Chapter 112 "Are you sick?" Lin Shan...

"Are you crazy?" Lin Shan paused for a moment, then turned to look at her: "What are you apologizing for?"

“Ren Xiyao. This isn’t like you. How could you have such a cowardly idea of ​​seeking peace?” Lin Shan interrupted her.

The night wind outside the window, carrying the heat of early summer, rushed back into the dormitory and hit my face. One by one, the lights at the training base in the distance went out. Silence spread, and I didn't know how much time had passed. Suddenly, a soft laugh echoed in the dim light.

Lin Shan's voice, tinged with laughter, came through the phone: "Do you still remember the first time we met?"

Ren Xiyao was taken aback: "U series"

Lin Shan sighed speechlessly and said, "I knew you had no memory. It was the locker room at the winter training camp. You got into a fight there, remember?"

Ren Xiyao vaguely recalled an old incident. Back then, she had just switched sports. Her performance was mediocre. In addition, the children in the winter training camp were generally quite young, and some of them were mischievous and liked to touch other people's skates. Ren Xiyao was used to being alone when she practiced figure skating. So she felt a little out of place in that group atmosphere, and someone picked a fight with her: "That's because they poured cola on my skates."

She was young and hot-blooded at the time, and was furious when she saw it. She flew into a rage, smashing her helmet directly into one of the children's back. She grabbed another by the hair and started beating him. She beat up three children. If the parents of the other three children hadn't been sensible and realized their children had gone too far, Ren Xiyao might have been in serious trouble. Of course, she was still punished afterward; it was fortunate she wasn't expelled.

Lin Shan, having somehow acquired a bottle of mineral water, shook it around: "I sat there watching, thinking, 'This girl is really fierce, taking on three people all by herself.'" She paused: "So later, when we were competing with the U series, I secretly brought you a steamed bun."

Ren Xiyao remembered that it was minus twenty degrees Celsius that day, and she had just finished competing in the 1500m. Lin Shan was squatting in the equipment room waiting for her, carrying two pork and cabbage dumplings, the steam making her eyelashes wet.

“So you see,” Lin Shan nudged her shoulder, “it’s been me who took the initiative from then on.”

Ren Xiyao stared at her hands: "But this time is different."

"What's different?"

“The Winter Olympics are coming up soon.” Ren Xiyao’s voice tightened: “You could have gone to Pingcheng.”

"Ren Xiyao, have you lost your mind? You don't think that if you don't give others leverage or excuses, they'll never bother you, do you? 'A common man is innocent, but possessing a treasure is a crime.' What you, Ren Xiyao, did is unimportant. What matters is your existence! Your achievements! You're blocking their way!" Lin Shan became increasingly angry, unable to suppress her voice or her fury. This wasn't the first time Lin Shan had witnessed something like this, but now that it was her best friend's turn, the helplessness, the anger mixed with fear and worry, pushed her emotions to the brink of spiraling out of control.

She took a deep breath, suppressing her surging emotions, and continued, "Those accusations of returning home late are utter nonsense. As for accepting bribes, that's a trumped-up charge. As for reporting your trip abroad, you did report it; your provincial reporting procedures were completely complete."

"In other words, the real price you should pay is for the violations during overseas training. To put it bluntly, back then we were all training with the clubs, meaning the decision on whether to punish someone and what kind of punishment to give should have been made by the clubs. We were, after all, athletes from commercial clubs, and overseas training at that time was essentially a commercial collaboration. When we weren't with the national team, the management wasn't strict to begin with. This is completely different from the strictness and intensity of overseas training and competition management at the national level or other provincial teams. In other words, if we really look into it, we should have followed the club management regulations back then. Why did the Winter Sports Management Center suddenly overstep its bounds? If you followed the club management regulations, you would have had your bonuses and allowances deducted, and at most, you would have received a public reprimand. Now they insist on punishing you according to the national team management regulations, but even if we just consider the specific circumstances, most of the time it would be a warning, deduction of bonuses and allowances, record of disciplinary violations, cancellation of awards and commendations, a written self-criticism at a conference, and a public reprimand. Of course, there were suspensions, bans, and even expulsions from the national team, but those were violations of doping control regulations, accepting private commercial performances, or other illegal activities that caused serious consequences."

