456: Chapter 509 continues the story.

By the time the meeting ended, the sunlight outside the window had already slanted to the west.

Kim Taeyeon glanced at her phone; it was 3:41 PM.

The meeting had lasted nearly five hours, with two breaks in between.

Jiang Zhiyu's voice was a bit hoarse; he coughed several times during the meeting, picked up his water glass to take a few sips, and his voice became somewhat muffled through the microphone.

He had gone through every page of the PPT, from musical style to visual presentation, from promotional strategy to execution scheduling.

Nothing was missed, no pages were skipped, and every slide was explained in such detail that Kim Taeyeon felt as if he were speaking only to her, rather than to the dozen or so people in the conference room.

People in the conference room began to pack up their things.

The planning department staff closed their notebooks, stacked their documents neatly, and shoved them into their briefcases.

The music production team unplugged their USB drives from the computers, twirled them in their hands for a moment, and slipped them into their pockets.

The visual design team held the thick stack of proposals in their arms with the covers facing outward; the words "Kim Taeyeon Personal Project" were particularly striking under the lights.

The Manager from SM was already checking his watch, likely calculating the time needed to get from here to the next scheduled activity.

The promotional team was whispering to each other, and the representative from the artist management team was adjusting his tie.

Jiang Zhiyu stood up from his seat, stacked the documents in front of him, and placed them on the corner of the table.

His gaze swept over those who were leaving and finally landed on one person.

Kim Taeyeon stood on the other side of the conference table, slowly putting her notebook into her bag, as if she were stalling for time.

Her fingers paused on the zipper of her bag before pulling it shut.

Jiang Zhiyu wanted to say something—his lips parted, his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, and that syllable was already prepared.

His eyes rested on her face, but her eyelashes were lowered, and she was not looking at him.

There were still others in the conference room.

The section chief of the planning department was saying something to Kim Soo-yeon, the music production team was waiting for the elevator at the door, and the visual design team was discussing something down the hall.

The SM Manager was whispering with Kim Taeyeon's assistant; those people occasionally glanced over, their gazes carrying no special meaning, but it was enough to keep the conversation between the two of them within the realm of "strictly business."

Jiang Zhiyu swallowed the words "Noona."

"Taeyeon-xi, thank you for attending the meeting today."

His voice was neither high nor low; every word was spoken in the tone he usually used in the conference room—steady and clear.

"For the subsequent coordination, we will be liaising with the SM planning department. If you personally have any thoughts, you can also contact me; I am generally—twenty-four hours online."

The pace of those last five words was a bit slower than the rest, as if held back by something.

Kim Taeyeon's eyelashes fluttered.

She looked up at him; his expression was that standard smile that would not go wrong in any business setting, the curve of his lips perfectly balanced—neither too distant nor too close.

She really wanted to tell him—actually, she wanted to try another way, the concept of "courage" that Lee Tima had spoken about.

It wasn't about starting over while carrying everything from the past, but the all-or-nothing courage to leave everything behind and set off anew.

She really wanted to say that she didn't want to compromise anymore, didn't want to sing those songs within her comfort zone.

Those songs were good; the listeners liked them, the company was satisfied, and the results were decent.

But she had sung them so many times, so many that every lyric felt etched into her muscle memory, and she could sing them without thinking.

What was she thinking about when she sang? Nothing at all.

Her mind was blank, her mouth opened and closed automatically, and the sound slipped out of her throat on its own.

She really wanted to, as Lee Tima had put it, "re-acquaint herself with this world as if reborn."

Not the world of "Kim Taeyeon," not the world of the "Girls Generation leader," but her own world.

She really wanted to say that she hoped to change—from her bones, from her blood, from every cell—she hoped she would no longer be that Kim Taeyeon who only knew how to sing "If" and "Fine."

But she couldn't say anything.

The words reached her throat, but she felt too guilty to make a sound.

It wasn't that she "dared not say it," but that she "didn't know how to say it."

The words spun in her throat like a stuck piece of candy, neither going up nor coming down.

