413: Chapter 467 The Old Woman (1)

SM Entertainment's Online Public Opinion Department fell into complete chaos at 2:17 AM on September 28th.

The staff member on duty was the first to notice the anomaly. On the trending search list, Karina's name spread like a virus—the first, second, third, fourth... He rubbed his eyes, thinking he was hallucinating. Refreshing the page, the trending searches still firmly occupied eight of the top ten spots, and the heat was climbing at a rate visible to the naked eye.

His finger hovered over the mouse, and his whole body froze for a few seconds. Then he suddenly grabbed the phone on the desk and dialed the Director's number.

The phone rang more than a dozen times, but no one answered. He hung up and dialed again. This time, a raspy voice came from the other end, clearly pulled out of a dream: "...What is it?"

"Director, something big has happened."

"What big thing?" The Director's voice was still sleepy.

"Karina's Bubble, it's taken eight of the top ten trending spots."

There was a five-second silence on the other end. Then the Director's voice became clear: "Say that again?"

"Karina's Bubble live, from 7 PM to 11 PM, four hours, she sent 116 text messages, 56 selfies, and 36 video replies. Now the whole internet is discussing this, and the trending searches have exploded."

The Director's voice suddenly rose: "Why was no one notified in advance?! For a project of this level, why was the PR Department completely unaware?"

The staff member opened his mouth, not knowing what to say. He was just a night shift worker; he only found out about Karina having a Bubble live tonight by scrolling through the trending searches.

The Director hung up. Three minutes later, the aespa Manager's phone began to vibrate frantically.

When Chief Kim crawled out of his bed, he was still dazed. He glanced at the caller ID—Director of the Public Opinion Department. Picking up, the other party immediately lashed out: "What's going on with Karina's Bubble live? Why didn't we know anything? Who planned this? Who at SM approved this?"

Chief Kim was stunned. He had gone to sleep early last night and had no idea what had happened. "What Bubble live? Ji-min had a live tonight?"

Silence on the other end. That kind of silence was more terrifying than any interrogation.

Chief Kim hurriedly turned on his phone. The moment he saw the trending search list, he felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over him. He flipped to Karina's Bubble interface, and looking at the dense text, photos, and videos, his mind went blank.

116 messages. 56 selfies. 36 videos. Four hours.

He didn't know a single word about it. Karina hadn't told him. The Manager didn't know, the company didn't know, the PR Department didn't know—no one knew. This trending search storm sweeping the entire Korean internet had fallen from the sky without any warning.

Chief Kim sat on the edge of the bed, his hand holding the phone trembling slightly. He remembered yesterday afternoon when Karina said "Oppa asked me to dinner, I'm leaving first" with that nonchalant expression, remembered the large bag she was carrying when she went out, and remembered her turning back to smile at him, saying "Chief-nim, see you tomorrow" with those crescent eyes.

At the time, he thought she really was just going to dinner.

He picked up the phone and called Karina.

It rang for a long time, but no one answered.

He called Kim Minjeong again.

It rang for a long time, and still no one answered.

He then called NingNing.

Similarly, no one answered.

Finally, he called Uchinaga Eri.

Still no one answered.

He took a deep breath, put on his clothes, and rushed out the door, calculating in his mind how to explain to the higher-ups while driving. But no matter how he calculated, there was only one conclusion—it was over.

Lights began to turn on one after another in the SM Entertainment building at 2:40 AM.

The first to arrive was the Director of the Public Opinion Monitoring Department. He was wearing pajamas with a trench coat over them, his hair was messy, and his eyes were bloodshot. Sitting in front of the computer, he stared at the data, his fingers tapping rapidly on the keyboard. Karina's Bubble subscriptions had grown by nearly a million in four hours and were still skyrocketing; discussions on related topics had exceeded 300 million, covering Korea, China, Japan, Southeast Asia, Europe, and America. Those figures jumped on the screen, every number mocking SM's incompetence.

The Director of the PR Department was the second to arrive. She had been woken up by a phone call from her bed, hadn't even had time to put on makeup, and her bare face was filled with exhaustion and anxiety. Her first words upon pushing open the door were: "Is the public opinion controllable?"

The Public Opinion Director didn't answer. He turned the screen around. The PR Director looked at those trending search terms—"Karina's Confession," "Ji-min Likes You," "Tsundere Ji-min Four Hours"—and was silent for a long time. Then she took a deep breath: "This is no longer a question of whether it's controllable. This is... we're not even on the bus."

