Chapter 119 Chapter 119
The next night, Teddy held a small birthday party at a bar in Cheongdam-dong. The bar was small, semi-basement, and dimly lit. A few posters were haphazardly pasted on the cement-gray walls, and the DJ booth was in the back corner.
The volume was moderate, lively but not out of control. Several bottles of opened champagne and whiskey lay scattered on the table, the scent of citrus and alcohol filling the air. The mist from the fog machine intermittently drifted beneath the beams of light.
There was an air of ambiguity. Most of the people were familiar faces: artists from the company, producers, and friends from the fashion world, gathered in groups of three or four to chat.
When Lia pushed the door open, Teddy was leaning against the bar, chatting quietly with his girlfriend, Han Ye-seul. Seeing her, he raised his hand in greeting. Lia walked over, smiling and handing him the gift. "Happy birthday, Oppa."
Teddy took it and put it aside. Seeing her casually looking around, he couldn't help but laugh: "That kid is over there on the sofa." Sure enough, on the sofa in the corner,
Quan Zhilong was holding a glass of wine, surrounded by a few friends. He had obviously had a few drinks, and his expression was more excited than usual, but his posture was unusually relaxed.
He noticed her immediately, stood up, walked over with a smile, and without hesitation put his arm around her waist, naturally bringing her to his side. "What gift?" He had originally wanted to prepare it with her, but Lia had already prepared it.
She'd deliberately kept it a secret from him. "You'll know when Teddy opens it himself," Lia raised an eyebrow. Teddy, however, was also a bit mean-spirited, and upon hearing that, he didn't rush to open it. Quan Zhilong snorted in dissatisfaction and pinched her cheek.
A faint gasp echoed behind her. Although they hadn't intended to conceal their relationship from the beginning, most people still didn't know. For a moment, everyone's gaze fell on the hand he placed on her cheek.
The one who reacted the most was Kush. The incredibly insensitive person had clearly seen the two of them alone together before, but he didn't react until now. He appeared out of nowhere, his face accusing: "???!!!"
Lia kindly translated: "He asked us why we didn't tell him." Teddy glanced at him and said slowly: "Didn't you notice?" "????" Kush suspected that someone was calling him stupid, but he had no evidence.
"They didn't kiss in the studio, how would I know?" He couldn't help but grumble softly. She didn't even tell him she was in love. No wonder he was the only one talking in the group chat lately! "There are cameras in the studio," Quan Zhilong shrugged.
Kush's face was filled with a look of "How dare you say that?" Lia's face flushed, and with a smile, she reached out and pinched Quan Zhilong in protest. She had dignity, thank you. The person who had been so calm and composed just now immediately grimaced.
Just as she was about to pull her hand back, he grabbed her wrist, interlocking their fingers. Witnessing the entire situation, Kush turned around to complain, but then realized Teddy was also having a sweet time with his girlfriend—no one was paying any attention.
He left, couldn't he?! Kush's resentment drifted away, clutching his drink. Quan Zhilong seemed completely unfazed, pulling Lia to sit in a corner.
Lia took a cocktail and sipped it, her ears burning from the gazes of the crowd. He leaned in closer, half showing off, half joking: "Now I can't hide it even if I want to." "Oppa is drunk."
"I'm not drunk." His eyes sparkled, but his voice was low. "Let them think whatever they want." She was startled, only to realize that he was hinting at something. After a moment, she realized, "Did you see the news?" "Yes, the PR person came to ask about it during the day."
For him, this kind of thing was almost commonplace. With so much news, big and small, fabricated stories filling up the pages every day were no longer unusual. "So, what did Oppa say?"
Quan Zhilong raised his eyebrows and smiled slyly: "I said...it's true."
The company initially thought it was fake news and sent a new employee to confirm the information with him as a formality. But he made such a statement, and now the public relations department is probably in a state of panic.
Lia stared at him, unsure if he was drunk or serious. He leaned closer and whispered, "Why don't you just admit it?" His expression seemed relaxed, but his eyes were a little vague.
Intellectually, he knew he couldn't do that. Denial, or remaining silent... that was the basic rule of the industry, and it was a decision he had made long ago. He wasn't just him, and his decisions weren't just his.
He might have held her hand in such an occasion, but YG's announcement still couldn't acknowledge their relationship. Responsibility is an inescapable fate, and the future is destined to be full of compromises.
But that didn't mean he felt at ease, especially when she was caught up in the vortex. Alcohol weakened his sanity. He longed to embrace her in the sunshine, rather than always stealing moments of companionship in a confined space.
He cared about her reaction, feeling a surge of anxiety in his heart—he was afraid she would feel wronged, afraid that she would eventually withdraw from this relationship that could not be made public, and also afraid that he would disappoint her. He rarely showed such weakness in front of her.
The halo on the stage is so dazzling that it's easy to forget that he also has things he can't compete with. The rules of the industry, the market's perspective, these are not things he can change on his own.
