43: Chapter 43 Oh my god!

Jiang Zhiyu thought for a moment, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. His gaze shifted from Taeyeon's face to the camera, a curve forming at the corners of his mouth. "For this question, I think we should let Red Velvet answer it themselves." His voice wasn't loud, but it was clear. "How about we invite Red Velvet as special guests next time?"

Taeyeon's voice rose. "Don't make decisions on your own! This is my show!"

Jiang Zhiyu looked at her. "Taeyeon Noona is still too hesitant! You have to go for a direct hit!" He raised his fist, making a "fighting" gesture, arm straight, fist clenched, as if throwing a straight punch. His expression was serious, so serious it felt like he was talking about something very important.

Taeyeon looked at the fist held in mid-air and fell silent. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

"...You win."

Jiang Zhiyu smiled. He lowered his fist, cleared his throat, and his voice shifted from "teasing" to "formal."

"Of course, as the person in charge of this album, what I want to say is—'Iracebeth' is the Red Queen's real name. At the beginning of the concept discussion, we continued the concept that Red Velvet wants to express in every comeback."

His speaking pace was neither fast nor slow, like he was giving a formal report.

"In August 2014, Red Velvet's debut song 'Happiness'. The concept at that time was 'color', not 'hue', but 'color'. Red represents passion, green represents stability, yellow represents vitality, blue represents melancholy. Four colors, four emotions, one person can possess all emotions simultaneously. Not 'positive' or 'negative', but 'all'."

He paused and continued.

"In March 2015, 'Ice Cream Cake'. Double title tracks, the other was 'Automatic'. Starting from this song, Red Velvet's 'two-sided' concept was officially formed. One side is 'Red', lively, bright, and full of vitality. One side is 'Velvet', soft, mature, and carrying a hint of mystery."

His finger drew a line on the table, from left to right.

"In 2015, 'Dumb Dumb'. This song is about the fear of 'replicas'. Not 'imitation', but 'being copied'. You work hard to become the perfect idol in others' eyes, but you realize—you are just a product on an assembly line. The packaging is the same, the expression is the same, even the curve of the smile is the same. You are not you, you are 'it'."

Taeyeon didn't speak. She looked at him, at his calm side profile that showed no emotion. A voice in her heart was saying—he really understands Red Velvet. Not just "understands their songs," but "understands what they want to say."

Jiang Zhiyu continued.

"In March 2016, 'One of These Nights'. This was Red Velvet's first attempt at a lyrical ballad. On the surface, it's 'longing', but in reality, it's 'pain'. Not 'I miss you', but 'You are gone, what should I do'." His voice softened a little. "In September 2016, 'Russian Roulette'. This is Red Velvet's 'prank' concept. Not 'I hate you', but 'I like you, but I'm afraid to say it, so I have to tease you'."

His speaking pace sped up a little.

"In February 2017, 'Rookie'. It talks about the confusion of a 'rookie'. Not 'inability', but 'not knowing which direction to go'. You have the ability, you have the talent, you have the passion. But no one tells you—what you should do."

Taeyeon's finger tapped lightly on the table.

"In July 2017, 'Red Flavor'. The taste of summer. Not 'watermelon', not 'ice cream', but 'when I'm with you, I'm happy even if we do nothing'."

There was a curve at the corners of his mouth.

"In November 2017, 'Peek-A-Boo'. This was Red Velvet's first attempt at a 'dark' concept. Not 'horror', but 'the unknown'. You don't know what's behind the door, you don't know if I will open the door, you don't know—if I really like you."

"In January 2018, 'Bad Boy'. This song is about the charm of 'danger'. Not 'I am a bad person', but 'you think I'm a bad person, but you can't help wanting to get close to me'."

"In July 2018, the Red Velvet - Irene & Seulgi sub-unit debuted with 'Monster'. This song combined the 'Red' and 'Velvet' concepts. Not 'Red' and not 'Velvet', but 'Red Velvet'. Sweet yet dangerous, soft yet sharp, like a rose with thorns."

Taeyeon looked at him for a long time. She suddenly felt—that meeting him was Red Velvet's stroke of luck.

Jiang Zhiyu paused, picked up his milk tea, and took a sip. Full sugar, sweet enough to make his throat feel cloying. He put down the cup and continued.

"As for this album, why use a dark fairy tale style? It's actually because of Red Velvet's more varied group concept. After watching the members' performances while watching the live-action movie 'Alice in Wonderland', and receiving their feedback of over five thousand words—we decided on Irene as the core concept character 'Red Queen', Wendy as the 'Magic Mirror' metaphorizing the Red Queen's childhood, Seulgi as the 'Mad Hatter', Joy as the 'Cheshire Cat', and Yeri as the other protagonist 'Alice'."

His gaze shifted from the camera and landed on Taeyeon's face.