When the Director of the Artist Management Department arrived, Chief Kim was already in the conference room. He had his head down, like a prisoner waiting for judgment. The Artist Management Director looked at him, wanting to ask "Why didn't you know," but swallowed the words. Because he himself didn't know either.

At 3:20 AM, the conference room was full of people. Public Opinion Monitoring, PR, Artist Management, Legal—everyone who could come was there. Everyone had the same expression on their faces: confusion, anxiety, and a hint of unspeakable... admiration.

The Public Opinion Director cleared his throat and began to report. "At 19:03 last night, Karina posted the first message on Bubble. The content was..." He projected the content from the screen onto the large display. Gasps rose one after another in the conference room.

"Guess what I'm going to do today? It's not like I'm doing this specifically for you."

Someone couldn't help but whisper: "What kind of tone is this?"

The Public Opinion Director didn't answer and continued to scroll down. Every photo, every caption, every video reply was projected on the large screen. "The milk should be boiled just right, not too hot and not too cold... just like my feelings." "Egg whites and sugar should be stirred evenly... just like my mood when I miss you." "Pour the milk slowly; if it's too fast, the milk skin will break... just like when I get close to you, if it's too fast, everything will be ruined."

The conference room was so quiet that the hum of the air conditioner could be heard. Those words, those photos, those videos were like stones thrown into a calm lake, stirring different ripples in everyone's hearts.

The PR Director spoke, her voice somewhat strained: "These... were all written by her?"

No one could answer her.

The Public Opinion Director continued to scroll. "Someone asked me... do I like you? Hmm... I do. If I didn't, why would I chat with you for so long? If I didn't, why would I want to make something delicious for you? If I didn't... why would I... be so happy?"

In the video, Karina had her head down, her voice very soft, as soft as the sound of rain outside the window. Someone in the conference room took a soft breath, and someone covered their mouth. The Artist Management Director's expression was complex—he had managed so many artists, but he had never seen content like this.

It wasn't an official statement, not a stage performance, not a variety show effect. It was just a girl, standing in a kitchen, facing the camera, speaking softly about "liking." That feeling was like she was talking to one person, yet also like she was talking to millions. Everyone who watched felt she was talking to them.

He flipped to the last photo. Karina sat by the window, holding a cup of hot tea, smiling at the camera. The caption read: "Thank you for spending four hours with me tonight. Making desserts with you made time fly. Alright, I really should sleep. Goodnight, my... ah, is this too much? But I still have to say... Goodnight, sweet dreams. See you next time."

That unfinished "Goodnight, my..." was like a feather, gently landing on everyone's heart. The conference room was silent for a long time.

A high-level executive spoke, his voice carrying suppressed anger: "So what you mean is, your artist, completely without your knowledge, did a four-hour live, posted over a hundred pieces of content, and you knew nothing?"

Chief Kim's head hung even lower.

Another executive took over: "That's not the point. The point is the content—look at these scripts, 'want to give you a surprise,' 'just like my mood when I miss you,' 'if it's too fast when getting close to you, everything will be ruined'—what is this? Is this a confession? Who is she saying this to? Fans? Or a specific person?"

The atmosphere in the conference room became even more solemn.

"And that 'Goodnight, my...'," someone flipped through the printed screenshots, "although it's unfinished, what could follow 'my'? 'My girlfriend'? 'My boyfriend'? This playing with boundaries is too dangerous."

Park Jae-ji had not spoken. He just stared at the data, looking at it line by line, photo by photo, over and over again. He wasn't looking at the risk; he was looking at—why did this plan succeed? What was its core? Was it the desserts? No. Was it the photos? No. Was it the trilingual Bubbles in Chinese, English, and Korean? No. It was that feeling, that feeling of "a girlfriend chatting with you." That feeling of "she made it specifically for you," "she thought of you while making it," "she was thinking of you when she did it." That feeling of being liked, cared for, and kept in mind.

This wasn't making desserts. This was selling the feeling of being in love. And Karina sold it too well.

He looked up at Chief Kim: "Where is she now?"

Chief Kim froze for a moment, then shook his head: "I don't know... I can't get through to her phone."

