415: Chapter 469 The Old Woman (3)

The car drove out of TG Entertainment's underground parking lot and merged into the evening traffic.

The sky in Seoul was dyed an ambiguous orange-red by the sunset, and streetlights lit up one after another, casting flowing shadows on the car windows. Jiang Zhiyu held the steering wheel, his gaze calmly fixed on the road ahead, his profile flickering in and out of the light.

Lee Tima sat in the passenger seat, acting quite well-behaved at first—fastening her seatbelt, placing her bag on her lap, and looking straight ahead properly.

But this state lasted for less than three minutes.

She turned her head and stared at Jiang Zhiyu's profile. That face, illuminated by the dim light of the dashboard and the neon lights passing outside, had distinct contours, a sharp jawline, and a high bridge of the nose. She stared for a few seconds, then her mouth slowly widened into a grin, and she let out an ambiguous "Hehe."

The laughter wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet cabin.

Jiang Zhiyu didn't react and continued driving.

Lee Tima let out another "Hehe."

Still no reaction.

She simply turned her whole body sideways, leaned against the seat, tilted her head to look at him, and wore a smile that made one's skin crawl.

"Oppa."

Jiang Zhiyu didn't respond.

"Oppa~"

Jiang Zhiyu's eyebrows twitched slightly, but he still didn't speak.

Lee Tima didn't care and started talking to herself, her tone carrying a dreamlike longing: "Aiya~ I haven't seen Joohyun Unnie in such a long time."

Jiang Zhiyu's fingers moved slightly on the steering wheel.

"The last time we met was when we were filming the collapsed daily life." Lee Tima rested her chin on her hand, her gaze drifting out the window, though she clearly wasn't admiring the scenery. "Joohyun Unnie was wearing a cream-colored knit sweater that day, with her hair down and no makeup, but her skin was glowing. She smiled at me when she saw me—Oppa, do you know? Joohyun Unnie looks incredibly beautiful when she smiles. It's like the melting of an iceberg, the feeling that spring has arrived."

Jiang Zhiyu didn't respond, but the car's speed seemed to slow down slightly.

Lee Tima continued, her tone becoming more and more dreamlike: "I really want to be hugged by her. Joohyun Unnie's embrace must be very warm, soft, and fragrant. Being held by her would surely feel like melting. Maybe she'd even give me a kiss—"

Jiang Zhiyu's mouth twitched.

Lee Tima didn't notice at all, or perhaps she did and didn't care, as she continued to immerse herself in her fantasy: "Joohyun Unnie's lips look very soft at first glance, that thin, pinkish kind. Kissing them must..."

"Lee Tima." Jiang Zhiyu finally spoke.

"Hmm?" Lee Tima blinked, looking innocent.

"Shut up."

Lee Tima curled her lip, but only stayed quiet for about five seconds.

"Oppa, what do you think Joohyun Unnie would be like if she were in a relationship?"

Jiang Zhiyu's grip on the steering wheel tightened.

Lee Tima didn't wait for his answer, or rather, she didn't intend for him to answer at all. She cleared her throat, and then—the acting began.

Her voice suddenly became sweet and cloying, like it was coated in a thick layer of honey, with the end of her words curling upward coquettishly.

"Oppa~ Oppa~ Saranghaeyo~"

Jiang Zhiyu's temple throbbed.

Lee Tima switched seamlessly, her expression changing from shy to serious and firm, her voice shifting from light to steady and powerful.

"I really love you."

Then she switched again, her eyes curving into crescents, her tone as bright as a spring breeze.

"Oppa is so amazing no matter what he does. I like you so much, Oppa~"

Jiang Zhiyu's hand was starting to turn white—his knuckles losing color from the force.

Lee Tima continued, even starting to improvise: "Oppa is so handsome today. Did you dress up specifically for me? Oppa, you smell so good. What perfume is that? Oppa, when you looked at me just now, my heart stopped—"

"Enough." Jiang Zhiyu's voice was as hard as a stone.

Three tones, three states, three personas. Each was performed vividly, each as precise as a scalpel—cutting accurately into the most sensitive, fragile, and untouchable parts of Jiang Zhiyu's heart.

Because he couldn't help but start to fantasize.

