense of relief. The task of grilling, at last, was back in the right hands.

Karina let out a sigh of relief. Her shoulders went from "tensed" to "relaxed," and from "relaxed" to "slumped." She leaned back in her chair, watching Jiang Zhiyu skillfully flip, cut, and distribute the meat. A voice in her heart whispered— "If I grilled a few more times, it would definitely taste better than yours!" She didn't say it out loud, because she'd be laughed at if she did. But she said it in her mind, and saying it meant she won. Winning meant—she picked up her water glass, took a sip, and a small curve appeared at the corner of her mouth.

Im Nayeon raised an eyebrow. Her brow arched so high it nearly touched her hairline. She watched Jiang Zhiyu's movements as he grilled—unhurried and calm, each piece of meat precisely flipped, every side grilled to a golden, crispy perfection; the tongs seemed like an extension of his own hand. After watching for a moment, she spoke up. "Producer Jiang knows how to grill, too?"

Jiang Zhiyu smiled. "I know a thing or two."

Kim Minjeong said it as if showing off. "Oppa's grilling is super delicious! Michelin-star quality!" She gave a thumbs-up, her thumb held high, her whole face saying, "Everything I'm saying is true." Her eyes sparkled, as if she were saying, "You're all in for a treat today." Jiang Zhiyu reached out, enveloped her hand, and pressed it under the table. The movement was fast—so fast that before Kim Minjeong could react, her hand was already pinned beneath the table. She tugged, but couldn't pull it out. She tugged again, still nothing. Jiang Zhiyu's hand was large, enclosing her fist like a seashell holding a pearl.

"Minjeong-ah, don't flatter me." Jiang Zhiyu's voice was calm, so calm it was as if he were saying, "You look nice today." "Im Nayeon-sunbaenim has been debuted for so long; she's eaten delicacies you can't even imagine." Kim Minjeong's hand remained under the table; she stopped pulling, knowing it was futile. She looked at Jiang Zhiyu, at that calm face devoid of any emotion, and nodded thoughtfully. Then she turned her head to look at Im Nayeon.

"Nayeon-sunbaenim, what do you think is the most delicious thing?"

Im Nayeon thought about it. She thought for a long time—long enough for Momo to eat another piece of pork belly, for Jiang Zhiyu to flip all the meat on the grill, and for Lee Tima to start tapping the table with her chopsticks. Her expression was very serious, serious enough that it looked like she was answering a difficult exam question.

"Lately, I've been super into the red bean taiyaki from the uncle in Hongdae. His shop's new chocolate taiyaki and the cheese flavor are super delicious..."

Karina, Kim Minjeong, and Jiang Zhiyu's gazes landed simultaneously on Ningning's face. Three pairs of eyes, six pupils, all saying the same thing. Not "Did you hear that," not "Is that uncle the one we know," not "Did you suggest the chocolate and cheese flavors." It was—"Go collect those royalties, Ningning, I support you."

Ningning blushed, lowering her head in silence. The redness started from the base of her neck, spreading all the way up to her ear tips and hairline. Her fingers twisted together under the table, her knuckles turning white. Her lips were pursed into a line, a line that said—"I don't know, I don't know anything, don't ask me."

Jiang Zhiyu's grilling technique and his superb ability to set the mood made everyone feel very comfortable. The meat was grilled just right, and every piece was distributed onto everyone's plates—not too much, not too little, not too fast, not too slow. Whenever Momo's plate was empty, he would place a piece of meat right in. When Im Nayeon's plate still had half a piece left, he would place a new one next to it. When Kim Minjeong's plate was piled into a small mountain, he would pause and wait for her to finish. When Ningning's plate had been empty for a long time, he would pick the largest piece and put it in. When Karina's plate had only scraps left, he would pick a whole, beautiful, perfectly marbled piece of Korean beef and gently place it in the center of her plate. Karina looked at that piece of meat without a word. She picked it up, dipped it in sauce, wrapped it in lettuce, and popped it into her mouth. She chewed twice and swallowed. Delicious. Not just "delicious," but "too delicious." So good that she didn't want to speak.

Momo felt that Jiang Zhiyu understood her very well. Not just "very well," but "extremely well." Whatever she wanted to eat, he would pick up. Whichever piece she wanted, he would pick up. Just as she thought, "That piece of meat seems grilled," his tongs would already be reaching over. Just as she thought, "That piece should be my turn," it was already on her plate. She looked at Jiang Zhiyu, her gaze shifting. From "I'm going to eat meat like crazy" to "This person gets me," and from "This person gets me" to "My best dining partner." She put down her chopsticks and pressed her palms together as if praying.

