Chapter 62 Chapter 62

Inside the YG conference room, a cool white light cast a thin, reflective glow across the long table. Documents and computer screens lay silently stacked in the light. The PR staff took their seats one by one, and the atmosphere was subdued.

This was a weekly meeting. Ever since the "plagiarism" incident broke out, the PR department had been closely monitoring the direction of public opinion. However, this time, the situation had developed far beyond their expectations. The storm had not only not "dissipated naturally,"

Instead, the situation intensified, even the mainstream media began reporting on it. Bao Heng sat near the end of the table, her brow furrowed. She wasn't a member of the PR department, but was present so they could stay abreast of the artist's progress.

I could hear the staff's routine reports, mixed with the sounds of keyboards tapping and shuffling documents. The content was nothing new, just a summary of recent reports from major forums and media.

She absentmindedly clicked her mouse, refreshing the Bestiz forum's front page. At the very top was a pinned, trending post: "'Not a Tribute, It's Stealing' — The Crisis of Korean Original Music?"

The bright red title font at the top of the page is particularly eye-catching. The number of views of the post is constantly climbing.

"...Currently, mainstream media such as MBC and CBC have been reporting continuously...The relevant reports have not yet provided conclusive evidence, but the focus of public opinion has shifted away from the facts themselves..." The reporter spoke in a low voice, mechanically reading the prepared manuscript.

Baoheng ignored it and continued reading the post. The beginning was similar to other similar articles, especially the part about evidence of "plagiarism," which was almost a copycat comparison of two chorus tracks edited by others.

Obviously, the poster is not a music professional and has no intention of doing an in-depth analysis of this. He quickly jumps into another argument, which is also the main theme of this post - how "fake creators" are packaged by companies into idol myths.

The author of this post quoted extensively from "This

Love" to the recent album "Heartbreaker" which is a "blind imitation of European and American electronic pop music", all analyses point to the same conclusion: Kwon Ji-yong, the so-called "genius creator", is nothing but a fictitious product of commercial packaging.

"The myth of 'musical genius' will eventually collapse within the illusion it has constructed... The problem didn't begin today, but rather that he never truly existed independently as a creator." — Brilliant writing. Bao Heng stared at the screen.

The words before her felt like an invisible pressure, suffocating her. Compared to the dry reports from the staff beside her, these words were clearly more inflammatory. This was a crusade that had nothing to do with the truth.

Hearing the words "stay out of the spotlight" in his ears, Bao Heng closed his eyes and returned his attention to the meeting. After the staff's report was over, the director at the head began to lay out the next steps.

"...For now, we're still adhering to a cold-treatment strategy." The bespectacled middle-aged man glanced across the long table. "The statement has been issued, and no additional announcements will be made for now. The artist's domestic activities will continue to be suspended, and all that can be postponed will be postponed. Some of the forum content will be outsourced while we wait for the heat to cool down..."

Bao Heng frowned. After a moment's silence, she finally couldn't help but speak: "Do we still want to continue the cold treatment?" The director paused, looked up at her and said: "This is the safest way at the moment. How is the artist doing?"

"Very bad." Bao Heng said calmly, looking him straight in the eye. "I went there a few times, and he locked himself in the room and never came out." The minister nodded, seemingly unsurprised. "That's good. Try not to show up during this period."

Baoheng clenched the pen in her hand and asked again, "Do you really think this is enough?" As she spoke, she turned the computer in her hand and pushed the screen towards him.

"There are so many posts like this on the forum right now. Can we really do nothing?" The minister frowned and was about to respond when the conference room door suddenly opened. Yang Xianshi walked in.

The conference room suddenly fell silent. The director stood up and offered his seat, and everyone's gaze turned to him. Yang Hyun-seok rarely attended PR meetings, but his personal presence this time indicated that the company's top brass considered the situation too serious to ignore.

"We can't take this cold treatment anymore." He took over Bao Heng's words as soon as he sat down, "Bigbang is now the most important artist in the company, we must respond." His eyes fell on the director.

The latter nodded, blushing slightly.

"Rida's team is willing to cooperate with us in making a statement." Yang Xianshi paused, "The relevant expenses will be allocated separately from the budget. I will notify the finance department later." Everyone below was watching with concern.

Money is indeed a good thing. "Baoheng," Yang Xianshi turned to look at her, "I will have an online meeting with the Flo Rida team next Wednesday. As for Zhilong, I hope he can attend in person."

Baoheng nodded: "He has no plans recently. Bigbang will fly to Japan for promotion next week, and other than that he doesn't have much to do. I'll go to the dormitory later." Yang Hyun-seok nodded.

"Our response so far has been too passive," Yang Hyun-seok said slowly. "'Plagiarism' is a very subjective thing, and it can be big or small. Now that we've missed the best opportunity, we must do our best to do the follow-up work well."

He cleared his throat and glanced pointedly at the head of the PR department beside him. The situation had reached this point, partly due to a miscalculation of public opinion. The head of the department, his face brimming with embarrassment, sweat dripping from his forehead, responded repeatedly.

The company has never had such a large artist since its establishment. He is just using his previous thinking. If it was just a small artist, this matter would have faded in a week or two.

It's just that Bigbang has reached another level of popularity now, and the old methods are no longer effective. He couldn't express his pain, so he just swallowed it. Baoheng turned back to the computer and said nothing.