"Go find her." Park Jae-ji's voice was calm. "Find her, find out who made this plan. Then have her come to the company tomorrow—no, this morning."

Chief Kim nodded and turned to leave quickly.

The conference room fell into silence again. Some yawned, some rubbed their eyes, some stared at the ceiling in a daze. At 3 AM, no one wanted to be here, but no one dared to leave. Because this wasn't over yet. The trending searches were still rising, the data was still soaring, and they, as SM's PR Department, were actually completely ignorant of all this. If word got out, it would be embarrassing.

Outside the window, the horizon began to turn white.

More and more people were in the conference room. Some rushed from home, some were pulled out of bed, some had worked all night and hadn't had time to close their eyes. Cup after cup of coffee was gulped down, everyone's face was filled with exhaustion, but no one intended to leave.

Chief Kim finally got through to Karina's phone at 5 AM. On the other end, Karina's voice was raspy from just waking up, still groggy. Chief Kim took a deep breath, trying to make his voice sound calm: "Ji-min, where are you now?"

Karina was stunned for a moment, then said: "In the dorm."

Chief Kim closed his eyes: "Can you come to the company? There are some things you need to explain."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end. Then Karina's voice became a bit clearer: "Is it about the Bubble live?"

Chief Kim: "...Yes."

Another silence. Then Karina said: "Understood, I'll head over right away."

Hanging up the phone, Chief Kim leaned against the wall and let out a long breath. This girl, does she know how much trouble she's caused?"}],

[part:gemini-3.1-flash-lite]

When Karina arrived at the company, it was 6:30 in the morning.

The sky was already bright, but the lights in the conference room were still on.

When she pushed the door open, everyone looked at her; their gazes held scrutiny, curiosity, admiration, and also helplessness.

She was wearing a simple sweatshirt, her hair tied up casually, and she wore no makeup, yet her skin was still as white as a peeled egg.

She stood at the doorway, bowed slightly, then walked in and sat down at the other end of the long table.

Park Jae-ji looked at her and spoke: "Karina, was yesterday's Bubble live stream planned by yourself?"

Karina nodded.

"Did anyone help you?"

Karina hesitated for a second.

That second was very short, so short it was almost imperceptible, but Park Jae-ji caught it.

"Yes," she said, "President Jiang Zhiyu helped me a little."

The conference room went quiet for a moment.

Jiang Zhiyu.

It was Jiang Zhiyu again.

The frequency with which this name had been appearing in the ears of SM Entertainment's upper management recently was high enough to cause a headache.

Park Jae-ji took a deep breath: "How did he help you?"

Karina thought for a moment and said: "He helped me design the format of the live stream and the style of the copy.

But the content was all written by me, and the photos were taken by me too.

He just watched from the side and occasionally offered some suggestions."

Watched from the side, occasionally offered some suggestions.

Park Jae-ji repeated this sentence in his heart and gave a bitter smile.

This "watched from the side" resulted in a hot search that swept the rankings.

Then, what would the effect be if he personally stepped into the field?

He did not continue to press, but instead changed to another question: "Why didn't you report it?"

Karina lowered her head and was silent for a few seconds.

Then she said: "Because I wanted to try.

If I had reported it, I probably wouldn't have been allowed to do it."

The conference room was silent again.

What she said was the truth.

This kind of boundary-pushing content would most likely be killed if reported.

But she still did it, and she succeeded.

Now the question was, what to do after succeeding?

Just as Park Jae-ji was about to speak, the door to the conference room was pushed open.

Kim Young-min stood at the door.

His expression was very calm, showing neither joy nor anger.

He walked in, sat down at the head of the table, his gaze swept across everyone, and finally landed on Karina.

"Ji-min," he said, "you go back and rest first."

Karina was stunned for a moment, then stood up, bowed, and turned to leave.

The door closed behind her.

Kim Young-min sat at the head of the table, expressionless.

He looked around the room and then spoke: "Who can tell me what exactly happened last night?"

No one spoke.

The conference room was so quiet that the ticking of the clock on the wall could be heard.

Kim Young-min looked at Chief Kim: "You are aespa's Manager.

When Karina went out yesterday afternoon, what did she tell you?"

Chief Kim's voice was somewhat strained: "She said... President Jiang invited her to dinner."

"'Dinner'?" Kim Young-min's voice rose by half a degree, "Do you know what she did last night?