"Producer Jiang, remember to call me next time there's a gathering."

Jiang Zhiyu looked at her and nodded. "Okay." Momo smiled. She smiled so happily that her eyes curved into crescents, her lips curled up at the perfect angle, and she was so happy that Im Nayeon glanced at her, a voice in her heart asking—"Momo-ah, where is your restraint?"

Im Nayeon ate a lot, too. But she had her own restraint; after all, one had to maintain a beauty's composure in front of a handsome man. When she picked up meat, her movements were slow, so slow it was like filming a commercial. When she chewed, her mouth was closed, closed tight, so tight you couldn't see the food inside. When she swallowed, she didn't make a sound, unlike Momo's "gulp." When she wiped her mouth, she used the corner of a tissue, dabbing gently, then dabbing again. She was a beauty, and beauties must be elegant. Elegance meant—she watched Momo stuff a fifth piece of pork belly into her mouth, her cheeks bulging like a hamster. The corner of her mouth twitched—not a "cramp," but a "I want to eat like that too." She didn't. She continued to maintain her elegance.

Everyone finished their critique of the debut song. Im Nayeon said ITZY's song was great, Momo said the dance was difficult, Lee Tima said, "It's all my credit," and Jiang Zhiyu said, "You only participated; you didn't write it." Lee Tima said, "Participating is also a contribution," Jiang Zhiyu said, "Participation doesn't equal credit," Lee Tima said, "Then why did you let me participate?" Jiang Zhiyu said, "Because you were free." Lee Tima fell silent. She gritted her teeth, picked up a piece of meat, shoved it into her mouth, and chewed forcefully.

Im Nayeon put down her chopsticks, folded her hands on the table, and leaned forward slightly. Her gaze landed on Jiang Zhiyu's face and lingered for a moment. "Producer Jiang—" Her voice wasn't loud, but it was clear.

Jiang Zhiyu was flipping meat, and upon hearing this, his tongs paused. "Sunbaenim, you can just call me Zhiyu."

Im Nayeon raised an eyebrow. Her brow arched high again; this time it didn't touch her hairline, but it was close. "Oh? Zhiyu?" She rolled the syllables around in her mouth, as if tasting some complex food. "Alright then, Zhiyu-xi~" Her tone lifted slightly at the end, carrying a sense of "I won" triumph.

Momo couldn't help but glance at her. That glance held too many things—not "What are you doing," not "What's wrong with you," not "What are you up to." It was "I know what you're thinking."

Im Nayeon smiled sweetly. "Zhiyu-xi, I've listened to all the songs you've written."

Jiang Zhiyu smiled. "I listen to TWICE's songs often, too."

Im Nayeon's eyes brightened. "Oh? Really? Then which one is your favorite?"

Jiang Zhiyu flashed a smile. It was a subtle smile—not a "happy" smile, not a "shy" smile, not an "awkward" smile. It was the smile of "I knew you'd ask this question, and I've already prepared the answer."

"I gonna be a star."

Im Nayeon's smile froze. The corners of her mouth still held the same curve, but it was no longer a "smile"; it was a "what are you talking about." Her eyes were still curved, but that curve was no longer "happy"; it was "are you sure."

Momo, currently eating barbecue, nearly choked when she heard this. Her mouth was bulging, stuffed with meat, her eyes wide open, her pupils reflecting Jiang Zhiyu's calm, emotionless face. Her throat moved as she swallowed. Then she coughed—not a "cough," but a "choking." She picked up her water glass, took a big gulp, set it down, and took a deep breath.

Karina and the other two couldn't help but laugh. Kim Minjeong's mouth twitched—not a "cramp," but "suppressed laughter." Ningning covered her mouth with her hand, but her shoulders were shaking. Karina lowered her head, her hair falling down to cover half her face, but her ears were red.

Lee Tima put down her chopsticks. "What is that?" Her voice wasn't loud, but it was clear.

Jiang Zhiyu looked at her. "That's the song where Nayeon-sunbaenim has the most lines."

Lee Tima nodded, like a student listening intently. "Nayeon-Unnie must really like this song."