This was a side of him he couldn't avoid; his naive idealism could only survive under the spotlight by cloaking himself in rationality. His eyes were inquiring, as if he was waiting for her answer.
Lia reached for the glass in front of him and took a sip, the spicy taste of the whiskey boiling in her throat. She put the glass down and looked up at him. Her first thought was whether this matter, if escalated, would drag him down and affect his career.
The two people, facing the same news, each harbored different concerns. "Oppa, do you think this is unfair to me?" Quan Zhilong was stunned for a moment, seemingly surprised by her bluntness. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded gently.
The spiciness of the whiskey hadn't yet dissipated, but an indescribable bitterness welled up in her chest. She looked at him quietly, letting out a soft breath. Suddenly, she reached out and wrapped her arms around him, as if traveling through countless moments in his life—
Those moments when I was burdened with heavy responsibilities, those moments when I shouldered everything alone while still worrying about others. "In my opinion, the only thing that matters is the fact that I am with you." Quan Zhilong was stunned.
Both he and she knew clearly that the question he posed wasn't just a joke, but a careful self-exposure. Could she accept him like this? He seemed omnipotent, yet in reality he was always trapped and powerless?
And she said, "Thank you for your hard work." The music and noise outside continued to surge, and the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses rose and fell. He subconsciously reached out and gently hugged her back.
The tightness in my chest gradually dissipated, as if I had finally found a safe place to settle down. ... In the second half of the party, Quan Zhilong was in a good mood and couldn't help but have a few more drinks.
Outside the bar, reporters were already waiting at the door, their cameras trained on every figure that emerged. To avoid trouble, they went their separate ways, each getting into a different car.
It wasn't until they entered their Cheongdam-dong home that the flashing lights outside finally faded away. He was truly drunk. He tossed his coat carelessly at the entrance, but he clung to her stubbornly.
Lia was half-pushed, half-dragged by him into the living room. His tone was thick with alcohol, but his actions were more direct than usual. As soon as she sat down, he lowered his head, embraced her, and buried his face in the crook of her neck.
"Are you tired?" she asked softly, her palm covering the back of his neck, her fingertips sliding through his hair soothingly. He shook his head, his breath hot, but he still refused to raise his face.
In the silence, only the rapid rise and fall of his chest pressed against her. After a moment, he suddenly said in a muffled voice: "...Do you love me?" She was startled.
He couldn't wait for a response and raised his head again. His amber eyes were filled with drunkenness, and he looked directly into her eyes, half coquettishly and half stubbornly: "Do you love me?"
As if using the alcohol to get to the bottom of things, his tone grew lower and lower, yet more serious each time. Lia suddenly realized that he wasn't as relaxed as he usually appeared. The intoxication had magnified all his anxieties.
Before she could answer, he leaned in, his lips pressed against hers. Eager, yet clumsy. His arms were so tight, as if she would disappear if he loosened them. The scent of alcohol lingered on him, and his movements were almost uncontrollable.
Only under the influence of alcohol could he be so open and honest. She had never said "love." She had always said "like." That was her defense, the restraint she maintained until she was sure. She thought he hadn't noticed. Perhaps she had drunk too much.
Between breaths, she spoke, her voice so soft it was almost drowned out by her heartbeat. "...Love," she said. As soon as the words left her mouth, they both froze.
Quan Zhilong was stunned for a moment, then he let out a long breath. His breathing was rapid, and the smell of alcohol still lingered between his lips and teeth, but he couldn't help but kiss her again.
Unlike the eager touch just now, this time, he seemed to pour all his emotions into her, deeper than before, sometimes light, sometimes heavy, with temptation and coercion, leaving her with nowhere to retreat.
She was held tightly in his arms, her back resting on the soft sofa. The only sounds in the living room were her messy breathing and heartbeat.
His hand wandered restlessly, slowly exploring the fabric, his fingertips with a cool, intrusive feeling that could not be ignored, shivering on her warm skin. Lia's breath hitched, and the fingers on the back of his neck subconsciously tightened.
His kisses trailed down her features, down the corners of her lips, down the sides of her neck, down her collarbone... like a believer begging for a miracle, their breaths mingling, and she felt like she was descending into the clouds. Suddenly, he stopped, his voice low and hoarse, "...Is it okay?"
Lia's ears burned, but she whispered, "Yeah." He was still worried, so he whispered in her ear again. She didn't dare raise her eyes, so she could only nod vigorously. The next moment, all her restraint was completely broken.
Under the dim light, their breathing and heartbeats intertwined, and the night swallowed up the two of them little by little.
The living room was so quiet that it seemed isolated from the world, the outside noise completely shut out. Only whispers, explorations, and touches remained, gradually approaching the depths that could not be avoided. Her consciousness fell into the abyss, and in a trance, she seemed to hear him whisper:
…I love you.
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