Four hours of live streaming, 116 text posts, 56 selfies, 36 videos—and you're telling me she went to dinner?"

Chief Kim lowered his head, not daring to make a sound.

Kim Young-min took a deep breath and looked at the Public Opinion Department Director: "What about the data?"

The Public Opinion Department Director opened the folder in front of him and began to report.

"Karina's Bubble subscription count has increased from 3.2 million before last night's live stream to 5.8 million now.

She occupies eight of the top ten spots on the Korean hot search.

On China's Weibo hot search, she occupies three of the top five.

The search volume for 'Double-Skin Milk' and 'Flower Cake' in China has skyrocketed by over 2,000 percent.

The total volume of discussion on related topics has exceeded 500 million as of now."

With every number reported, the atmosphere in the conference room grew heavier.

When the words "500 million" fell, some people gasped softly, and some covered their mouths.

Kim Young-min was silent for a few seconds, then asked: "On our side, who approved this plan?"

Silence again.

The Artist Management Department Director spoke, his voice very soft: "President, this plan... did not go through company approval."

Kim Young-min's gaze suddenly turned sharp.

The Public Relations Department Director continued: "I have checked all process records.

In the review process for Bubble content, there is no filing for the content from last night.

All the photos, text, and videos that Karina posted did not go through company review."

"In other words," Kim Young-min's voice turned cold, "our artist, without the company's knowledge and without company approval, conducted four hours of live content broadcasting, triggering network-wide heat—and we knew nothing about it?"

No one dared to respond.

Kim Young-min's gaze swept across everyone's face and finally landed on the Promotion Department Director, Park Jae-ji.

Park Jae-ji was sitting in the middle of the long table, his expression very calm.

But if you looked closely, you would notice his fingers trembling slightly under the table.

Kim Young-min asked: "What does the Promotion Department think about this?"

Park Jae-ji took a deep breath and spoke: "President, I think this matter needs to be viewed from two perspectives.

First, looking at the results, Karina-xi's Bubble live stream achieved huge success, which we must acknowledge.

Second, looking at the process, content published without approval does indeed carry risks.

If any problems had occurred at that time, we would have been completely unable to respond in time."

Kim Young-min nodded: "So what is your suggestion?"

"First, immediately complete all procedural formalities and include this live stream in the company's official records.

Second, establish a special task force to study the replicability of this model.

Third—" he paused, "contact President Jiang Zhiyu to clarify the communication mechanism between both parties for similar projects."

Kim Young-min picked up his phone and dialed a number.

The phone rang three times before it was answered.

Jiang Zhiyu's voice came from the other side, sounding very good, perhaps even too good.

He said good morning to President Kim, his tone so lighthearted it was as if nothing had happened last night.

Kim Young-min took a deep breath, trying his best to make his voice sound less like he was gritting his teeth, and then asked President Jiang that they needed an explanation.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a second, and then Jiang Zhiyu laughed.

"Explain what?" His tone carried a hint of innocence, "It was just a small test.

I originally thought it wasn't a big deal, but the response was unexpected.

I was too busy being happy and forgot to tell you.

Definitely next time, definitely next time."

Kim Young-min's hand holding the phone tightened slightly.

A small test?

He glanced at the data in front of him—hot search sweeps, subscription surges, network-wide discussions—this is called a small test?

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but Jiang Zhiyu had already said he would pay attention next time, and then hung up.

Hung up.

Kim Young-min stared at the phone screen, silent for a long time.

In the conference room, no one dared to make a sound.

"A small test." Too busy being happy and forgot to say it.

Definitely next time.

This Jiang Zhiyu, was it intentional, or did he really forget?

No one knew.

But what everyone knew was—this storm had only just begun.

——

After the meeting, Park Jae-ji returned to his office, closed the door, sat in his chair, and stared at the ceiling for a long time.

Then he opened his computer and pulled up all the data from Karina's Bubble live stream—every piece of text, every photo, every video, he read through them carefully.

After finishing, he read them again.

After finishing the second time, he read them a third time.

When he finished the third time, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

In his mind, those words and images were still spinning.

"Guess what I'm going to do? It's not like I did it specifically for you."

"First time making dessert... Hmph, it will definitely surprise you."

"Just like my feelings."

"Just like cautiously treasuring my feelings for you."