Im Nayeon screamed internally—How could you tell! Her heart was roaring, howling, screaming frantically. Her face still wore a smile, but that smile was about to crack. She took a deep breath and told herself—she was a senior, seniors had to act like seniors, and acting like a senior meant not losing composure in front of juniors. She couldn't lose it, so she smiled. She smiled very painfully.

Im Nayeon immediately skipped over the topic. She spoke quickly, so quickly it was as if she were in a rush. "Zhiyu-xi, what is your relationship with Karina and the others?" Her gaze moved from Jiang Zhiyu's face to Karina's, then from Karina's to Kim Minjeong's and Ningning's. Her expression shifted from "awkward" to "curious," and from "curious" to "serious."

Karina and the other two put down their chopsticks, listening intently to the senior's question. Their backs were straight, hands placed on their knees, sitting as upright as three elementary school students waiting for the teacher to call roll.

Jiang Zhiyu put down the tongs and leaned back in his chair. His gaze moved from Kim Minjeong's face to Ningning's, and from Ningning's to Karina's. His expression was calm, so calm that no emotion could be detected. But his gaze paused on Karina's face. It was very brief, lasting only a fraction of a second.

"Minjeong and Ningning are my younger sisters."

Kim Minjeong raised the corner of her mouth triumphantly. Her chin lifted slightly, her eyes sparkled, and her whole face said, "Did you hear that? I'm his sister." Her fingers made a V sign under the table.

Ningning, however, glanced at Karina. Her gaze moved from Jiang Zhiyu's face to Karina's, then back to Jiang Zhiyu's. She thought to herself—did Jiang Zhiyu forget about Karina? No, he did it on purpose! He looked at the blush that had just faded from Ningning's face, which was now flushing up again; her cheeks were like two peach blossoms, pink and tender. A curve appeared at the corner of her mouth—not a smile, but the confirmation of "I'm shipping them again."

Then she looked at Kim Minjeong. Kim Minjeong was still triumphant, her mouth still curled, her eyes still bright, her whole face saying "I'm his sister." Ningning sighed internally—Minjeong-Unnie, please be more observant! He was talking about sisters; you are a sister, but what about Karina-Unnie? Didn't you notice he didn't mention her? Didn't you notice Karina-Unnie is blushing? Didn't you notice the atmosphere is off? She noticed. She knew everything. She just didn't say anything. Because she wanted to watch.

Karina didn't know what she was feeling right now. She only felt that her heart was as soft as cotton candy. That softness wasn't "mushy," but "sweet." So sweet that she felt her heartbeat accelerating, so sweet that she felt her face burning, so sweet that she felt the corners of her mouth curling upward. She suppressed it, not letting them curl up. She didn't want anyone to see her smiling. Because she didn't know why she was smiling.

She was suddenly filled with anticipation, yet also somewhat fearful of Jiang Zhiyu's answer.

She anticipated him saying a certain word, and feared him saying a certain word.

She did not know what that word was; she only knew that she did not want to hear it.

It was not "not wanting to," but "not daring to."

She did not dare to listen, because if she heard it, she would remember it.

Once remembered, it could not be forgotten.

Once it could not be forgotten, it meant—she lowered her head, looking at the piece of cold Hanwoo beef on her plate.

The meat had gone cold, and the fat had solidified, forming a thin, white film on the surface of the meat.

She did not heat it up; she picked it up, put it in her mouth, and chewed slowly.

It was cold and did not taste good.

But she did not spit it out, because she needed to chew.

She needed time, needed to keep her head down, and needed to ensure no one could see her expression.

Karina wanted to speak up and skip this topic.

Her mouth opened, but before any sound could come out, Im Nayeon's voice arrived first.

"Oh? Zhiyu, you only mentioned Minjeong and Ningning, so what about Ji-min? What is Ji-min's status in your heart?"

Karina's face turned even redder.

It was not just "red," it was "scalding."

It was so hot that she felt her face burning; it burned until she felt her ears were steaming, and her heart was about to burst out of her chest.

She kept her head down, not daring to look at anyone.

Her fingers were twisted together under the table, her knuckles white, and her nails digging into her palms.

She did not know what she was nervous about; she only knew that she was waiting.

Waiting for his answer.

Ningning was screaming wildly inside.

Her heart was shouting, roaring, and churning.

Her face remained calm, but inside, she was in an uproar.

She was shouting—finally, someone asked! Finally, someone asked!

