Chapter 123 And it was also at the Heilongjiang Winter Olympics…

On the very day the Pyeongcheon Winter Olympics flame was extinguished, Kwon Ji-yong, less than two days before his enlistment, watched Ren Xiyao's competition and locked himself in that room filled with memories. In the days following the breakup, Kwon Ji-yong often asked himself why he couldn't let go of Ren Xiyao, why he seemed like the male lead in a romance drama, so infatuated.

It's not that being devoted in love is bad. It's just that this is completely different from the Kwon Ji-yong who used to be so adept at navigating relationships. Or rather, after being with Ren Xiyao, the Kwon Ji-yong that fit the public's image disappeared. He's not some high school student who's never been in a relationship. He entered the entertainment industry early, and he entered the adult world early as well. In his early years, there was a period of naivety and inexperience, but later in relationships, he became more adept at push-and-pull maneuvers and a balanced relationship where each party had their own needs. No matter how much he talks, fundamentally, he won't compromise or compromise. Because after reaching this position, it's always others accommodating him.

But Ren Xiyao was an exception. From their second encounter onward, it was he who accommodated her, or more accurately, he was constantly getting closer to her. He took many steps towards her. He proactively asked the shop assistant about hot lemonade, and he proactively researched that the most famous building near the beverage shop was the North City Training Base. Even without knowing if she was an athlete, he had already begun to actively learn about winter sports. Not knowing if she was a figure skater, short track skater, or long track skater, he learned the general outline of each sport, just thinking that he wouldn't seem abrupt when he had the chance to strike up a conversation.

If this had happened at the beginning of 2013, the 25-year-old Kwon Ji-yong, at the height of his fame, would have met a girl in November who could make him bow down to her. He himself absolutely wouldn't have believed it. When they were together, he couldn't explain why he loved her. He just felt that this girl was there for Kwon Ji-yong. It wasn't until after the breakup that he began to compare himself to her, to question himself somewhat pathologically. Why did it have to be her? Why couldn't he bear to take off that ring?

Later, he thought that perhaps it was because Ren Xiyao was the only person who made him feel that he could be "imperfect." In his own world, love was usually accompanied by being "examined."

But Ren Xiyao was different. Her way of loving him was to treat him like an ordinary person. She was "indifferent" to his talent. From their first meeting, she didn't even know who he was. Even though she later saw many of his concerts and praised his stage presence, she was never fanatical. She appreciated his professionalism, but she wouldn't elevate him to a pedestal. Because essentially, they were both strong individuals in their respective fields, and this sense of normalcy was incredibly precious to her.

Ren Xiyao has always been clear-headed. Her love for him was never a sacrifice, but a commitment. In today's fast-paced culture, the pursuit of results often blurs the lines between commitment and sacrifice. Giving a little more or doing something slightly out of line seems to be seen as irrational. But Ren Xiyao clearly understands where the line between commitment and sacrifice lies. Even when Lin Shan teases her for being love-struck, she knows perfectly well that it's just a friendly joke. Ren Xiyao is clear-headed more than anyone else, and this clear-headedness in her commitment is always a plus. And he happens to be the same, making them truly evenly matched. Looking back on their journey of love, he can proudly say that their relationship is the best.

This "evenly matched" contest of love is different from previous ones. It's about personal independence, not setting "independence" against "daring to love." Ren Xiyao's independence is "I have the ability to stand up" and "I will win no matter what." Ren Xiyao's daring to love is "I have the courage to reach out." This firm and clear-headed personal charm is irresistible to him.

He felt that Ren Xiyao represented the freest phase of his life. When he was with her, he could temporarily escape the shackles of "G-DRAGON"; she didn't love his fame, so he didn't have to perform; she didn't need his protection, so he could be vulnerable.

She possessed the "pure passion" he had long lost. In G-Dragon's world, "passion" often comes at a price. And she became the last bit of "uncalculated" impulse in his life.

Her world possesses "absolute truth." In short track speed skating, victory or defeat can be decided in 0.01 seconds, and she integrates this into her life, making her appear so candid. Therefore, her "passion" is worldly-wise yet not cynical. She is aware of the undercurrents in the sports world, the power struggles between clubs, and the pressure from sponsors, but when she steps onto the ice, her eyes are only on the finish line; she believes in the rules but not in the unspoken ones; she wants to win, but only on the ice. She will not compromise or appease for a gold medal, nor will she abandon the spirit of sportsmanship because of an opponent's sabotage. This almost naive determination reminds Kwon Ji-yong of his past as a musician.

She was his only relationship that "didn't have to be perfect." And this kind of relationship might never happen again in his life.

So, in the very end, in those rooms filled with Ren Xiyao's photos, he wrote her a letter that might never be sent. Writing lyrics was second nature to him. But... he thought he'd stumble and hesitate when writing a letter, yet, overcome with emotion, the words flowed naturally and smoothly.

He wrote for a long time, on an A4 sheet of paper. At first, the spacing was normal, but it got narrower and narrower as he wrote. The characters also got smaller and smaller.