"Performing the songs and MV from multiple perspectives. What we want to embody is—that family education should be guided, not command-based or suppressive. Not 'you should do this', but 'what do you think you should do'. Not 'you must do this', but 'why do you think that way'. Not 'you're wrong', but 'we can find a better way together'."

Taeyeon added, "If you want to embody that, the singing style should lean towards opera, right?"

Jiang Zhiyu shook his head. "Quite the opposite. When we were discussing songwriting, we leaned more towards electronic music and a strong Rap style. The high notes will be assigned to Wendy."

Taeyeon nodded. "Okay, thanks to Producer Jiang for answering the question. I'm also looking forward to Red Velvet's comeback this time." She glanced at the screen and read the next message.

"The next fan question is—what does Zhiyu xi think of Z?" She paused, raised her head to look at Jiang Zhiyu, her eyes carrying a hint of teasing. "Oh? Is that the Z who writes songs for IU?"

Only SM and Loen knew Jiang Zhiyu was Z. There were rumors outside, but nothing confirmed. Taeyeon knew, Jiang Zhiyu knew, the director didn't know, the sound engineer didn't know, the listeners didn't know. She was waiting for his answer, waiting to see how he would praise himself without revealing his identity.

Jiang Zhiyu met Taeyeon's gaze and read the meaning in her eyes—"Let me see how you praise yourself." He rubbed his nose.

"Z is the creator of five songs on IU's album, so his talent goes without saying. I've also listened to those songs, they are excellent." He paused, a curve at the corners of his mouth. "However, on the current music charts, Taeyeon Noona seems to be at the top. There is still room for improvement."

The corners of Taeyeon's mouth twitched. Not a "cramp", but "suppressing a laugh". This person didn't forget to step on himself while praising himself, not "step on", but "balance". Saying Z is good, saying Taeyeon is also good. Saying Z isn't good enough, saying Taeyeon isn't good enough. Offending no one, offending no one.

Jiang Zhiyu continued, "Since we're talking about IU, let's listen to 'the blue night of jeju island'."

He reached out and tapped the mixing console lightly. The sound engineer in the control room understood and pushed the fader up. The intro started, the B-flat long note on the piano, like a drop of water falling into a deep pool, ripples spreading out in circles.

Kim Taeyeon leaned back in her chair, watching Jiang Zhiyu. He had his head down, writing something on a document. His expression was calm, so calm that no emotion could be detected. But she knew he was listening. Listening to his own songs, listening to the melodies he had written, listening to those notes he had penned. She suddenly felt that this man was terrifying. Not "terrifying," but "formidable." Formidable enough to write songs for others while writing for himself, writing for IU while writing for Red Velvet. Formidable enough to arrange everything just right. She didn't know how he did it. She only knew that he was doing it.

The music in the studio flowed slowly. The long B-flat note of the piano was like a drop of water falling onto the surface of a deep pool, ripples spreading out in circles. Then came a series of broken chords, then the strings, and then IU's voice. It wasn't "singing," it was "talking." Telling a story about the blue night of jeju island. Her voice was very soft, so soft it was as if she didn't want to wake anyone. Yet it was very clear, so clear that every syllable was as transparent as if it had been washed by water.

Kim Taeyeon leaned back in her chair, listening to IU sing her song. She had to admit, one could tell it was an IU song the moment they heard it. Just hearing the intro, the thought "Ah, this is IU's, right?" would pop into one's mind. Not "like," but "is." It was her song, from the very first note. This quality of "belonging to only one person" wasn't written; it was grown. Like a tree, the seed falling onto that land, taking root, sprouting, branching out, and leafing. You listen to it, and you know where it comes from.

She couldn't help but look at Jiang Zhiyu. He was sitting next to her, that document spread out in front of him, a pen in his hand. But the nib wasn't touching the paper; it was hovering less than a centimeter above the surface, motionless. His gaze wasn't on the paper either, but on the succulent on the table. The succulent was chubby, its leaves light green, with a hint of pink at the tips. He was looking at it, but his eyes had no focus. Not "looking," but "spacing out."

Kim Taeyeon asked in a low voice, "What's wrong?" Her voice wasn't loud, soft enough that only the two of them could hear.

Jiang Zhiyu shook his head. "Nothing." His tone was very flat, so flat that it was as if he were saying, "The weather is nice today." He didn't want to say that he was still thinking about the lyrics for the new album, he didn't want to say he had revised it a dozen times and wasn't satisfied with any of them, he didn't want to say that his head was full of Bae Joo-hyun's face, making it impossible for him to think normally. He didn't want to say it, so he shook his head.

Kim Taeyeon looked at him, not pressing further. She knew he was lying because his eyes weren't here. He was somewhere else, in the Red Velvet practice room, in front of the whiteboard, in front of those few words — "Iracebeth," "Family Education," "Inner Fortress." His body was in the studio, but his heart was at SM. She withdrew her gaze and continued listening to the song. IU was still singing, singing about the blue night of jeju island, singing about the moonlight falling on the sea and shattering into pieces of silver light, singing about someone sitting by the sea, holding a guitar, thinking of someone else. Listening, she suddenly felt — this song wasn't written for IU. It was written for someone. But that someone wasn't IU.