After Yang Xianshi finished his speech, the meeting quickly ended. He left first, and Baoheng packed up his documents and prepared to leave as well. A passing minister snorted coldly, but Baoheng ignored him.

She did give him face during the meeting, but she has no regrets. She's seen countless artists rise and fall in YG's development, and she can't completely treat Kwon Ji-yong as a "company asset." He's her child, raised under her care.

Her mind was a mess of thoughts. As she walked to the office door, she saw a figure waiting there. "Lia?" "Sister Baoheng." The girl raised her head and greeted softly. "Aren't you going to school today?"

"The last period of the morning is self-study, so I took a leave of absence to come here." Lia stepped aside, opened the door for her, and followed her in. Bao Heng put down his things and looked at the girl in front of him. Her eyes were dark, and it was obvious that she hadn't rested well.

"You've been studying hard," she asked casually. "Did you come to see me today?" After leaving the debut group, Lia hadn't visited her often, often less than once a month. Lia nodded, seeming a little hesitant.

Baoheng's heart skipped a beat, and he suddenly guessed why she came. "Want to ask about Zhilong?" she asked. "Yes." Lia's voice softened.

Teddy and Kush were not at the company. She thought about it and realized that only Baoheng knew the situation best. "Is he okay?" "Why don't you contact him directly?" Baoheng was a little surprised. Lia lowered her head.

Her chat history with Quan Zhilong was still stuck on the message about asking him to go to the rooftop. She typed and deleted it repeatedly, saying it was pride or anxiety, but in any case, she never got around to sending the words of concern.

What's more...he already has a girlfriend now. Bao Heng saw that her expression was subtle, but did not ask any further questions. She opened the drawer and took out the car keys, and comforted her casually: "The president has contacted Flo

Rida's team will issue a joint statement. Don't worry too much. Lia nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. Knowing the PR department, she had worried that this time, too, would be dealt with coldly.

"I'm just about to go to the dormitory. Do you want to come with me?" Baoheng finished packing his things, took down his coat hanging on the back of the chair, and glanced at her. Lia hesitated for a moment. "No, I have a mock exam at school this afternoon." "Really?" "Really."

Baoheng smiled and said nothing more. * Inside the Bigbang dormitory. Ever since the "plagiarism" news broke, everyone else in the dormitory tried to avoid Quan Zhilong's door and not disturb him.

He had always had an irregular sleep schedule, and he didn't eat regularly. For two weeks, he was rarely seen leaving his room. When Baoheng arrived, Dasheng was the only one in the living room.

He was crouching in the corner, teasing Jiahu. He heard the doorbell and quickly stood up to open it. "Nuna." He was like he had seen a savior. "Is he still locked up in his room?" Baoheng casually handed him the fruit he had bought on the way.

"Yeah." Dasheng nodded and welcomed her in. "He hasn't come out yet." They didn't hear any movement either. If Jiahu hadn't changed the dog food every day, they would have thought the person in the room had disappeared.

Baoheng nodded, put down his bag, and walked towards the closed door. Dasheng watched from afar, not expecting anything different this time. "Knock, knock." She knocked. "The president has contacted Flo Rida," she whispered.

The door swung open. Dasheng was stunned. The man behind the door had messy hair and eyebrows, and a bluish stubble on his chin. His light blond hair, which hadn't been bleached in time, had a dark chestnut fringe growing at the roots.

"Are you willing to come out?" Baoheng sighed softly and turned to walk into the living room. Quan Zhilong followed silently and sat on the sofa. Dasheng consciously returned to his room. Baoheng didn't say much, simply conveying the company's response and arrangements.

"You still have to go to Bigbang's promotions in Japan next week. We can't postpone our activities there." He said nothing, looking down at his phone. It was as if overnight, he had become completely depressed. He had lost all his previous lively demeanor.

"Don't read the comments online..." Bao Heng paused, "They are all meaningless trolls." Quan Zhilong said nothing, turned off his phone, and his eyes fell on Jiahu who was slowly moving towards him.

"Everyone is worried about you. Lia also came to the company today—" His gaze froze and he looked up at her. Bao Heng saw his reaction and couldn't help but add: "She told you not to be too sad, and that you will feel better soon."

Quan Zhilong suddenly chuckled. "That doesn't sound like something she would say." His voice was hoarse, lacking its usual clarity. Baoheng felt a little embarrassed. It was just one extra sentence.

The words he had added were exposed, making it seem like a clumsy lie. Quan Zhilong didn't delve into it. He just lowered his head, picked up Jiahu, and stroked its head. "Nuna, I'm fine. The subsequent activities will be arranged as usual, and I will prepare well for the meeting."

Baoheng sighed softly, patted his shoulder, and half-jokingly said, "Anyway, no matter what, you're the most popular person in the country right now." Quan Zhilong looked at her helplessly. After she left, he opened his phone again.

He'd read through the forums, filled with nasty insults. On MSN, the atmosphere was completely different. Everyone he knew had sent him messages expressing concern, but he hadn't opened any of them. He let out a sigh and opened the pinned chat.

The conversation stopped at "I'm waiting for you on the rooftop." There were no new messages. He lowered his eyes and clicked "Unpin." Then he logged out of MSN.

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