She had been waiting for this question for a long time!

She had been waiting since the day she left the Red Velvet practice room!

She looked at Karina's flushed face, at Kim Minjeong's face which had turned from smug to confused, and at Jiang Zhiyu's calm face, which revealed no emotion.

She was waiting.

Lee Tima was eating meat, her ears pricked high.

Her chewing slowed down—not "slow," but "paused."

The meat stayed in her mouth without being chewed because she was listening.

She needed to hear every word clearly because she wanted to record this story.

She was Jiang Zhiyu's younger sister, and it was only natural for a younger sister to know her brother's secrets.

She waited.

Kim Minjeong also looked over.

Her gaze shifted from Im Nayeon's face to Jiang Zhiyu's, and from Jiang Zhiyu's face to Karina's.

Her expression turned from "smug" to "confused," and from "confused" to "curious."

She also wanted to know.

She wanted to know Jiang Zhiyu's answer, wanted to know what status Karina held in his heart, and wanted to know why he had just said "Minjeong and Ningning are my younger sisters" but did not say "Ji-min is also my younger sister."

She wanted to know.

Momo was still eating.

Her chopsticks did not stop; she picked up meat, dipped it in sauce, put it in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

Her gaze swept across everyone's faces before returning to the grill.

She was thinking—the Hanwoo beef was almost gone; should she order another plate?

She raised her hand.

"Waiter, one more order of Hanwoo beef."

——

Jiang Zhiyu scanned the room.

His gaze shifted from Im Nayeon's face to Momo's, from Momo's face to Kim Minjeong's, from Kim Minjeong's face to Ningning's, and from Ningning's face to Lee Tima's.

Finally, it stopped on Karina's flushed face.

That face was as red as a ripe persimmon, as red as a shrimp just fished out of a pot, as red as her heart, which felt like it was about to explode.

Her gaze was dodging, not daring to look at him, but she did not know where to hide.

Looking to the left was Kim Minjeong.

Looking to the right was Ningning.

Looking down was the tabletop.

Looking up was the ceiling.

She chose to look down, at the piece of cold Hanwoo beef on her plate.

Jiang Zhiyu's gaze revealed something unknown.

It was not "gentleness," not "teasing," not "seriousness," not any emotion that could be simply defined.

It was complex, mixed together, and indistinguishable.

He smiled faintly.

The curve of his lips was not large, but it was genuine.

"Noona. In my heart, Ji-min is a Noona."

Ningning was somewhat speechless.

She had waited so long, for so many days, waiting since she left the Red Velvet practice room, waiting until they reached the barbecue restaurant, waiting for the Hanwoo to be served, waiting for three rounds of pork belly to be grilled, waiting for Momo to order two more dishes.

The answer she got was— "Noona."

Not "younger sister," not "friend," not "colleague," not "person I like," not "important person," not any word she wanted to hear.

It was "Noona."

She was a bit disappointed.

But her eyes lit up immediately, as if someone had lit a lamp in her pupils.

Come to think of it, the fact that Jiang Zhiyu had a preference for older women was something everyone at SM knew.

Kim Taeyeon was a Noona, Im Yoona was a Noona, Bae Joo-hyun was a Noona, Yeri was a Noona, Wendy was a Noona, Seulgi was a Noona, and Joy was a Noona.

He was always gentler, more patient, and more willing to compromise with older women.

Kim Taeyeon did not let him drink milk tea, so he stopped drinking it.

Im Yoona asked him to treat her, and he did.

Bae Joo-hyun told him to be quiet, and he was quiet.

Toward the younger Kim Minjeong and Ningning, he was "taking care of them."

Toward the older Karina, it was—Ningning stopped thinking about it.

She looked at Karina's even redder face, and a voice in her heart said— "Ji-min Unnie, you are a Noona. But the way he looks at you is not the way he looks at a Noona."

She did not say it.

She just watched.

Kim Minjeong nodded seriously.

"Noona is good."

She silently repeated this answer in her heart and felt very satisfied.

It was not "younger sister," not "friend," not "colleague."

It was "Noona."

A Noona was family, a close person, someone you could rely on, someone who would appear by your side when you needed them.

She did not need Karina to be anything else; she only needed Karina to be a "Noona."

Her Noona, and also Jiang Zhiyu's Noona.

She could not help but let out a sigh of relief.