She wanted to say "Zhiyu, I want to try a different way," but those three words "Zhiyu" already crossed the line.

In this setting, he was "President Jiang" and she was "Kim Taeyeon."

Not "Zhiyu," not "Noona."

That feeling of being stuck in limbo made her feel extremely tormented inside.

Her heart felt completely hollow, like standing on the edge of a cliff looking down, with fog beneath her feet where she couldn't see the bottom.

She nodded. "Yes. Thank you for your hard work."

Her voice was very soft, so soft that it was like a feather drifting down from the sky, landing on the ground without a sound.

Jiang Zhiyu clearly sensed that something was wrong with her.

Her expression showed nothing unusual, and the curve of her lips even turned up slightly.

But he had known her for so long; he understood her micro-expressions too well—when she nodded, the angle of her chin was a bit lower than usual.

When she said "Yes," her lips remained pursed for a fraction longer than usual.

These details were things only he could see.

He stood there, tapping his finger lightly on the edge of his folder.

He wanted to say, "Noona, what's wrong?" and wanted to ask, "Is something on your mind?"

But there were others in the conference room; the planning department section chief hadn't left yet, Kim Soo-yeon was still there, the SM Manager was still there, and those people occasionally glanced over.

This kind of setting was not private; with SM and TG employees present, he and Kim Taeyeon only needed to maintain professional courtesy, not show special concern.

Excessive forms of address, like "Noona" or "Zhiyu"—or intimate contact—would only invite gossip.

Kim Taeyeon was not Karina, not Kim Minjeong.

With Kim Minjeong, he could treat her like a younger sister, affectionately patting her head or hugging her.

With Karina, he could speak words of concern without hesitation.

Because everyone knew Jiang Zhiyu had a good relationship with aespa, so good that any degree of closeness wouldn't be strange, and no one would overthink it.

But Kim Taeyeon was different; because she was a great senior, someone who needed to be respected, his business partner, and someone with whom the lines needed to be clearly drawn.

"Goodbye," he said. Then, taking his folder, he turned and left.

His pace was neither rushed nor slow, the sound of his leather shoes hitting the floor fading from near to far, quickly disappearing at the end of the corridor.

Kim Taeyeon stood where she was, watching his back disappear from the doorframe.

Her lips moved, but the "goodbye" got stuck in her throat and didn't come out.

The assistant walked over and whispered, "Taeyeon-xi, the car has arrived." She nodded and followed the assistant out of the conference room.

The corridor was long, with light spilling down from the ceiling, casting uniform halos of light onto the gray carpet.

When she walked past the variety show planning department, the door was open, and Lee Tima's voice drifted out—"Revise that design draft again, the colors aren't popping enough!"

She didn't look inside as she passed; she was afraid that if she saw Lee Tima's bright, sparkling eyes, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from asking—"Tima, how do I possess the kind of courage you talked about?"

The elevator door opened, she stepped in, and her assistant followed behind her.

The doors closed, and the numbers jumped from six to one.

She looked at her reflection in the elevator door; her silhouette was distorted by the metal texture, making it impossible to see her expression clearly.

Kim Taeyeon walked out of the TG Entertainment building.

The security guard at the entrance bowed to her, and she bowed back to the guard.

The car was parked at the entrance—black, understated, with no logo.

The assistant opened the car door, and she got in.

The sound of the car door closing was dull and solid, and her world quieted down.

She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes.

In her mind was the look Jiang Zhiyu had given her at the end—that gaze which had lingered on her face for less than a second, containing so much, yet also nothing at all.

In the Seoul spring, the sky still darkened very early.

Streetlights lit up one by one, dragging ribbons of orange light across the car window glass.

She opened her eyes, watching the street scenes rapidly receding outside the window—those streets, buildings, and pedestrians she was familiar with, unfamiliar with, and had seen countless times.

She suddenly felt that this city was huge—so huge that she couldn't find anyone to talk to; yet it was also very small—so small that at any time, in any place, she could see his shadow.

—

In the living room of the aespa dormitory, the light was a warm yellow, spilling evenly from the recessed lighting strips in the ceiling.

