Chapter 73 We had lunch together that noon...

After having lunch together that day, Ren Xiyao returned to the training camp to continue her training and preparations for the upcoming German leg in February. Kwon Ji-yong also rushed back to South Korea. Although his schedule wasn't as packed as last year's tour, his appearances for the group's 10th anniversary were still full, and he also had the idea of ​​launching his own brand this year. This idea had been brewing for a long time.

Kwon Ji-yong sat in front of the makeup mirror, his eyes closed as the makeup artist applied his base makeup. He was currently attending Fashion Week in France. The only sounds around him were the quiet conversations of the staff, the air thick with the scents of cosmetics and perfume, tinged with a tense, busy atmosphere.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out and glanced at it. Ren Xiyao had sent him a photo of the ice rink at the training base. The morning sunlight streamed through the glass roof, casting a soft golden glow on the ice, making it appear serene and beautiful. The ice was deserted; only the marks left by the skates spoke of the sweat and effort the athletes had poured into it.

The image was immediately followed by a message: "Today's speed test: I broke my personal best in the 500 meters."

A smile involuntarily crept onto his lips as he rapidly tapped his fingers on the screen: "Congratulations on your selection, here's a kiss as a reward."

The moment the message was sent, the makeup artist helplessly reminded him, "GDxi, don't move, your eye makeup is going to smudge."

Kwon Ji-yong then realized that he had tilted his head slightly in excitement. He quickly put down his phone, sat up straight, but couldn't hide the smile on his face. That heartfelt joy, that pride in her, shone like the bright sunshine.

The manager stood to the side, confirming the afternoon's schedule with his assistant. He caught a glimpse of Kwon Ji-yong's expression and the faintly visible chat interface on the phone screen he had just put down, and understood.

"News about the players?" The agent walked over, his tone slightly probing.

"Hmm." Kwon Ji-yong closed his eyes, his voice filled with undisguised pride, as if showing off his own child who had scored a perfect score: "She broke the record, 500 meters."

The agent smiled and said, "Then shouldn't you show your appreciation?"

Kwon Ji-yong opened one eye, his gaze questioning, "What does this mean?"

The agent rubbed his hands together, half-jokingly and half-seriously suggesting, "How about... flying back to celebrate? Giving you a couple of days off?"

Kwon Ji-yong opened his eyes wide, looking at him with a hint of mockery. He knew his manager was just saying that; his schedule was even fuller than that of a national leader.

"Do you think I can leave now?" he retorted, his tone laced with a helpless yet amused sarcasm. "Or are you willing to give me a break from my schedule and let me catch my breath?"

The manager glanced at his schedule: after Fashion Week, there was a hectic schedule of magazine shoots, various brand meetings, and the long-awaited 10th anniversary celebration and concert for the group. He couldn't refuse any of them. Feeling a little embarrassed, he regretted bringing up the topic. He chuckled dryly and replied obsequiously, "Well, I didn't mean that. Never mind, never mind." Afraid that Kwon Ji-yong would continue to harp on the "vacation" topic, he quickly made an excuse and tried to slip away.

Kwon Ji-yong closed his eyes again, leaned back in his chair, and still had a smile on his face. He said lazily, "So she said she'd finish it when she was done with her work." His voice carried a sense of satisfaction, as if he had made an agreement with her.

Upon hearing this, the manager paused for a moment. He knew that for Kwon Ji-yong, Ren Xiyao's promise was more effective than anything else. As Kwon Ji-yong hummed an unknown melody in a good mood, the manager silently pushed open the door and left, somewhat speechless, thinking that the way this cross-cultural couple interacted was truly baffling to this single guy.

Ren Xiyao had just finished extra training on Saturday morning. After returning to her dorm and taking a shower, her hair still wet, she sat down at her desk to tidy up. Her phone screen lit up; it was a video call request from Kwon Ji-yong.

She pressed the answer button, and a tired but refined face immediately appeared on the screen. Kwon Ji-yong was leaning against the headboard of the hotel bed, his hair was messy, and there were faint dark circles under his eyes.

"You're not asleep?" she frowned.

"Just finished filming." He rubbed his eyes. "I wanted to see you."

Ren Xiyao placed her phone on the table and took out her laptop from her bag: "Now you can watch me, I need to revise my thesis."

Kwon Ji-yong pouted on the other side of the screen, his tone full of displeasure, as if he had suffered some great injustice: "Is this how you treat me? I just broke my personal best, can't you be a little nicer to me?"

"Otherwise what?" She opened the document, without looking up, and started typing on the keyboard: "It's four or five in the morning where you are, why don't you go to sleep or you'll die from overwork? I just finished training here, I'm exhausted, and I still have to finish my thesis."

Listening to the clattering of the keyboard, Kwon Ji-yong said reluctantly, "I want to hear you praise me."

Ren Xiyao paused in her typing and looked up at him. On the screen, he appeared tired, but his eyes were bright, carrying a hint of expectation.

"What did I say to praise you?" she asked.

"You're praising my looks," he said matter-of-factly.

She scoffed and shook her head: "Narcissism."