It was like a stone that had been hanging for a long time had finally fallen to the ground.

She did not know what she had been worried about; she only knew that she did not need to worry anymore.

Lee Tima could not help but glance at Jiang Zhiyu.

This guy had a preference for older women; she had known that for a long time.

Back on the Tianxuan Continent, he had always treated older women better.

Wang Shuyun was older than him, Han Muyang was older than him, and Baek Ji-xin was also older than him.

He was always gentler, more patient, and more willing to compromise with them.

She asked him, "Why do you like older ones?" and he said, "The older ones won't fight with me for food."

She said, "Liar," and he smiled, not denying it.

Now he was calling her "Noona" again.

Lee Tima picked up a piece of meat, stuffed it into her mouth, and chewed.

She did not want to care anymore; as long as he was happy, that was fine.

Im Nayeon's expression changed.

It was not "changed," it was "stiffened."

She froze, as if someone had pressed a pause button on her.

Her chopsticks were still holding a piece of meat, suspended in mid-air, having forgotten to put it into her mouth.

Her mouth was still slightly open, having forgotten to close it.

Her eyes were still fixed on Jiang Zhiyu, having forgotten to blink.

Jiang Zhiyu called Karina "Noona"?

How old was Karina this year?

She calculated rapidly in her mind—Karina was a trainee and looked like she was in her teens; anyone who could be called "Noona" by Jiang Zhiyu should be older than him.

Jiang Zhiyu was seventeen, so Karina must be at least eighteen.

She finished the calculation, but she did not let out a sigh of relief.

Because the problem was not how old Karina was; the problem was—how old Jiang Zhiyu was.

Karina also could not clearly describe the feeling of hearing Jiang Zhiyu say she was a "Noona."

It was not "happy," not "unhappy."

It was not "satisfied," not "unsatisfied."

It was "indescribable."

Her heartbeat was fast, so fast that she felt her chest could barely contain that heart.

Her face was very hot, so hot that she felt her skin was burning.

Her mind was very chaotic, so chaotic that she did not know what to think.

His answer was unexpected, yet reasonable.

She had originally thought he would say "friend," or "colleague," or "younger sister."

He did not.

He said "Noona."

This was not the answer she wanted.

She did not know what she wanted, but she knew it was not this.

Not "Noona."

There were too many Noonas.

Kim Taeyeon was a Noona, Im Yoona was a Noona, Bae Joo-hyun was a Noona.

She did not want to become "one of the Noonas."

She wanted to become—she did not know.

She only knew it was not this.

Momo was eating grilled pork belly.

She had eaten a lot, so much that a small pile of bones had accumulated beside her plate, so much that her stomach had already distended, so much that she felt she could still eat another plate.

She chewed the meat and spoke indistinctly.

"Eh? Zhiyu, you call Ji-min Noona, so how old are you now?"

Im Nayeon was praying wildly inside.

She prayed that Jiang Zhiyu was not a minor, prayed that he was at least twenty years old, and prayed that he would not make her feel like a pervert who had feelings for a minor.

Her hands were clasped together under the table, fingertips pressing against the tip of her nose, her lips moving, but no sound came out.

She was chanting, but not "Amitabha," but "nineteen years old, nineteen years old, nineteen years old."

Jiang Zhiyu smiled and said.

"I am seventeen this year."

Im Nayeon's prayers shattered.

Shattered into powder, shattered into dust, shattered into a mood where she did not know whether to cry or laugh.

Seventeen years old.

A minor.

She had feelings for a minor.

Not "feelings," it was "fondness."

Not "fondness," it was "appreciation."

Not "appreciation," it was—she stopped thinking about it.

Momo was somewhat surprised.

"Omo! You totally can't tell! I thought you were twenty-three!"

Jiang Zhiyu's smile did not change.

"People often say I look old."

Momo shook her head.

"It's not your appearance, it's your demeanor. The way you speak, the way you look at people, your attitude toward doing things—none of it is like a seventeen-year-old."

"It's like someone who has lived for many years and experienced many things."

She paused and turned to look at Im Nayeon.

"Nayeon Unnie, you're right, aren't you."

Im Nayeon had turned into a rabbit struck by lightning.

Her ears were perked up, but she could not hear any sound.

Her eyes were open, but she could not see anything.

Her mouth was open, but she could not say anything.

She was frozen there, like a frozen sculpture.

Her heart was collapsing.