On the coffee table were a few magazines, an opened bag of potato chips, two half-finished cans of cola, and Lami's charging dock.

The purple Lemm was currently lying on Kim Minjeong's lap, with an "= =" emoticon appearing on its body surface—it was not interested in this meeting.

Kim Minjeong sat in the very center of the sofa, her back straight, holding a notebook in her hand.

The notebook was pink, with a cartoon puppy sticker on the cover; above the puppy's head were the words "Important Matters," traced several times with a highlighter, and decorated with stars and hearts.

She had held that posture for nearly ten minutes, her expression serious, as if she were about to convene a state meeting concerning the survival of the nation.

Ningning sat cross-legged on the other side of the sofa, holding a cup of cola, stirring it with a straw.

Her gaze swept over Kim Minjeong's "Important Matters" notebook, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.

Karina sat to Kim Minjeong's right, also holding a cola; her posture was more relaxed than the others, but her eyes were serious.

Uchinaga Eri sat at the other end of the sofa, clutching a pillow in her arms, her gaze fixed on the gray, hazy sky outside the window.

Kim Minjeong took a deep breath.

"Regarding the 'How aespa Should Face Lee Tima's Evil Planning for the First Formal Variety Show Collaboration with TG Entertainment Without Zhiyu Oppa' Meeting—"

She finished reading it in one breath, then caught her breath. "Now, begin."

Ningning's fingers paused on the cola can. "Unnie, do you really have to pick such a long name?"

Her tone was that calm, "I am asking a serious question" type.

Kim Minjeong glared at her. "Ningning! You don't understand, the longer the name, the cooler it is, right? Japanese anime is all like that nowadays. Isn't that right? Karina Unnie?"

She turned her head to look at Karina.

Karina thought for a moment. "Maybe. But a long name is indeed better."

She paused. "That 'Anti-Wonyoung Princess Alliance' from before was abbreviated to 'Anti-Wonyoung Alliance,' and didn't Jang Wonyoung's fans end up having internal conflict with them later? Just because of the ambiguity of the name."

She picked up her cola and took a sip. "So, a longer name at least won't cause misunderstandings."

[part:gemini-3.5-flash]

Uchinaga Eri poked her head out from behind the throw pillow, her expression carrying the calmness of "I have a question." "Minjeong-ah, I'm Japanese, you know? Why are you asking Ji-min?" Her eyebrows twitched slightly as she stared unblinkingly at Kim Minjeong.

Kim Minjeong froze for a moment. "Unnie, do you watch anime?" Her tone sounded as if she was trying to confirm something.

Uchinaga Eri thought about it. "Not really." Her answer was very honest.

Kim Minjeong spread her hands, making a "there you go" expression. Uchinaga Eri let out a few embarrassed chuckles and shrunk her face back behind the throw pillow.

Kim Minjeong flipped to the first page of her notebook. That page was densely packed with words, with key points highlighted in different colors of highlighters. She cleared her throat, and the dry cough sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet living room. "I think none of us want to experience the tragic state of (G)I-DLE!" Her tone was firm.

Uchinaga Eri poked her head out from behind the throw pillow again. "But they didn't seem to have it that bad, did they?" Her tone was calm. "Although it was a bit rough at the beginning, didn't they end up playing with the production crew later on?"

Kim Minjeong's expression froze. Her lips twitched several times, but the word "but" got stuck in her throat, unable to form a coherent reply. She quickly flipped past the first page, her eyes landing on the second page as she pretended not to hear Uchinaga Eri's words.

"And surely none of us want to experience a derogatory nickname like Ji-min Unnie's 'Pig 51'!" Her voice rose by half a pitch.

Uchinaga Eri's voice drifted out from behind the throw pillow again. "So you're just ignoring me because you can't win the argument, huh?" Her tone was still that calm "I'm just stating facts" tone. Then she paused. "Also, Ji-min's 'Pig 51' might indeed have been Zhiyu Oppa's plan. But if it weren't for your livestream, Minjeong—" Her gaze shot out from behind the throw pillow. "It wouldn't have appeared at all, let alone become like this, where the whole world knows Ji-min has such a derogatory nickname."