He imagined Bae Joo-hyun saying "Oppa~ Saranghaeyo" to someone else in that affected tone. He imagined her saying "I really love you" to someone else with that serious gaze. He imagined her saying "Oppa is so amazing no matter what he does, I like you so much" to someone else with that bright smile.

He imagined her being generous with her smiles toward someone else.

He imagined her kissing someone else.

Kissing someone else?

Jiang Zhiyu's knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. His knuckles seemed like they were about to pierce through his skin, clutching the leather-wrapped wheel tightly. The force was so great that the steering wheel made a faint "creak."

A storm was brewing in his mind.

Bae Joo-hyun.

Lee Tima's words just now were like sharp knives, accurately stabbing into a place in his heart he had always been unwilling to touch.

What would Bae Joo-hyun be like in a relationship?

He didn't know.

He had never seen her smile at anyone—except for her younger sisters, except for the staff, except for those social smiles required in professional settings. But her truly heartfelt, unreserved smile, he had never seen.

Would she smile at someone else like that?

Would she say "Saranghae" to someone else?

Would she say "I really love you" to someone else in that serious, firm, and affectionate tone?

Would she praise someone else? Would she say "Oppa is so amazing no matter what he does" to someone else with that bright, light, and brilliant smile?

Would she kiss someone else?

Jiang Zhiyu's breathing hitched slightly.

Kissing.

Bae Joo-hyun's lips.

Very soft.

Lee Tima had just said her lips looked very soft.

Deep in Jiang Zhiyu's pupils, something constricted sharply.

She would kiss someone else.

She would kiss.

Someone else.

An image involuntarily surfaced in his mind—Bae Joo-hyun standing slightly on tiptoe, her hands lightly resting on a man's shoulders, her head tilted back, eyes closed, lips slightly parted—

The man's face was blurred, but that posture, that intimate, trusting, and unreserved posture—

Jiang Zhiyu's fingers tightened suddenly, and the steering wheel let out a sharp "creak."

I'm going to kill that bastard.

This thought popped up without any warning, like a beast breaking free from its cage, instantly occupying his entire consciousness. It wasn't a joke, it wasn't an exaggeration, it wasn't the light tone of "I'm just kidding." It was real, cold, and carried a killing intent that almost overflowed.

He imagined that blurred man. Imagined those hands resting on Bae Joo-hyun's waist. Imagined those lips pressing against Bae Joo-hyun's. Imagined Bae Joo-hyun smiling at that person, saying "Saranghae" to that person, showing that person the unreserved tenderness he had never seen—

He would chop off that person's hands. Tear that mouth apart. Gouge out those eyeballs. And then completely erase that person from this world.

Such thoughts came surging in without a hint of hesitation, without a hint of self-doubt, not even a hint of reflection like "Am I going too far?" It was pure, direct, and primal, like a beast asserting its territory.

Bae Joo-hyun.

Is mine.

It didn't matter if she was like Baek Ji-xin, it didn't matter if she gave me a cold face, it didn't matter if she hid from me, avoided me, or pretended not to see me—

She is mine.

Anyone who dares to touch her must die.

This thought wasn't a rational judgment, not an emotional confession, not the childish declaration of "I like you, so you're mine." It was etched into his bones, written into his instincts, more natural than breathing—

Possessiveness.

Pure, absolute, and unquestionable possessiveness.

The temperature in the car seemed to drop to sub-zero in an instant.

This wasn't a metaphor. It was real, physical cold. That cold didn't blow out from the air conditioner but radiated from Jiang Zhiyu—an invisible something that could make a chill seep into one's very marrow. His expression remained calm, one could even say there wasn't a single ripple. But it was precisely this calmness that was more hair-raising than any roar.

That calmness was the peace before a storm, the stillness before a leopard's pounce, the silence before the arrival of the Grim Reaper.

Lee Tima's laughter came to an abrupt halt.

She felt it. Not heard, not seen, but felt—a chill seeping from the marrow of her bones, as if countless ice needles were stabbing into her skin simultaneously. That killing intent had no clear source, no specific form, and didn't even have a targeted direction, but it was there, permeating every corner of the car like an invisible net, trapping her firmly.

She felt like a prey being watched by a predator.

[part:gemini-3.1-flash-lite]

That beast was sitting right beside her, less than half a meter away.

His eyes were fixed ahead, his expression as calm as if nothing had happened.