Not "collapsing," it was "caving in."

A skyscraper, collapsing with a roar, dust filling the sky, rubble everywhere.

She stood in the middle of the ruins, still holding chopsticks in her hand, with a piece of meat still clamped on the chopsticks.

She did not know what was wrong with her.

"I... I actually fell for a minor at first sight..."

Her voice was very small, so small that only she could hear it.

Not "fell for at first sight," it was "had feelings for."

Not "had feelings for," it was "thought he was not bad."

Not "thought he was not bad," it was—she stopped thinking about it.

She glared fiercely at the plate in front of her.

The plate was white, circular, and had a thin blue pattern along the edge.

She glared at that pattern, as if glaring at an enemy.

Her thoughts were chaotic, like a ball of yarn that a cat had played with, finding neither the beginning nor the end.

Jiang Zhiyu noticed that something was wrong with her.

Her chopsticks had stopped moving, her mouth had stopped chewing, her eyes had stopped blinking.

She was like someone who had been pressed with a pause button, frozen in the image of "I am thinking about something."

He was somewhat curious.

"Is something wrong?"

Im Nayeon was like a startled small animal.

Her body shuddered violently, and her chopsticks almost fell.

She suddenly looked up, first meeting Jiang Zhiyu's gaze.

Those eyes were looking at her, her face reflected in his pupils.

In that gaze was concern, curiosity, and a little bit of worry.

A very ordinary look, so ordinary that it was like a friend asking you, "Are you okay?"

But Im Nayeon's heart skipped a beat at that moment.

Not "skipped," it was "stopped."

It stopped for a moment, then continued to beat.

It was beating very fast, so fast that she felt Jiang Zhiyu could hear it.

Then came the visual impact.

It wasn't that she hadn't seen handsome men; TWICE's seniors and juniors had many handsome men, and SM artists also had many handsome men; she had seen many.

But Jiang Zhiyu was different.

His handsomeness was not the handsomeness of "exquisite features," not the handsomeness of "a great body," not the handsomeness of "outstanding demeanor."

It was the handsomeness of "when he looks at you, you will feel that he is the only person in this world looking at you."

Her face turned red.

Not the red of "shyness," but the red of "being discovered."

She waved her hands hastily.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!"

Her speaking speed was very fast, so fast that it was like she was in a hurry.

Her movements were large, so large that the chopsticks wobbled in her hand, almost flying away.

She smiled, a very forced smile, so forced that it was like she was covering something up.

She did not know if she had covered it up, she only knew that she could not think about it anymore.

She could not think about it anymore; if she thought about it anymore, she would really be finished.

Karina looked at Im Nayeon's flushed face, and a voice in her heart said—she understood.

Not "understood," it was "knew."

She knew why Im Nayeon was blushing, knew why she did not dare to look at Jiang Zhiyu, knew why she smiled so forcedly.

Because she was the same.

When Jiang Zhiyu looked at her, she was the same.

Blushing, heartbeat accelerating, not daring to look at him, and her smile was also forced.

She understood.

So she looked at Im Nayeon, a resonance of "me too" in her eyes.

The plan to bankrupt the chaebol continued.

Plate after plate of Hanwoo beef was eaten; a small pile of bones had accumulated beside Momo's plate, and some had also accumulated beside Im Nayeon's plate; Kim Minjeong and Ningning's plates were clean because they ate quickly, and the bones were cleared away by the waiter before they could pile up.

There was still half a piece of meat on Karina's plate; she did not eat it because she was no longer hungry.

It was not because she was full, but because she was watching.

Watching Jiang Zhiyu flip meat, watching Momo eat meat, watching Im Nayeon blush, watching Kim Minjeong look smug, watching Ningning giggle, watching Lee Tima's ears pricked high.

She felt it was worth it.

This money, no matter how much was spent, was fine.

Not "fine," it was "willing."

Willing to pay for this meal, willing to pay for this scene, willing to pay for this moment.

In this moment, she was not "Karina," not "an SM trainee," not "the second daughter of the Liu family."

She was just a person, a person with her friends.

A person who liked watching Jiang Zhiyu flip meat, a person who liked listening to Kim Minjeong tell jokes, a person who liked watching Ningning giggle, a person who liked bickering with Lee Tima.

A person willing to pay for these people.

Momo raised her hand.

"Waiter, one more plate of Hanwoo beef."

Karina smiled.

"Okay."