440: I'm experiencing writer's block in the previous chapter (493).

Christmas 2021. It snowed in Seoul—not a heavy snow, but fine and dense, drifting from the gray sky, landing on the covers of streetlights, on the shoulders of pedestrians, and on the glass curtain wall of the TG Building in Gangnam District. The coffee shops along the street were decked out in red decorations, with fake snow pasted on the windows, and the air was filled with the scent of cinnamon and mulled wine, drifting into one's nose bit by bit in the cold wind.

At ten in the morning, Park Jin-young's "Back to the Future" MV was officially launched.

It wasn't just an MV—it utilized TG's latest virtual VR technology, taking one's breath away from the very first shot: Park Jin-young of the 1980s stood in a retro recording studio, wearing a leather jacket and holding a microphone; with a flash, the same man appeared in a neon-lit cyberpunk city, holographic projections flowing over his silver tight-fitting suit. Those visuals weren't made with special effects; they were real-time virtual scenes, rendered in real-time as actors wearing VR glasses performed in front of a giant LED screen. In the MV, Park Jin-young ran through an alley in 1985, through a city in 2015, and through the future of 2049. His face changed from youthful to weathered as the eras switched, but the same fire always burned in those eyes. The entire k-entertainment industry was shaken, with reviews calling it a landmark MV, full of futuristic vibes, saying Park Jin-young had been revitalized and that TG's technology was too powerful. "Park Jin-young Back to the Future MV" topped the hot search list.

This Comeback also heralded the official formation of a comprehensive partnership between TG and JYP. It wasn't just "cooperation," but a "partnership," ranging from music production to variety show planning, from artist management to brand operations, and from technology R&D to overseas expansion—JYP was present in every field TG ventured into, and TG's assistance was behind every challenge JYP wanted to overcome. The industry began to talk, and those big companies that once looked down on TG started to re-examine this young enterprise, while those still watching from the sidelines, like CG Entertainment, also began preparing internal cooperation seminars. The conclusion was that TG, as a multi-faceted auxiliary entertainment company, did not limit cooperation with multiple companies—it was a neutral, open platform willing to achieve win-win results with everyone. Rumors were already circulating in the industry: "In the future, TG Entertainment will be the mainstay of k-entertainment."

Jiang Zhiyu was not interested in those rumors. TG Entertainment's current development had long since ceased to be limited to the entertainment industry; starting from a few years ago, its investment map had quietly extended to real estate, catering, clothing, jewelry, and agricultural technology. Some of those projects were profitable, some were breaking even, and some were still losing money, but every one of them laid a foundation on his chessboard.

Development within South Korea was limited. Signs of a bubble economy in the real estate industry had begun to appear since last year, with housing prices soaring, young people unable to afford homes, and various government policies showing little effect. Although the country clung tightly to the United States externally, its own development was limited by geographical factors, necessitating the search for another development route to mobilize national enthusiasm. Simply put, it needed a powerhouse to create another Miracle on the Han River. TG's development speed was extremely fast, reaching in just two or three short years a scale that took others five, six, or even ten years. Of course, this wasn't just due to multi-industry development; more so, it was due to the favor of the political world and certain unspeakable reasons—names that couldn't be mentioned, contracts that couldn't be disclosed, and meetings that had no records.

The rooftop herb garden of TG Entertainment. Today's sunlight was bright, shining on the glass greenhouse and spilling through those transparent panels to spread a warm golden hue across the floor. The herbs stretched their leaves under the sun, and the air was filled with a crisp fragrance—mint, rosemary, and some unnamed plants, their stems and leaves appearing exceptionally green in the sunlight.

Today was a day off. Aside from the departmental staff who had to work shifts, there were only the regular cleaning ladies in the company. The entire building was as quiet as a piano with its mute button pressed. Kim Soo-yeon lay on the sofa, resting with her eyes closed. She was wearing a white sweatshirt, her hair was loose, and her face was without makeup; as the sunlight fell on her, that indifferent, detached aura that made people afraid to approach melted away, making her look like an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl napping in the afternoon sun.

Jiang Zhiyu sat cross-legged on a wooden bed nearby, meditating. His back was straight, his hands rested on his knees with his thumbs and index fingers lightly touching, palms facing upward. His breathing was slow and long; every inhalation seemed to draw sunlight into his lungs, and every exhalation seemed to expel the turbid air from his body. The surrounding herbs swayed gently to the rhythm of his breathing, as if in response.

"An agreement has been reached regarding the cooperation matters previously discussed with the Chinese side," Kim Soo-yeon spoke. Her voice wasn't loud, as if she were talking about something very mundane; her eyes remained closed, her eyelashes casting a small fan-shaped shadow on her eyelids. "They hope we can go to discuss the details of the cooperation and the possibilities for future collaboration."

Jiang Zhiyu did not speak. The rhythm of his breathing did not change.

"Also, the implementation of that plan is progressing smoothly. According to the feedback, historians and collectors have already begun investigations." Her fingers tapped lightly twice on the armrest of the sofa. "Our preparations are thorough, but words alone aren't enough. If we hold it back until 2023, I'm afraid there won't be much hype left."

Jiang Zhiyu's eyebrows twitched slightly. The movement was brief, but his breathing rhythm changed—the inhalation was a bit faster than usual, and the exhalation was a bit slower. He took a deep breath, pulling that breath up from his dantian, through his chest, through his throat, and slowly exhaling it from his nose. He opened his eyes.

"The cooperation with China is set for around April. I will go there a month in advance." His voice was calm, as if arranging an ordinary business trip. "By the way, ask the Chinese partners; I hope to bring a team over for a team-building activity, ideally staying for a week."

Kim Soo-yeon opened her eyes and tilted her head to look at him. "TWICE?"

Jiang Zhiyu nodded. "I need to go to the mountains once; I need to find a reason."

Kim Soo-yeon didn't press further—going to the mountains, gathering herbs, meditating, absorbing the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. She lay back on the sofa, closed her eyes, and kept this in mind.

"As for the jewelry promotion plan, proceed as you said. Do it ahead of schedule." Jiang Zhiyu's gaze fell on the pot of mint on the windowsill, its leaves swaying gently in the wind. "Minjeong's birthday is coming up, so it'll be her."

Kim Soo-yeon's tone wasn't strictly business-like; instead, it carried a bit of schadenfreude. "Kim Minjeong is lucky." Those words "is lucky" were said meaningfully, with a sense of "I know what you're planning."

Jiang Zhiyu did not answer. He closed his eyes again. His breathing returned to its rhythm.

Sunlight spilled down from the top of the glass greenhouse, falling on the two of them. Kim Soo-yeon lay on the sofa like a cat warmed by the sun, her entire silhouette soft. Jiang Zhiyu sat cross-legged on the wooden bed like a tree rooted in the soil, not bending when the wind came, not bowing when the rain fell. The entire herb garden was as quiet as a painting, with only the leaves of the herbs rustling in the wind.