"But what about now? A real-name report! They even set up a special team to investigate, directly checking your personal belongings. Isn't that an exaggeration? Let me put it bluntly. Haven't the people from Lan Hai done this before? Their men's team members privately contacting fans, the women's team members fighting and ganging up are a dime a dozen. During training camps, and even during competitions, the men's team members bringing their girlfriends into and out of hotels... Do I need to list them all? Many times, all they want is a reason. Do I need to tell you that? Like when the captain was expelled from the national team, was he really that unforgivable? Why are they using your mistakes at the club to bring you down from the national team? The real reason is probably that the women's team won zero gold medals in the 2013 Winter Games. Only those who are truly hurt know."

Lin Shan finished speaking indignantly. Suddenly, he turned to face her and said, "Ren Xiyao, listen carefully."

"First of all, the investigation isn't over yet. Who says I can't go to the Winter Olympics? You should worry about yourself more than me. Their methods are subtle and grueling. The most important thing is that you survive this."

"Secondly, even if you really can't go, it's not your fault. It's those bastards who reported it who have problems. I will regret it, but I won't blame you. The wronged will be held accountable, and I will haunt them even as a ghost."

Ren Xiyao grabbed her wrist: "What nonsense are you talking about!"

"I learned it all from you. So promise me." Lin Shan grabbed her hand in return: "Don't be silly."

Ren Xiyao took a deep breath: "...Mmm."

Looking at her like this, Lin Shan's tone was full of complex emotions: "It's precisely at times like this that I can only urge you to persevere. It's not that I'm speaking from a position of privilege, but you know best that bowing your head will never end well, as it has always been."

Ren Xiyao's smile was somewhat forced, but her eyes held an unwavering determination: "I know that, in reality, there has only ever been one path for us. And all I want is to skate cleanly, to skate on clean ice..."

Lin Shan released his grip with satisfaction and accurately tossed the empty water bottle into the trash can. In the distance, the instructor's whistle sounded during the dormitory check: "Alright, get some rest. We have training tomorrow."

"Lin Shan".

"what?"

"The steamed buns are delicious."

Lin Shan's smile was more cheerful this time: "Of course, it's my grandma's cooking!" She was about to go inside when she suddenly seemed to remember something and cautiously asked, "Do you know about what happened with GD?"

Ren Xiyao gave a self-deprecating laugh: "My phone... was handed in a long time ago. I only know about him from the kids in the second team."

What are you planning to do?

"I don't know," Ren Xiyao's thoughts seemed to have drifted away: "Lin Shan, it seems like I'm going to lose the bet."

Looking at Ren Xiyao like this, Lin Shan didn't know what to say. Ren Xiyao was the kind of person who would give her all in a relationship; she was willing and unafraid to commit. Such a person would win love with pride and accept defeat with equanimity. It was just that this kind of pressure from both inside and outside was truly unbearable. If only one of them were in trouble, perhaps it would be easier to handle. But now both of them were on the verge of collapse. In this precarious moment, it seemed that if even a few more factors were added, they would shatter completely.

Lin Shan could only pray for them...

However, fate is like this: when it wants to push someone into the abyss, it never gives any room for negotiation or any chance to breathe.

Just as YG Entertainment was barely managing to suppress the "photo scandal" crisis and trying to focus on dealing with the National Tax Service's precise and in-depth tax audit, an even more devastating blow came from the sky.

Kwon Ji-yong's teammate, who is also his longtime friend and elder brother, was found to have used illegal drugs by the police during his military service. The news, once exposed by the media, immediately caused a huge uproar throughout South Korean society.

In an instant, YG Entertainment became a "hotbed of evil" condemned by all. Public anger erupted like a volcano, with the internet flooded with insults and boycotts against YG and Kwon Ji-yong, and calls for them to "get out of the entertainment industry" resounding everywhere. Even Kwon Ji-yong was inevitably targeted with this smear campaign. YG's stock price plummeted again, even hitting the daily limit down at one point. Partners announced contract terminations one after another, and scheduled advertising endorsements and commercial activities were canceled one after another. The entire company seemed to have fallen from the pinnacle of the industry to an abyss of no return overnight.

