438: Chapter 491 Can't Laugh

The night wind from the Han River blew over the water, carrying the chill peculiar to early winter and a faint, fishy scent. The light of the streetlamps shattered into fine, glittering specks on the river's surface, swaying gently with the waves like scattered gold dust. The riverside path was crowded; voices, laughter, and footsteps blended together, accompanied by the sound of the iron griddle frying tteokbokki at a distant street stall and the bubbling of fish cake soup. The air was filled with the aroma of spicy sauce and fried food.

Her phone vibrated. Jang Wonyoung had been standing in the crowd for quite a while. She was wearing a milky-white long down jacket with a fluffy fur trim around the hood, which made her face look as small as a palm. A light gray scarf was wrapped around her neck several times, covering half her face and revealing only her eyes and the bridge of her nose. Those eyes blinked rapidly above the scarf, reflecting the streetlamp light that had shattered across the surface of the Han River. She was surrounded by people: to her left was a young girl holding a glow stick—it was pink and had a name she didn't recognize stuck on it; to her right was a couple, the man with his arm around the woman's shoulder, the woman holding a steaming cup of coffee; in front of her was a fansite master holding a professional camera, lens pointed at the sky, waiting for something. An Yujin stood beside her, wearing a black long down jacket, hood down, her hair somewhat messy from the wind. Kim Gaeul was next to An Yujin, standing on tiptoe and peering toward the plaza. Liz was huddled inside her down jacket, showing only her eyes. Rei was wearing headphones, listening to who knows what. Leeseo was holding Tami, that water-blue, jelly-like creature emitting a faint blue light in her arms.

Jang Wonyoung took her phone out of her pocket; the caller ID on the screen read "Pervert K". She took a deep breath before raising the phone to her ear—the breath was so deep her chest expanded. Her fingers were trembling.

"Wonyoung-ah! Are you there?" Jiang Zhiyu's voice came through the receiver, carrying a certainty of "I know you must be there."

Jang Wonyoung's mouth moved faster than her brain. "Where?" She regretted it the moment she said it.

"By the Han River, of course!" Jiang Zhiyu's voice held a smile. "I always keep my word; you're definitely going to top the search rankings tonight!"

The corners of Jang Wonyoung's mouth twitched. The shame of being "seen through" and the stubbornness of "I refuse to admit it" surged up at the same time. She straightened her back, raised her chin slightly, and feigned indifference. "I'm not! I'm at the dormitory." Every word emphasized "I am really not there." "You want me to go, so I go? I'll go if I feel like it!" After saying this, she guiltily shrank her neck and deliberately let out a "Hmph."

Jiang Zhiyu was silent for a moment. The silence was very brief. "Oh—then get some good rest at the dormitory. The performance today was prepared for you; it's a pity if you can't see it." The voice drifted through the receiver. Jang Wonyoung bit her lip.

Not far away, the dark matrix of drones over the plaza began to stir. First, a few lights turned on, then a section, then another, and finally, hundreds of lights lit up simultaneously, merging into a brilliant sea of light in the night sky. The crowd let out low gasps of amazement. Those points of light rose slowly into the night sky, like a swarm of startled fireflies floating up from the ground toward the deep blue firmament. They arranged themselves and moved in the air, forming an image.

The first thing to appear in the sky was her own face. It was a photo, not one taken recently—it was a poster from her survival show days, wearing a school uniform with twin tails, her smile bright to the point of being silly; that was her at thirteen. Jang Wonyoung's pupils reflected that face, and her mouth opened wider. Then the photo switched; it was a selfie from the Practice Room—no makeup, hair messy, with a pimple patch still on her face. She felt like something had struck her brain at that moment; her entire train of thought came to a halt. It was a behind-the-scenes photo from the IZ*ONE era, she was sitting on the floor, hair disheveled, stuffing a rice ball into her mouth. It was also a daily life photo from before her debut—lounging on the sofa, Tami lying on her stomach, hair uncombed, expression blank.

Jang Wonyoung's face turned red rapidly. The redness started from the base of her neck and spread upward, passing her chin, her cheeks, reaching her earlobes. Her fingers gripped her phone, her knuckles turning white; her mouth opened and closed.

"Shibal! These are all dark histories!" she screamed frantically in her heart. Where did these photos come from? How could Jiang Zhiyu have these photos? These photos were stored on her phone and had never been sent out. How did he get them? Was there a virus he implanted in her phone? Was he monitoring her all along? Countless thoughts flashed through her mind, each one making her back go cold.

The photos in the sky continued to switch. The aquarius saintess—that was her classic look in the twelve star envoys》, with a 400,000 won mineral water bottle on her head, wearing a water-blue constellation Cloth, hands spread out with a benevolent expression. She felt she must have been possessed by something to have made that expression; her current expression was exactly the same as in that photo—she wanted to find a crack in the ground and hide in it. That photo stayed in the sky for a long time, a full five minutes; she stared at that photo and felt like five years had passed. From idol, from green to mature, from nervous to composed. Every photo was her; every stage of her had been recorded.