The living room fell silent for a brief moment.

Karina's eyebrows twitched slightly. The movement was tiny, but the look shooting from the corner of her eyes made a thin layer of cold sweat break out on Kim Minjeong's back.

Ningning looked up from her cola can, her large eyes sparkling. "Minjeong Unnie, so you're actually the mastermind behind the 'Pig 51' project!" Her tone carried a sense of wonder as if the truth had finally been revealed.

Kim Minjeong's eyes quickly darted to Karina beside her. Karina had her head down, her bangs obscuring her eyes, making it impossible to read her expression. At that moment, Kim Minjeong's brain worked at the speed of light. "Pig 51 is already in the past!" Her voice was frantic and fast, her speaking speed nearly twice as fast as usual. "The most important thing right now is—" Before she could finish her sentence.

"Minjeong-ah." Karina's voice drifted over from beside her, neither loud nor soft. Kim Minjeong shut her mouth. "Are you saying that it's fine as long as I'm the only one in aespa with a derogatory nickname?" Karina looked up at her, a light in her eyes—not of anger, but of "I'm teasing you."

Kim Minjeong's eyes widened like brass bells. "Unnie! How could you think that? We, aespa, are a whole!" Her voice rose by another half-pitch as she bounced up from the sofa. Lami slid from her lap onto the sofa, and the purple Lemm bounced once on the couch, opened its eyes to glance at Kim Minjeong, and then closed them again.

NingNing's voice drifted over from the side, her tone carrying the calmness of "I'm reminiscing." "Minjeong Unnie used the 'guardian of princess wonyoung' account to insult Ji-min Unnie before, and it was really sarcastic. Even I couldn't bear to say those things." She took a sip of cola. "But Unnie seemed super happy about it."

Uchinaga Eri stared at NingNing's "innocent" face from behind the throw pillow. She silently thought to herself—NingNing, you're not exactly an innocent kid either. She was complaining inwardly, but her face remained completely expressionless.

Kim Minjeong's eyes widened. "Ya! Ningning!" Her voice was sharp and frantic.

Karina let out a few chuckles from her throat. The laughter wasn't loud, but it made Kim Minjeong feel as if she had been struck by something. Her legs went weak, and she slid down from the sofa to squat on the carpet, covering her ears with both hands. Her entire being radiated an aura of "I know I was wrong, so can you guys please stop talking?"

Karina swept a cool glance over her. "Continue." Her tone was calm.

Kim Minjeong scrambled up from the carpet and sat back on the sofa. Her posture went from "stiffly erect" to "properly seated," but her voice was noticeably lower, like a puppy whimpering after being scolded by its owner.

"First, we need to find Lee Tima's weakness." Her voice squeezed out from the depths of her throat.

Ningning leaned in to look at the notebook in her hand. "Unnie, does Tima even have a weakness?" Her tone carried the curiosity of "I'm seriously asking."

Uchinaga Eri's voice drifted out from behind the throw pillow. "Lee Tima is a total little maniac." Her tone was calm. "Maybe the more fiercely we resist, the more excited she gets."

Karina's lips twitched. "Eri-ah, remove the 'maybe'." Her voice was neither loud nor soft.

The living room fell silent for a moment. Then Ningning giggled, her laughter soft as she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. A faint curve appeared at the corner of Uchinaga Eri's lips as she poked her head out from behind the throw pillow. Kim Minjeong silently flipped to the next page of her notebook.

"We need to design resistance secret codes!" Her voice had a bit more confidence than before.

Ningning tilted her head and thought for a moment. "Unnie, if we're designed to act separately, or if we need to—" She paused. "If we have to betray each other, will the secret codes still be useful?"

Karina's eyes widened, her gaze sweeping across Ningning's face. "Ningning-ah! The variety show hasn't even started, and you're already planning to betray us?" Her voice rose by half a pitch.

Uchinaga Eri chimed in. "A total mole of aespa!" Her tone was calm. "We all need to watch out in the future."