The ink had smudged with tears, blurring the last line of text. Only after he left the room did the moonlight faintly illuminate that final line.

Should I wish you all the best?

But I still want to make a wish for the two of us, just like so many times before, that we can meet again in the season when the flowers are in full bloom, okay?

And what about Ren Xiyao? She had a very long dream. It wasn't necessarily good or bad; it wasn't one of those nightmares that threatened to devour her. But it still caused her immense heartache.

In complete darkness. When she regained her memory, she was standing in a dark bedroom.

Even though the ring now looks loose on his hand, he still hasn't taken it off.

"You've lost weight again." She tried to reach out and touch him, but her fingertips passed right through his body.

The director off-camera called out, "GD sir, please do it again."

Kwon Ji-yong struggled to his feet, his body swaying slightly. The stage lights snapped on, illuminating his ribs protruding beneath his T-shirt. His costume hung loosely, his shoulder blades bulging like winged skeletons beneath the fabric, and with every turn, the traces of his spine sliding beneath his skin were visible. Ren Xiyao suddenly remembered the time in Las Vegas when he proposed, burying his face in the crook of her neck and murmuring sweetly, "The scent of ice and snow on you is unique," his breath warm and ticklish against her skin. At that moment, being in his arms felt so reliable and warm.

Now he stands in the center of ten thousand people, like a puppet whose soul has been emptied.

The stage suddenly shattered into countless fragments, each fragment reflecting a different scene: backstage, he was curled up in a chair, a nurse was drawing his blood; in the MRI machine, he had his eyes closed, his eyelashes casting shadows under his eyes; on the ceiling of the hotel room, countless "Kwon Ji-yong" were the real Kwon Ji-yong that Ren Xiyao was unwilling to face during these days apart, yet feared deep down.

Memories surged like a tidal wave. The surging love that she had deliberately suppressed in her heart and had to temporarily put aside in preparation for the Olympics, now grew wildly like vines breaking free of their restraints, entwining her heart and causing her waves of suffocating pain.

Those sweet and beautiful moments have now become sharp knives stuck in her heart, causing her excruciating pain.

The scene spun rapidly, and a sharp explosion rang in her ears.

When his vision cleared again, Kwon Ji-yong was gagging by the toilet, cold sweat plastering his bangs to his forehead. His manager handed him water and pills, but he shook his head and said in a hoarse voice, "I'll oversleep if I take these... I have two hours to fly to Tokyo."

Ren Xiyao squatted down next to him and found three bottles of medicine on the sink: painkiller, anti-anxiety medicine, and sleep aid.

“You didn’t eat these before,” she said to the air.

Kwon Ji-yong in the mirror suddenly looked up, his gaze passing through her reflection and landing on his own haggard face. He reached out and touched the mirror, whispering, "...So tired."

Ren Xiyao's heart clenched suddenly.

Later, she followed him like a ghost. Kwon Ji-yong was almost always surrounded by cameras; even in this situation, he remained a superstar living in the spotlight. She couldn't say whether it was good or bad. Perhaps it was good; Kwon Ji-yong had walked a tightrope to get to where he was today, and he deserved to show those people that no one succeeds easily. Yet, she still felt sorry for him. Perhaps, given that he was still facing the cameras at such times, wouldn't turning them off make him more relaxed?

She couldn't give an answer either, only an overwhelming heartache remained. She watched as G-Dragon slumped in the makeup chair, the makeup artist applying concealer to his collarbone.

The makeup artist whispered to her assistant, "We have to cover the ribs, or the fans will cry again."

Kwon Ji-yong suddenly opened his eyes and looked in the mirror in Ren Xiyao's direction.

"Xi Yao." He called her name, his pronunciation sounding like he was holding a piece of ice in his mouth.

Ren Xiyao stood frozen in place.

“I dreamt about you,” he said to the air. “You were on the ice rink, pointing to the stands…did you see me?”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

The makeup artist turned around in confusion: "GD xi?"

"It's nothing." Kwon Ji-yong closed his eyes. "It's just a hallucination."

She reached out to hug him, but was cut by the blade in the next moment. The light and the blade formed countless arcs of reflection. In the blinding light, countless reflections of Kwon Ji Yong were refracted, each reflection repeating the monologue in the tour documentary: "Tell me, Kwon Ji Yong and G-Dragon, which one is the real me?"

Before she woke up, the last scene she saw was a constant interweaving of scenes from "The Truman Show" and G-Dragon's concert.

Kwon Ji-yong's voice echoed clearly in her ears.

"In case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night."

She woke up with a start.

The monitor beeped, and my heart felt like it was being ripped apart. I felt helpless, only able to lie there, feeling the pain spread from my heart to my entire body, seeping into every cell of my skin.

After a long while, Ren Xiyao felt the tears on her cheeks. A soft laugh suddenly broke the silence of the ward.

There was a time when Ren Xiyao felt it was incredibly ironic.

"What is this? Heaven's mercy?"

"Or punishment?"

Why do we become more and more miserable the more we love each other?