"Just like when approaching you, if it's too fast, it will ruin everything."

He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling.

Jiang Zhiyu.

How exactly is this person's brain wired?

An entertainment company president who understands music, variety shows, movies, and now can even play with fan interaction in such a way.

Chinese, English, and Korean, girlfriend perspective, Tsundere persona, from Double-Skin Milk to Pavlova to Flower Cake—every detail was designed flawlessly.

He should be angry.

Karina is his artist, her Bubble content should have gone through the Promotion Department's review, but this time it completely didn't.

If those contents had any problems, if "Good night, my..." was maliciously interpreted, if "I like you" was taken out of context, the consequences would be unimaginable.

But he just couldn't get angry.

Because this plan was too beautiful.

So beautiful that even someone like him, who has done promotion for over a decade, had to admire it.

He thought of the plans he had made over the years, those mediocre comeback teasers, those routine topic marketing campaigns, those contents that always spun around in the safe zone.

It wasn't that they were bad, it was—not good enough.

Compared to this Bubble live stream, they were too far behind.

He suddenly felt a bit envious of Jiang Zhiyu.

Not envious of his talent, but envious of his freedom.

He could do what he wanted to do, take the risks he wanted to take, play outside the rules, without worrying about being held accountable, without fearing being fired.

But he couldn't.

He had a mortgage to pay, a family to support, and a lover who ran a coffee shop in Gangnam District—of course, no one knew about this.

He couldn't take risks, couldn't make mistakes, couldn't let the higher-ups think he was a freeloader.

But this time, he did nothing.

The plan wasn't made by him, the execution wasn't managed by him, the hot search wasn't pushed by him.

He was just sitting in the conference room after the event happened, staring blankly at the data created by others.

If President Lee Soo-man asked—"Did your Promotion Department participate in this?"—how would he answer?

"No, we knew nothing"?

Then what about his position?

His mortgage?

His family?

And his lover?

No.

He couldn't go on like this.

He had to prove himself, to prove that the SM Promotion Planning Department was not full of freeloaders.

He picked up the internal phone and dialed the department's extension: "Everyone, gather in the conference room in ten minutes.

Overtime today."

Hanging up the phone, he stood up and walked to the window.

Outside the window, the sky of Seoul was gray, but inside him, a fire was burning.

In the conference room, the employees of the Promotion Planning Department looked at each other.

"What's wrong with the Director?

Haven't seen him this motivated in a long time."

"Must be stimulated by Jiang Zhiyu."

"Who isn't?

That data, I'm envious just looking at it."

"Stop talking, let's get to work."

Park Jae-ji walked into the conference room, holding a marker, and wrote a few big words on the whiteboard—"Karina Bubble Live Stream Review".

"Everyone has seen what happened yesterday." his voice was calm, "Karina's Bubble live stream occupied eight of the top ten hot searches, Bubble subscription count increased by over two million, and it also swept the rankings on China's Weibo."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.

"Now, I want to hear your analysis.

Why was this plan successful?"

The conference room was silent for a few seconds.

Then someone raised their hand: "Because of the romantic feeling.

The tone of those copies was exactly like a girlfriend talking to her boyfriend."

Park Jae-ji nodded and wrote "Romantic Feeling" on the whiteboard.

"Anything else?"

Someone raised their hand again: "Because it's real. It's not that kind of meticulously designed perfection, but a reality with flaws. Flour on her hands, accidentally slipping up, blushing from shyness—all these things make people feel like she's genuinely chatting with fans, not acting."

Park Jae-ji wrote down "Real."

"And the three languages: Chinese, English, and Korean," another voice said. "Chinese fans will be very moved to see Chinese. Japanese fans will feel a sense of closeness when they see Japanese. Fans can feel this kind of sincerity."

Park Jae-ji wrote down "Multilingual." He looked at the three words on the whiteboard—Dating Vibes, Real, Multilingual—silenced for a few seconds, then turned around and looked at everyone.

"These three words are the core of this live stream." He paused. "Now, what we need to do is apply these three words to other artists."

The meeting room went quiet again. Some people looked at each other, some looked down at the table, and some looked like they wanted to say something but held back.

A young staff member spoke up cautiously: "But... there are very few idols who know how to cook."