YG has been quite unique in the K-pop idol market in recent years. It's a double-edged sword; for every person who loves it, there's just as many who hate it. This side might not be obvious in normal times, but once something goes wrong, the pressure of being targeted will increase many times over, and the malice will inevitably be more intense.

Upon hearing the news, Yang Xianshuo reportedly felt his vision go black and nearly fainted. He locked himself in his office for an entire day, and no one knows what he did there. When he reappeared at an emergency meeting of the company's senior management, he looked as if he had aged ten years.

Kwon Ji-yong sat at the end of the conference table, listening expressionlessly to the surrounding discussions and arguments. His heart had long been numbed by the successive blows. He had just begun to pull himself together when this happened. And it had to be his own brother, and the group he had poured his heart and soul into. In just a month and a half since returning from Las Vegas, he had experienced a dramatic fall from grace. The sweetness and happiness of the past now seemed like a fleeting, illusory dream. And after waking from the dream, only the cold, cruel reality remained.

Over the past 20 years, Kwon Ji-yong had lost count of how many times he had stepped into Yang Hyun-suk's top-floor office. But the number of times he had truly walked in with ease could be counted on one hand. This time, looking at Yang Hyun-suk's face, contorted with anger, anxiety, and despair, he felt a mix of emotions. He knew that YG Entertainment was truly on the verge of collapse. And he, as the company's only remaining asset, the only one who could still barely maintain its facade and potentially create a "miracle," was once again thrust into the spotlight.

This time, he didn't fight back, nor did he try to stick to his so-called "musical philosophy" and "creative rhythm." Faced with reality, personal persistence seemed so insignificant and powerless.

The effort he poured into BigBang will inevitably become his greatest weakness in this life.

"Okay." He said only one word, his voice so calm that it revealed no emotion.

But only he himself knows what that word "good" truly means.

His solo album, originally planned for release during his birthday month in August and a testament to his dedication, intended as a perfect ending to his music career before enlisting in the military, has now been rushed forward to the end of June. This means that much of the post-production work had to be completed in a very short time, and many details he originally wanted to perfect had to be compromised and conceded.

What suffocated him even more was the almost seamless, outrageously packed world tour that followed the album's release. According to the company's hastily drawn-up plan, he would be traveling to dozens of cities in Asia, North America, and Europe for more than thirty large-scale concerts over the next two to three months, starting from June 10th.

This schedule is less a concert plan and more a pledge to "squeeze every last drop of commercial value from G-Dragon." The company needs to use the huge pre-payment for the tour contracts and ticket revenue to temporarily fill the huge financial gap caused by tax penalties, the plummeting stock price, and the suspension of various businesses, giving the company a little breathing room and time to turn things around.

Kwon Ji-yong silently accepted all of these arrangements. He knew that this was the responsibility and price he had to bear as a member of YG Entertainment and as an artist personally promoted by Yang Hyun-suk. Although deep down, he did harbor some resentment towards the company's management for their handling of the crisis and their short-sighted actions.

Immediately after the meeting, YG Entertainment sprang into action, operating at breakneck speed like a machine wound up again. The PR team launched a full-scale pre-release campaign for the new album, while the album production team entered an unprecedented "battle mode," with everyone on call 24/7, working overtime to finish the album. Preparations for the tour also began simultaneously: ticket pre-sales, venue coordination, sponsor negotiations... everything was progressing at an almost frantic pace.

Kwon Ji-yong locked himself in the recording studio, working day and night to revise lyrics, adjust arrangements, and record. The smoke-filled recording studio became his only refuge.

His new album was originally themed around "self-awareness," filled with his profound personal insights into emotions and life. Several songs were inspired by Ren Xiyao, serving as a record and emotional projection of his time with her. Ironically, he saw himself through Ren Xiyao. But now it seems he's losing himself and almost losing her.

Under immense pressure and a tight schedule from the company, he had to adjust the overall style of the album and the content of some songs. Some overly personal and obscure expressions were required to be modified to be more "popular" and "marketable."

Sometimes he felt like a craftsman destined to polish a flawed work of art, clear-headed yet powerless.

The cicadas' chirping brought no hope, only twilight, and time itself seemed to freeze.