The radio program reached its end. In the second half, Jiang Zhiyu turned back into that "Kim Taeyeon Unit 2." He laughed and joked to liven up the atmosphere, and his occasional answers to fan questions were hilarious. Someone asked, "What is Zhiyu-xi's favorite food?" He said, "Hanwoo, because I can't afford it, so I prefer when others treat me to it." Someone asked, "What is your most proficient instrument?" He said, "My mouth, because I can talk, sing, beatbox, and imitate Taeyeon-sunbaenim." Someone asked, "When will you be on the show again?" He said, "When Taeyeon-sunbaenim treats me to Hanwoo again." Kim Taeyeon let out an "Hey!" from the side.

Unlike previous guests who often touched on sad or sentimental emotions, the whole show remained a happy and harmonious atmosphere. No one cried, no one choked up, no one bowed their head in silence. Only laughter, laughter, and more laughter. Jiang Zhiyu threw a joke, Kim Taeyeon caught it. Kim Taeyeon threw a joke, Jiang Zhiyu caught it. The two were like playing ping-pong, back and forth, the ball never hitting the ground. The listeners were also brought along to laugh; the message board flooded from "hahahaha" to "I'm dying of laughter," from "I'm dying of laughter" to "Taeyeon-sunbaenim, please control him," from "Taeyeon-sunbaenim, please control him" to "Can't control him, absolutely can't control him."

The ratings hit a new high. The director was in the control room watching the real-time data, his mouth stretching to his ears. He didn't speak, but he gave two thumbs up. Once for Kim Taeyeon, once for Jiang Zhiyu. Two thumbs up, raised high, so high they looked like two flags being raised.

The show ended. Kim Taeyeon took off her headphones and let out a long sigh. She leaned back in her chair, turning her head to look at Jiang Zhiyu. He was organizing the documents on the table, stuffing that scrap paper version of the Red Velvet verse lyrics into a kraft paper envelope, his movements slow, as if doing something that didn't need to be rushed.

"Jiang Zhiyu, let's go for a meal." Kim Taeyeon's voice wasn't loud, but it was clear.

Jiang Zhiyu's hand paused. Not "stopped," but "slowed." He slowed for a moment, then tucked the envelope away and placed it on the table. "Noona, I can't go today."

Kim Taeyeon blinked. "Why?"

Jiang Zhiyu didn't answer. He looked at the succulent, at its chubby leaves, at that little bit of pink on the tips. He suddenly felt that it was very much like someone. Not "like," but "reminded him of." Reminded him of her cheeks, the flush of pink that appeared when he said "small body, big energy." He withdrew his gaze.

"I'm going back to SM."

Kim Taeyeon looked at him, not asking him "what are you going back for." She probably guessed it. He was going back to find Karina and the others, not "find," but "see." To see them, listen to them talk, watch them laugh, and find those things he couldn't find from their whimsical ideas. He was stuck and needed someone to help him open the door. She wasn't that person, but they might be.

"Then go." Kim Taeyeon's tone was very flat, so flat it was as if she were saying, "Take care on the way."

Jiang Zhiyu stood up and pushed his chair back into place. "Noona, thank you for your hard work today."

"You too."

He picked up the documents and turned to walk toward the door. When he reached the door, he paused. He didn't look back. "Noona, the Hanwoo was delicious. I'll treat you next time." Kim Taeyeon watched his back, the corners of her mouth curving. "Okay."

Jiang Zhiyu walked out of the studio. The lights in the hallway were warm yellow, falling onto the floor like a path leading to the exit. He walked along this path, his pace neither fast nor slow, the distance of every step about the same. His shadow was stretched very, very long, cast on the wall like someone hurrying on their way. He was hurrying, hurrying back to SM, to see Karina and the others. Not "find," but "see." To see them, listen to them talk, watch them laugh, and find those things he couldn't find from their whimsical ideas.

The thoughts of young girls are whimsical. They would say, "Oppa, this is delicious," they would say, "Oppa, that looks good," they would say, "Oppa, look at this new dance I learned," they would say, "Oppa, why aren't you smiling?" They wouldn't say, "The emotion in this version of the verse isn't full enough," they wouldn't say, "The melody's progression is too predictable," they wouldn't say, "You should be a bit deeper." They would only say things that could be said without using one's brain. But sometimes, words that don't require using the brain are the most useful words. Because your brain is resting, your heart is working. The heart is different from the brain; the heart doesn't analyze, doesn't reason, doesn't judge. The heart only feels. If the feeling is right, it's right. If the feeling is wrong, it's wrong. No explanation needed. That was what he needed — "no explanation needed." His brain had analyzed long enough. He needed to let his heart speak.