Park Jae-ji looked at him and suddenly smiled. That smile stunned everyone, because Director Park rarely smiled. "Does it have to be the kitchen?" he said, his voice carrying a rare trace of patience. "Use your brains. Grasp the essence: Dating Vibes, understand? It's not about making desserts; it's about making fans feel like you are dating them. You can use any form. Cooking, drawing, playing the piano, reading, or even just sitting and chatting—the key is that feeling."

People in the meeting room started nodding.

"What about the copy?" another voice asked. "Karina's copy feels like she wrote it herself. If we write it for other artists, won't it seem unnatural?"

Park Jae-ji thought for a moment and said: "The framework can be borrowed, but the content must be personalized. Every artist has a different personality, and the Dating Vibes are different too. Some are Tsundere girlfriends, some are gentle older sisters, some are mischievous younger sisters—find their positioning, and then tailor it to them."

He wrote a few more words on the whiteboard—"Personalization," "Positioning," "Tailor-made."

Putting down the pen, he turned around and looked at everyone. "Now, I want each of you to come up with a plan. Within today. If you can't come up with one, no one leaves."

A chorus of wails rang out in the meeting room, but no one truly objected. Because they knew this was a battle. And SM Entertainment had to win this battle.

Just as SM Entertainment was holding intensive meetings, other entertainment companies in South Korea were not idle either.

JYP. In the high-level meeting room, Park Jin-young sat at the head of the table with a report spread out in front of him. The report was densely packed with data on Karina's Bubble live stream—number of texts, photos, videos, subscription growth, trending search rankings, popularity on Chinese Weibo, and the search growth for double-skin milk and flower cakes.

After reading the last page, he looked up at everyone present. "Who can tell me who came up with this plan?"

Someone said in a low voice: "It is said to be President Jiang Zhiyu of TG Entertainment."

Park Jin-young was silent for a few seconds. Then he smiled. That smile held admiration, helplessness, and a hint of indescribable fighting spirit. "It's this kid again." He shook his head. "Last time, that 'guardian of princess wonyoung' flame war turned the entire Korean entertainment industry upside down. This time, he comes with a Bubble live stream and single-handedly slaughtered the trending search rankings."

He paused and looked at everyone. "What do you think?"

The Planning Department Director raised his hand: "President, should we do something similar?"

Park Jin-young thought for a moment, then nodded: "Do it. But don't copy. Jiang Zhiyu's style is 'one person plans, everyone else is kept in the dark, explosive results.' We can't learn that; he is a genius, and we are not. But we can learn his train of thought—what do fans want? Fans want the feeling of being cared for. Grasp that, and it's enough. Make the arrangements. TWICE, ITZY, NMIXX—try it if there are suitable candidates."

Someone raised their hand: "But President, this model requires the artist themselves to have strong expression skills and the willingness to interact; it's not suitable for everyone..."

Park Jin-young waved his hand: "Then find the right people. It's not about making everyone do it; it's about letting the suitable ones do it."

The meeting room was quiet for a moment, and then a chorus of "Understood" rang out.

YG. The atmosphere in the meeting room was completely different from JYP. Executives sat on both sides of the long table with various expressions. Some looked serious, some looked indifferent, and some looked exhausted, as if to say, "Here we go again."

The Planning Department Director held a report and read the data from Karina's Bubble live stream. After reading, he looked up at Yang Hyun-suk, who was sitting at the head of the table. "President, what do you think?"

Yang Hyun-suk leaned back in his chair and was silent for a few seconds. Then he spoke: "The popularity is quite high."

"Can we copy it?"

The Planning Department Director was taken aback. Copy? Hearing this word come out of Yang Hyun-suk's mouth sounded awkward. But he still nodded: "If you say it's fine, then it's fine."

Yang Hyun-suk was silent for another few seconds. Then he shook his head. "BP are all cool girl concepts; they aren't really suitable for this kind of cutesy Dating Vibes."

The Planning Department Director asked cautiously: "Then... shall we look into it more?"

Yang Hyun-suk nodded: "Look into it more."

He stood up, picked up the report from the table, and walked toward the door. Reaching the door, he suddenly stopped and looked back. "However, that 'three languages' trick can be learned. BP has many overseas fans; from now on, include English with everything we post." After saying that, he pushed the door open and left.

The meeting room was quiet for a few seconds. Then someone asked in a low voice: "So... can we go home now?"

