Chapter 53 There's another match the next day, but...
There was another performance the next day, but Ren Xiyao didn't go. Training proceeded as scheduled until the evening session ended. Back in the dormitory, Ren Xiyao stared at her phone screen, her chat history stuck on the message she had sent: "Did the performance go well?"
It's 11:30, and there's still no reply.
This isn't right.
Kwon Ji-yong wouldn't go this long without replying to messages, especially after a concert. He would always contact her immediately, even if it was just sending an emoji or a simple "I'm exhausted."
During last night's concert, Kwon Ji-yong's condition was actually not quite right.
Ren Xiyao was sitting in the third row of the inner field, and could clearly see the beads of sweat on his forehead and his slightly trembling fingers as he sang. During intermission, he even held onto the edge of the stage for a few seconds to recover before standing up straight again.
She didn't ask at the time because he said he knew what he was doing; it was his profession, and Ren Xiyao chose to respect that. But now, thinking back, it might have been a warning from her body.
Ren Xiyao dialed the number again, but still no one answered.
She opened her contacts, hovered her finger over "Manager Park's" name, hesitated for a few seconds, and finally sent a message: Did the performance go well?
The message indicates it has been read, but the other party did not reply immediately.
Three minutes later, my phone vibrated: "The performance was a great success. He's tired and resting. You should go to sleep early too."
Ren Xiyao stared at the message, her brows furrowing even more.
That's too official.
It's completely unlike Kwon Ji-yong's style, and it doesn't sound like his manager's usual tone of voice.
If Kwon Ji-yong was really just tired, he would definitely reply to her messages personally, even if it was just a "goodnight".
Unless... he simply has no way to reply.
The dormitory corridor lights were off, with only the safety signs glowing faintly. The large door at the end of the corridor was chained shut; curfew had long passed.
Ren Xiyao stood by the window, below which was a dark lawn.
The third floor is not too high, but it's not low either.
She took a deep breath, pushed open the window, and a cold wind rushed in.
"Are you crazy?!" Lin Shan jumped out of bed and yelled at her in a low voice, "What are you doing in the middle of the night?"
"Go out for a bit." Ren Xiyao had already stepped onto the windowsill, her fingers gripping the edge of the window frame.
"I know."
“Something might have happened to him.” Ren Xiyao turned to look at her, her voice soft, but her eyes sharp as knives: “I have to go check on him.”
Lin Shan was stunned; she had never seen Ren Xiyao look at her like that before. Ren Xiyao was the kind of person who kept her care and concern hidden in her heart, saying little but doing much. Lin Shan knew what Quan Zhilong meant to her; that care and concern, though she stubbornly refused to say it, was something no one could underestimate.
Seeing Ren Xiyao's resolute expression, Lin Shan loosened his grip for a moment.
In that instant, Ren Xiyao broke free from her hand and jumped down.
"Ren Xiyao!!!"
As I landed along the air conditioner unit, a dull pain shot through my right knee, and the old injury felt numb from the impact.
Ren Xiyao gritted her teeth and steadied herself. Upon landing, a dull pain shot through her right knee, like it had been struck by a heavy hammer. The old injury numbed from the impact, making it almost impossible for her to stand. Ren Xiyao gritted her teeth again, ignoring the condition of her knee, and crouched low as she quickly ran towards the south gate of the training base. The wall there was low enough she could climb over.
The subway had stopped running at this time, and the training base was quite remote. She ran for 20 minutes to reach the main road before she could hail a taxi. Her knee was still hurting, and she didn't dare think about the consequences. At least for now, she just wanted to make sure he was alright.
The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror: her hair was sticking to her face with sweat, and she was breathing rapidly, like a high school student who had run away from home.
Where to?
Samsung General Hospital.
The driver raised an eyebrow: "Emergency room?"
"Um."
As the car merged into the traffic, Ren Xiyao gripped her phone tightly, her knuckles turning white.
She didn't know if Kwon Ji-yong was there, but she remembered him casually mentioning that YG artists usually went there when they had health problems. It was a place with high privacy and was close by.
The hospital corridor was blindingly bright. I almost stumbled as I entered. I nearly collapsed onto the reception desk to steady myself, ignoring the nurse's question and immediately calling Manager Park. The call connected quickly, and the manager's voice carried a hint of wariness: "Ren Xiyao? What brings you here..."
“I’m at the hospital,” Ren Xiyao interrupted him, her voice hoarse from running and nervousness. “Tell me, which room is Kwon Ji-yong in?” Her tone was firm and unyielding. She had already run so far and taken such a big risk; she wouldn’t be fooled again.
Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure hurrying towards her from around the corner of the corridor. It was her agent. He held a payment slip in his hand, his face showing obvious fatigue and anxiety. When he saw her, a flicker of shock and helplessness crossed his eyes.
"Ren Xiyao?" Her manager walked up to her, her tone complicated.
"Something really did happen." Ren Xiyao looked at his exhausted expression and the receipts in his hand, and the last glimmer of hope in her heart vanished. Her voice was cold, filled with anger and heartache at being kept in the dark.
The agent sighed, knowing he could no longer hide it. He stepped aside and gestured for him to come with him: "Come with me."
Kwon Ji-yong lay on the hospital bed, pale-faced, with an IV drip connected to the back of his hand. He couldn't sleep soundly, his brows furrowed.
Hearing the door open, he slightly opened his eyes, and upon seeing who it was, his pupils contracted sharply: "...Why are you here?"
Ren Xiyao stood by the bed, leaning against the wall. Her right leg was still trembling and she could barely stand. Her breathing had not yet calmed down.
Why didn't you tell me?
Kwon Ji-yong opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, his manager wisely withdrew and quietly closed the door.