Then the photo finally switched, changing to An Yujin. Jang Wonyoung let out a sigh of relief and turned to look at An Yujin beside her. Her expression was the same as hers just a moment ago—mouth wide open, eyes wide, face as red as a cooked shrimp. From the survival show era to before the IVE debut, various behind-the-scenes photos, selfies, daily life photos, and the classic look from the twelve star envoys》—the "Pisces Saintess" with a water bottle on her head. The corners of An Yujin's mouth twitched several times, then she reached out and waved in the air, as if to disperse the photos. "Yah! Jiang Zhiyu! Where did you get these photos!" Her voice was sharp and urgent, but no one heard it because the screaming around them was louder.

Jang Wonyoung looked at her breakdown. Finally, it wasn't just her suffering; next was Kim Gaeul. Her photos started playing from the survival show era, Practice Room no-makeup photos, behind-the-scenes clips, daily selfies, the look from the twelve star envoys》; Kim Gaeul covered her face. When Liz's photos played, Liz buried her face in Kim Gaeul's shoulder. When Leeseo's photos played, Leeseo huddled into An Yujin's arms. When Rei's photos played, Rei looked up at the sky with a blank expression, the kind of "I knew this would happen" nonchalance.

Jiang Zhiyu's voice came from the phone receiver. "Please keep walking on the flower path in the future too! Jang Wonyoung xi, happy debut!" The voice was neither high nor low.

He said "Jang Wonyoung xi," not "Wonyoung-ah," not "our Wonyoung," but "Jang Wonyoung xi." That form of address carried a kind of solemnity, formality, a sense of ritual as if announcing some important news.

Jang Wonyoung opened her mouth to say something, but her throat felt blocked by something, unable to make any sound. Her eyes were hot, her nose felt sour, and her lips were trembling. She bit her lip, swallowing the "Thank you" back.

"By the way, don't rush to leave later." Jiang Zhiyu's voice rang out on the other end of the phone again, but this time it wasn't to her. He seemed to be covering the microphone and talking to someone next to him—the voice was muffled. "Bring all the drones down. This test found quite a few problems; the technical team has organized them and will fix them." His voice became clear again. "The fireworks start at nine o'clock. Anyway, it's Starship's money, so keep the 'eight-foot bead' for the middle—" The mention of "eight-foot bead" was said so lightly and airily, like talking about a toy. "Speaking of which, is the eight-foot bead really that expensive? One firework is a car, huh." He seemed to sigh. "And is the 'IVE debut' fireworks text definitely okay?" He paused. "As long as it's fine."

Jang Wonyoung listened to the sound of him arranging work on the other end of the phone, and his image surfaced in her mind—standing at some high place, the wind blowing his coat up, one hand holding the phone, the other gesturing in the air, his brows slightly furrowed, the corners of his mouth carrying a hint of "I'm working seriously." She bit her lip.

"Wonyoung-ah—check who is number one on the search rankings? I always keep my word, you know."

Jang Wonyoung opened her phone. The number one on the search rankings was "IVE debut successful," second was "Jang Wonyoung universe female 1 debut," third was "IVE Han River drone performance," fourth was "IVE debut song ELEVEN," fifth was "Jang Wonyoung dark history photos"—that entry made the corners of her mouth twitch. The top ten search terms were all IVE. the crab, Park Jin-young, and aespa winter limited from the day, were all pushed down. Her fingers swiped across the screen, those entries sliding past under her fingertips one by one.

"Are you crazy?" Her voice was soft and hoarse.

Jiang Zhiyu laughed. "Yeah."

In the distance, the first firework exploded. It wasn't the kind of small, tentative firework, but the kind of huge, long-tailed firework that bloomed in the night sky. Golden-yellow, like a blooming chrysanthemum, its petals stretching outward, opening layer by layer, finally turning into thousands of light spots falling slowly. The crowd boiled over; cheers, applause, and whistles mixed together, shaking the air slightly. The second and third followed into the sky, red, green, blue, purple, each leaving a different shape in the night sky. Circles, stars, hearts, meteors.

A huge firework rose into the sky. It exploded in the night sky into the letters "IVE," golden, large, blindingly bright, lingering in the night sky for a few seconds. The crowd's cheers reached their peak.

Jang Wonyoung looked up at the three letters. The light of the fireworks reflected on her face, flickering. Her eyes were hot.

Leeseo cheered beside her, Tami jumped out of her arms and bounced onto Jang Wonyoung's shoulder, a line of text appearing on its body surface—"Happy debut, Princess Wonyoung!" Jang Wonyoung extended her index finger and poked Tami's head, the corners of her mouth curling into an arc.

The firework show lasted for a full thirty minutes. The eight-foot bead appeared in the middle; this giant firework, known as "one firework, one car," rose into the sky and exploded at the highest point. The light was so bright that the entire Han River was dyed gold, so bright that the distant Namsan Tower was overshadowed. The crowd let out a huge gasp of amazement.

Jang Wonyoung looked up at the night sky illuminated by the fireworks. Those lights shattered into fine, glittering specks in her eyes. The corners of her mouth held an arc; she didn't know when it had curled up, but it could no longer be put down.

An Yujin looked at the sky, her eyes red, tears welling up but held back from falling. Kim Gaeul was already crying, Liz was crying too, Leeseo was hugging Liz and crying, and Rei was handing out tissues with a blank expression.

Jang Wonyoung reached out and caught a spark falling from the sky. The spark landed in her palm, cool, and extinguished immediately. She pulled her hand back, looking at the almost invisible trace in her palm. Her phone vibrated. She looked down—a message from Jiang Zhiyu, just one sentence.

"Today's stars are all yours."