The Planning Department Director glared at him: "In your dreams. The President said 'look into it more,' not that we aren't doing it. Keep thinking of plans; no one is leaving until you come up with one."

The person shrank their neck and lowered their head to continue flipping through the report. But everyone knew that YG's "look into it more" often meant "forget it."

The executive turned and walked back to his office, and the door closed. Outside, the staff looked at each other, then silently mouthed the question: So... can we go home now? No one answered. But some had already started packing their bags. Soon, the sounds of footsteps, whispers, and elevator doors closing mixed together, echoing in the hallway. The lights at YG went out several hours earlier than at SM Entertainment.

CUBE Entertainment. The meeting was still ongoing, but the atmosphere was not great. "(G)I-DLE? Can they try it?" an executive asked.

A staff member opened their notebook: "Soyeon Unnie... might turn this into a serious music production live stream. Miyeon Unnie... could try it, but her style leans toward gentle, not Tsundere. Yuqi Unnie... is too lively; it might turn into a comedy live stream. Shuhua Unnie... might forget she's live streaming."

The executive rubbed their temples. "Then... is it possible to have them change their personas?"

The staff looked at each other; no one dared to answer. Changing personas is easier said than done. Will the fans accept it? Is the artist willing? Moreover, Karina's "Tsundere girlfriend" persona wasn't acted—it was a trait she already had, just discovered and amplified by Jiang Zhiyu. Forcing an imitation would only seem deliberate and awkward.

The executive sighed. "Just make a plan first. We'll talk if you can't."

The staff lowered their heads and began flipping through materials. But everyone knew deep down—this plan was unlikely to be created. Not because of a lack of ability, but because... they were not Karina.

Starship Entertainment. Jang Wonyoung's Manager was pacing back and forth in the meeting room, his face full of anxiety. "Can Wonyoung do this model?"

A staff member raised their hand: "Wonyoung's Bubble has always been very active, and fan interaction is also very good. But she is young; will there be controversy if she does a 'girlfriend' persona?"

Another staff member added: "And Wonyoung's style leans towards sweet and cute, not Tsundere. Forcing a change might make fans uncomfortable."

The Manager stopped pacing and was silent for a few seconds. "Then don't do a 'girlfriend' persona. Do a 'younger sister' persona. 'Older brothers and sisters, I'm doing this and that'—Wonyoung is very good at that tone."

The staff nodded and started taking notes. The Manager walked to the window and looked at the night view outside. Jiang Zhiyu... this man really stirred up the entire industry. From today on, all entertainment companies will rethink a question—what exactly can Bubble be used for?

HYBE. The meeting had already ended. But the executive didn't leave; he sat alone in the meeting room, with the review report of Karina's Bubble live stream on the computer screen in front of him.

He read it once, then read it again. Then he picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Hello, it's me. Tomorrow morning, gather all the label heads for an emergency meeting." He paused, his gaze falling on the "Tsundere Ji-min" entry on the screen. "We need to re-evaluate the value of Bubble."

A "Yes" came from the other end of the phone, and then it hung up. The executive leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. This industry is about to change. And the starting point of this change is a man named Jiang Zhiyu and a girl named Karina.

The reactions of other small and medium-sized entertainment companies were even more direct. Some companies released new Bubble live stream teasers that very afternoon—"XX's Sweet Kitchen, see you at 7 PM tomorrow!"

Some companies were even more ruthless, directly digging up old photos of artists making desserts and reposting them with new copy—"Do you remember? This is what I made for you last time~"

Other companies simply had their artists send a message in Bubble: "Senior Ji-min is so amazing, I need to work hard too~" and then did nothing else.

The ways of riding the trend were strange and varied, but the core was only one—whatever Jiang Zhiyu did, we do. Just copy, and that's it.

And in this nationwide trend-following craze, one person's name was mentioned repeatedly. Jiang Zhiyu.

The President of TG Entertainment, the man who planned the "guardian of princess wonyoung" flame war, the man who planned Karina's Bubble live stream, the man who gave SM Entertainment, JYP, and YG endless headaches.

Some say he is a genius, some say he is a madman, some say he is a marketing wizard, some say he is the biggest variable in Korean entertainment.

But no matter what others say, one thing everyone admits—he did it. One person, one live stream, changed the rules of the entire industry. From today on, fan interaction in Korean entertainment will never go back to how it was before.