Kwon Ji-yong persisted, like a child: "Really! The styling for today's shoot was especially beautiful. The photographer kept praising me, saying I was a walking work of art."

"Oh," she replied casually, continuing to look down at the document.

"Is this all you're going to do?" Kwon Ji-yong raised his voice in dissatisfaction.

Ren Xiyao stopped typing, looked up, and stared intently at the face on the screen that seemed to scream "Praise me!" She knew he was using this method to be affectionate and seek connection. She knew he needed affirmation, needed someone to tell him he was doing well, that he was great.

"Kwon Ji-yong," she called his name.

"Hmm?" He immediately dropped his complaining expression and looked at her intently.

"You'd look good even in a burlap sack, okay?" Her tone was calm, but her eyes held a gentleness she herself didn't realize.

Kwon Ji-yong paused for a second. He hadn't expected her to say that. Suddenly, he felt that this simple, unadorned praise touched him more than any flowery words. Yes, those who are loved have privileges; he was just that "double-standard." Looking at her on the screen, her face bare, her hair wet, wearing her training clothes, he suddenly felt his heart overflowing.

Immediately, he laughed so hard his shoulders shook, and he sank into the bed: "Ren Xiyao, are you flirting with me? Don't you know that saying sweet nothings is against the rules!"

"No." She looked at his exaggerated reaction and couldn't help but smile. "I was just trying to get you to sleep so you could end the call and rest."

Kwon Ji-yong smiled even wider on the other side of the screen, feeling a sense of comfort and warmth. The fatigue from days of work was relieved, making him feel warm and relaxed.

Days passed, and Ren Xiyao's preparations entered a fever pitch. The German Grand Prix was drawing ever closer, and the training intensity increased accordingly. Meanwhile, she returned to South Korea immediately after Fashion Week. One afternoon in late January, Kwon Ji-yong sat at a conference table, a pile of design sketches spread out before him. The establishment of his personal brand was nearing completion. The brand team was discussing the final logo design, but he seemed lost in thought, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table.

My phone vibrated.

Ren Xiyao: "I submitted the first draft of the paper, and my supervisor said there were no problems."

He immediately replied, "Shall we celebrate?"

"How are we going to celebrate? I just got back to the training base and I'm leaving for Germany next week. And you, you're probably in a meeting right now, aren't you?"

Kwon Ji-yong glanced at the design director who was talking non-stop, and secretly typed under the table: "When you come back, I'll take you out for barbecue."

"Goodbye, there's still the World Championships coming up. Try to eat out less during the competition."

"What do you want?" He sent this message with no ulterior motive; he just wanted to do something for her, at least. After waiting for a long time, the reply he received was...

"I just went into the rest room to change my shoes. You get back to work and don't get distracted. I need to train now."

He stared at the message for two seconds, then suddenly laughed.

The design director stopped: "Zhilong-xi, do you have any ideas?"

Kwon Ji-yong looked up and pointed to one of the sketches. It featured a slightly rounded letter design. "This is good, but the font could be sharper," he said, his mind flashing back to Ren Xiyao's sharp "right-angle turn" at the bend, carrying a sharpness that seemed to cut through all obstacles.

He put down his phone and rejoined the meeting, feeling much more relaxed than before.

As the German Grand Prix approached, Ren Xiyao's training intensity reached its peak. Every day was filled with muscle soreness and exhaustion. At this time of year, the weather in the north was unusually cold. Although the indoor ice rink maintained a constant temperature, the long hours of training and physical exertion still caused her joint discomfort. Her knees, in particular, were especially sensitive to weather changes and high-intensity training, a site of a previous serious injury.

The night before Ren Xiyao left for Germany, Quan Zhilong had just finished recording a verse and his voice was a little hoarse. He drank half a bottle of water to recover. He took out his phone to check the time; it was 11 o'clock. He hesitated for a moment, but still couldn't help but dial Ren Xiyao's number.

It rang for a long time before she answered, her voice sleepy: "...Hello?"

"Asleep?"

"Not yet, but almost." She answered somewhat vaguely, "Are you finished recording?"

"Just finished." He leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes. "How was your training today?"

"It's alright." She turned over, her voice gradually becoming clearer: "It's just that my knee is reacting a bit, and the team doctor told me to be careful."

Kwon Ji-yong immediately sat up straight, all sleepiness gone. His old knee injury was his biggest worry: "Old injury?"

"Yes, things have changed." Her voice sounded calm, as if she were simply stating a fact, but Kwon Ji-yong could detect a hint of helplessness hidden within it.

He frowned: "Should I...?"

"No need." Ren Xiyao interrupted him: "You should get some more sleep. It's not a big deal. I'm leaving soon, so don't bother me."

Kwon Ji-yong was silent for a moment, then whispered, "I miss you."

There was a rustling sound coming from the other end of the phone, like she was turning over in bed.

"I miss you too." Her voice was soft, but clear.

"Then what?"

“Then…” she paused, “if you have time during next year’s overseas training break, I can accept your invitation to Jeju Island.”

Kwon Ji-yong laughed: "You're not lying to me this time?" The previous promises of "I'll do it when I'm done with this" always fell through due to various unforeseen circumstances.

"I'd be a dog if I lied to you."