But the aura radiating from him made every cell in Lee Tima's body scream—Danger! Don't move! Don't speak! Don't attract his attention!

It was an aura that seemed ready to devour anyone.

It was like a sleeping tiger that had suddenly opened its eyes.

It didn't roar, didn't bare its fangs, and didn't even move a muscle.

But the cold light in those eyes was enough to send a chill down the spine of any living creature.

Lee Tima's back was pressed tightly against the seat, her hands unconsciously gripping the seatbelt.

Her breathing became shallow and rapid, like a frightened little animal, afraid of making even the slightest sound.

She didn't even dare to turn her head to look at Jiang Zhiyu's face because she was afraid of seeing what was surging within those eyes—things she shouldn't see and didn't want to see.

The car was terrifyingly quiet.

Only the low hum of the engine and the sound of the wind outside remained.

Those sounds, usually ignored, were now infinitely amplified, beating against her eardrums like drumsticks.

Then, Jiang Zhiyu spoke.

His voice wasn't loud; one could even say it was very soft.

But that softness wasn't the softness of gentleness, but the softness when the calm before a storm is broken.

Every word was like a block of ice, crashing down from the air and striking Lee Tima's heart.

"If you don't speak, no one will mistake you for a mute."

His tone was blunt, carrying a trace of suppressed anger.

That anger was like magma beneath a volcano—clearly boiling to the extreme, yet pressed down by a thin layer of rock, ready to erupt at any moment.

Lee Tima's body shuddered violently.

She dared not move, dare not speak, and didn't even dare to breathe heavily.

She was like a frog being watched by a snake, sitting there stiffly, her mind a blank.

Her acting skills were completely useless at this moment—not because she wasn't acting well, but because the fear was too real, so real that all acting became superfluous.

She didn't need to act; she was truly afraid.

Jiang Zhiyu's killing intent was not locked onto her.

She could feel that the cold aura was not directed at her.

It was more like an indiscriminate energy radiating outwards, and she was only affected because she was too close.

But even so, that sense of oppression was enough to make her heart stop beating.

What if it were locked onto her?

Lee Tima didn't dare to think about it.

She had seen many sides of Jiang Zhiyu.

She had seen his gentle side, smiling as he ruffled her hair and asked, "Tima, what do you want to eat today?"

She had seen his helpless side, sighing after she exposed his embarrassing stories in the group chat and saying, "What are you up to again?"

She had seen his serious side, drawing various project proposals on the whiteboard, his eyes shining as if they held stars.

She had seen his exhausted side, leaning against the back of his chair with his eyes closed, a trace of fatigue between his brows.

But she had never seen him like this.

This version of Jiang Zhiyu made her feel like he was a stranger.

No, not a stranger. It was terrifying.

It was the kind of bottomless, spine-chilling terror.

The car remained quiet.

Jiang Zhiyu's gaze remained fixed straight ahead, his expression still as calm as a mirror.

But deep within those eyes, something was surging—like magma, like an undercurrent, like a beast that had been imprisoned for too long, searching for an exit.

He thought of Bae Joo-hyun's face, which was always cold toward him.

That face that looked so much like Baek Ji-xin's.

The woman who had made his heart race from the first time they met.

Would she smile in front of others? Yes.

She would smile gently in front of her younger sisters, like the spring sunshine.

She would smile politely in front of staff members, like all proper idols.

She would show that sweet, heart-fluttering smile in front of fans.

But in front of him, she was always cold.

Not anger, not disgust, but coldness.

That kind of coldness was more despairing than any other emotion.

Because anger at least meant caring, and disgust at least meant there were feelings—but coldness meant there was nothing.

It meant that in her heart, he didn't even qualify to cause an emotional fluctuation in her.

She could smile at others.

She could be gentle with others.

She could—not be stingy with her smiles for others.

What if she acted coquettishly toward others?

What if she said "Oppa~ Saranghaeyo" to others in that cutesy tone?

What if she looked at others with that serious gaze and said, "I really love you"?

What if she bloomed with that smile he had never seen for someone else?

What if she kissed someone else?

Kissing?

Jiang Zhiyu's fingers tightened abruptly, his knuckles making a crisp clicking sound.

The steering wheel was gripped so hard by him that it was almost deforming.

That killing intent became even thicker.