Ningning shrank her neck back. "I was just asking..."

Kim Minjeong thought for a moment and silently flipped another page.

"Next is—our advantages." Her finger tapped on the notebook.

Ningning raised her hand. It was as fast as a buzzer round, her arm stretched straight up, fingers together, palm facing forward. "I can speak Chinese!" Her voice was crisp and loud.

Karina's lips twitched. "Ningning, you're Chinese to begin with!" Her tone was a helpless "what kind of nonsense are you talking about."

Ningning argued righteously, "If Tima designs some segment about Chinese culture or Chinese language, that will be my advantage! She can't possibly know Chinese better than me, can she?" Her chin lifted slightly.

Uchinaga Eri's voice drifted out from behind the throw pillow. She said a sentence in Chinese—"Eating grapes without spitting out grape skins, not eating grapes but spitting out grape skins." Her Chinese sounded awkward, with crooked tones, but she pronounced every word very clearly.

The living room fell silent. Kim Minjeong stared at Uchinaga Eri, her mouth slightly agape. Karina looked at Uchinaga Eri, her eyebrows raised slightly. Ningning stared at Uchinaga Eri, her cola can frozen at her lips, forgotten.

Being stared at by the three of them, Uchinaga Eri silently hugged her throw pillow tighter. "Well, my concept is a Xenoglossist." Her voice was very quiet.

Kim Minjeong's face suddenly changed. Her mouth fell open, and she let out a loud shout—"Ah, shiba! I forgot! This is a Kwangya-concept variety show!"

Karina's voice exploded from beside her. "Ya! No swearing!"

Kim Minjeong shrank her neck. "Sorry..."

NingNing's voice drifted over from the side, carrying a hint of "I'm doomed too" despair. "Aish, what should we do?" That "Aish" was spoken very softly.

"Ya! NingNing!" Karina's voice rose by another half-pitch.

The living room quieted down. Kim Minjeong looked down at the dense writing in her notebook, the entries for "weaknesses," "secret codes," and "advantages" blurring before her eyes. She found that the more she looked at the words, the more unfamiliar they became, like symbols she didn't recognize.

Outside the window, the sky changed from gray-blue to dark blue. The streetlights turned on, their orange light leaking through the gaps in the curtains. Lami was still sleeping on the sofa, the "" emoticon floating on its body surface remaining unchanged.

Kim Minjeong closed her notebook. "Are we overthinking this?" her voice was very soft.

Ningning looked up from her cola can. "Overthinking?"

"Maybe Lee Tima isn't that scary. Maybe she just wants to play with us. Maybe—" Kim Minjeong's voice grew smaller and smaller, "maybe she just looks like a little devil but is actually a good person."

Karina looked at her. "Are you sure?"

Kim Minjeong fell silent. She recalled a clip from (G)I-DLE's kid-themed variety show—Lee Tima standing behind the monitor, the curve of her lips exactly the same as Jiang Zhiyu's. Her back went cold again.

"Not sure," her voice was as quiet as a mosquito's buzz.

Uchinaga Eri poked her head out from behind the throw pillow. "Anyway, the four of us are together. No matter what Lee Tima designs, we'll face it together." Her tone was calm.

Karina held out her hand. Ningning placed her hand on top, Kim Minjeong followed, and Uchinaga Eri was the last. Their four hands stacked together, like a flower bud ready to bloom.

"aespa, fighting," Karina said.

"Fighting—" the other three followed.

Kim Minjeong's hand was on top, her fingers trembling slightly. Not out of fear, but anticipation. Outside the window, the Han River flowed in the night, unhurriedly. The streetlights' glow shattered on the water's surface into fragments of fine light. The meeting regarding the "evil planning" had ended, but the real battle had yet to begin. At this moment, Lee Tima was probably huddled in the office of the TG Variety Department, flashing that same evil smile as Jiang Zhiyu at her computer screen. She didn't know, and she didn't care. She only knew that no matter what Lee Tima designed, the four of them would be together. That was enough.