"It's just hyperventilation syndrome, nothing serious." He tried to sit up, but she pushed him back down.
"Fainting in the middle of a concert and they say it's nothing serious?"
Kwon Ji-yong was stunned: "How did you know?" He had finished the concert and thought there would be no news.
"I guessed." Her voice trembled. "You never go this long without replying to messages."
Kwon Ji-yong was silent for a moment, then reached out to wipe the sweat from her face, only to find that she was trembling all over. He then noticed her somewhat unnatural posture and her tense expression.
"How...did you get here? Your dorm should be under curfew at this hour, right?" His voice was a little hoarse.
"Climb out the window."
Which floor?
"Third floor."
"Shut up," Ren Xiyao interrupted him. "Now you're worried? Didn't you say you knew what you were doing during rehearsals?"
Kwon Ji-yong was speechless.
She took a half step back, trying to appear calm as she pulled over a chair and sat down. But the moment she bent her right leg, her kneecap felt like it had been smashed by a hammer, the pain instantly stiffening her back. Only now did she think to pray that it wasn't a recurrence of an old injury and that it wouldn't affect her training.
She prayed silently, but outwardly she simply took a deep breath and looked up at him: "What are the next steps?"
Kwon Ji-yong stared at her face, his gaze sliding from her sweaty hair to her tightly pursed lips, finally settling on her slightly trembling fingertips. He suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist: "Does your leg hurt?" His voice deepened, a question carrying an undeniable certainty.
Ren Xiyao subconsciously tried to pull her hand away, but he gripped it even tighter.
"No," she lied.
"Ren Xiyao." His voice turned serious: "You jumped from the third floor, it's no wonder your old knee injury is acting up."
She was silent for two seconds before finally admitting in a low voice, "...It hurts a little." Kwon Ji-yong's face instantly turned even more unpleasant. His eyes seemed to be spitting fire, not from anger, but from extreme worry and self-blame. He suddenly threw off the covers and was about to get out of bed when his movement caused the IV tube to rattle, and the needle wobbled slightly on the back of his hand, making Ren Xiyao's heart skip a beat.
"What are you doing?!" She grabbed him and pressed him down.
"I'll call a doctor to examine you!"
"What's wrong with you? It's almost 1 a.m. Do you want tomorrow's headlines to be 'Kwon Ji-yong takes his girlfriend to the emergency room late at night'?" she yelled at him in a low voice.
Kwon Ji-yong froze, his chest heaving violently a few times, before finally slumping back onto the pillow. His hand was still gripping her wrist tightly, with a force so great it felt like he was about to crush her bones.
"...Aren't you afraid of crippling yourself?" His voice was hoarse.
Ren Xiyao lowered her eyes and said softly, "I'm afraid."
"Then why are you still jumping?"
"I'm more afraid something will happen to you. Are you satisfied now?"
Kwon Ji-yong's breath hitched. Only the ticking of the electrocardiogram monitor remained in the ward.
After a long silence, he whispered, "I'm sorry."
Ren Xiyao took a deep breath, then suddenly bent down and hugged him tightly, so tightly that she almost broke his ribs.
Kwon Ji-yong groaned as she bumped into him, but he didn't push her away. He just patted her back gently and said, "I'm fine, really."
He could keep it from her, and she could peek through the window to see him, but ultimately, his health, his work, and his perseverance were his own responsibility. No matter how much she felt sorry for him, she wouldn't overstep her bounds and interfere; that was her principle. She never asked him, "Could you take on fewer appointments?" Just like when he accompanied her during her rehabilitation training, no matter how painful or heartbreaking it was, he would only grit his teeth and turn away, never telling her to stop. But this respect felt like a knife stabbing at her right now.
Kwon Ji-ryong felt a tightness in his chest, even more uncomfortable than when he had difficulty breathing earlier.
He should have realized it sooner; Ren Xiyao's love was never about restraint, but rather, "I'm here, but you decide for yourself." Despite being much younger than him, she was far more clear-headed and insightful. He believed he had never underestimated the love she gave him. Yet, he found himself still narrow-minded.
At 4:30 a.m., Ren Xiyao sat on a chair in the hospital room, wrapped in his coat. She hadn't rested, keeping her eyes fixed on him, their hands clasped tightly. Kwon Ji-yong was asleep, but he was breathing heavily, his brow furrowed, his sleep restless. He hadn't wanted to rest earlier, so Ren Xiyao had helped him to sleep. Hyperventilation syndrome is common among athletes. Excessive mental strain, tension, anxiety, and overwork are all contributing factors. Even restless sleep requires rest to recover. As for Ren Xiyao's own knee, it was still hurting, but she didn't say anything. Having suffered multiple injuries, she could probably sense the severity; after calming down and thinking about it, she believed it was within a manageable range.
The manager gently pushed the door open, holding a hot coffee. Almost the instant the door opened, Kwon Ji-yong woke up: "You should go back now. It will be dawn in an hour."
Kwon Ji-yong looked unwell, partly due to his illness and partly due to worry: "How can she go back like this?"
"I'll arrange a car to take her."
Ren Xiyao stood up and handed his coat back to him: "No need, I'll take a taxi myself."
Kwon Ji-yong grabbed her wrist, wanting to stop her but ultimately not saying anything, only saying, "I'll contact you again tomorrow... no, this afternoon."
She nodded, turned to leave, but he grabbed her again.
"Ren Xiyao".
"Um?"
"Don't climb out the window next time." He said softly, "I'm scared."
She looked at him for a while, then suddenly bent down and kissed him on the forehead.
"Judging from your performance, get some rest and don't let me come for nothing."
Kwon Ji-yong sat on the hospital bed, listening to her footsteps disappear at the end of the corridor, his heart beating faster than after a high-intensity concert.
He regretted it.
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