It was so thick that even the neon lights outside the window seemed to dim, and the air inside the car became viscous.

It wasn't anger, it wasn't jealousy, but something deeper, more primitive, and more unreasonable.

Possessiveness.

Pure, unadorned, beast-like possessiveness.

Bae Joo-hyun must be mine.

This thought hadn't appeared for the first time, but it had never been as clear, as intense, and as unquestionable as it was now.

Whether it was because she looked like Baek Ji-xin, or because her temperament, which resembled his ex-girlfriend, made him unable to let go, or whatever the reason—there was only one result.

Bae Joo-hyun, must be mine.

She could not smile at others.

She could not be gentle with others.

She could not act coquettishly toward others.

She could not kiss others.

Cannot.

He said in his heart.

I do not allow it.

As soon as this thought emerged, he himself was stunned for a moment.

Not allow it?

By what right?

He and Bae Joo-hyun were nothing to each other.

She gave him the cold shoulder, and he avoided her.

The two of them couldn't even maintain a normal conversation for a few sentences, so by what right could he "not allow it"?

But he just didn't allow it.

It wasn't his reason that didn't allow it.

It was instinct.

It was that kind of possessiveness carved into his bones, impossible to explain with logic.

She looked like Baek Ji-xin.

Bae Joo-hyun's profile looked like hers, Bae Joo-hyun's eyes looked like hers, and Bae Joo-hyun's aloof temperament looked like hers.

He didn't know if he really liked Bae Joo-hyun, or if he was just looking for the shadow of Baek Ji-xin in her.

This uncertainty made him painful.

And it also made him paranoid.

He had used this excuse for a long time.

Every time his heart raced when he saw Bae Joo-hyun, and every time he felt agitated because of her coldness, he would tell himself—because she looked like Baek Ji-xin.

But today, those words from Lee Tima shattered this excuse of his.

It wasn't because she looked like her.

It was because she was Bae Joo-hyun herself.

The Bae Joo-hyun who had made him unable to look away from the first time they met.

The Bae Joo-hyun who had looked at him with a cold gaze in the conference room.

The Bae Joo-hyun who stretched alone in the practice room, her profile looking so much like Baek Ji-xin.

That—Bae Joo-hyun whom he wanted to get close to, but didn't dare to.

He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

His fingers loosened slightly.

Lee Tima curled up in the passenger seat, not daring to breathe heavily.

Her gaze was fixed tightly on the road ahead; she didn't dare to turn her head, didn't dare to look at the rearview mirror, and didn't even dare to blink.

She was afraid that any unnecessary movement would break this fragile balance and let that sleeping tiger truly awaken.

She suddenly remembered something.

Last time on Jeju Island, she saw Jiang Zhiyu and Kim Taeyeon confronting each other on the balcony under the moonlight.

At that time, she was hiding in a corner, peeking, and saw the look in Jiang Zhiyu's eyes when he looked at Kim Taeyeon—that complex look, carrying restraint and forbearance.

She thought that was his deepest emotion.

Now she knew she was wrong.

Those restraints, those forbearances, those complexities—they were just because the object was different.

Toward Kim Taeyeon, he had patience, gentleness, and careful protection.

But toward Bae Joo-hyun, what he had was something more primitive, more instinctive, and more unreasonable.

That thing was called obsession.

Lee Tima silently added a new label for Jiang Zhiyu in her heart.

Not "Genius CEO," not "Talented Planner," not "The Man Most Wanted to Marry"—but "The Person You Absolutely Must Not Provoke."

Absolutely not.

The car continued to travel through the streets of Seoul.

The neon lights outside the car window flashed past one after another, casting flickering light and shadows on Jiang Zhiyu's profile.

His expression was still calm, but the undercurrent beneath that calmness was enough to devour everything.

At the traffic light intersection, the car stopped.

Jiang Zhiyu's fingers tapped the steering wheel twice, the rhythm neither fast nor slow, as if he were calculating something.

His gaze remained fixed straight ahead, but the light in those eyes was completely different from before.

That light was the look of a hunter locking onto its prey.

Calm, precise, without any unnecessary emotion.

Lee Tima peeked at him from the corner of her eye, then quickly withdrew her gaze.

She thought silently in her heart: "Joohyun Unnie, you'd better pray for your own luck today."