Chapter 120 Chapter 120
YG remained silent. YG played dead. Despite rumors of a relationship, there was no concrete evidence, and the PR department decided not to comment. Fans have long since grown accustomed to it.
Not publicly acknowledging the incident is their bottom line. YG has firmly treaded on this line. As for the tabloids... they'll be chasing the next hot topic in a few days. The person most anxious about this matter is Yang Hyun-suk.
He has always been relatively indifferent to the love affairs of his artists. Personality and rules always have to be compromised. The perfect idol only exists in dreams - and the only loophole he leaves open is "love." In his opinion,
The source of creation has always been desire and excitement. Some seek it from love, while others turn to more extreme drugs and narcotics. In comparison, love is undoubtedly the safest outlet. Artists,
You can't just be stuck in the rules of being an idol. But Kwon Ji-yong and Lia, one is YG's cash cow, the other is the producer he values most besides Teddy right now - this relationship can't affect either side.
But after much hesitation, he could only occasionally offer indirect criticism. His attitude towards Lia had been quite subtle lately. Lia wasn't like Kwon Ji-yong. He had watched the latter grow up, and he knew exactly how to control her.
Lia had left the trainee program early, so it could be said that she had been raised in a free-range environment. Before that, the number of times he had spoken to her alone could be counted on one hand.
As her grades and position became increasingly important, Yang Hyun-seok felt the need to win over this young girl. However, he couldn't let go of his pride as the president, and Lia wasn't exactly a lively and proactive person.
He'd visited the studio a few times, under the pretext of checking in on Lee Hi's album progress. Lia didn't mind his presence, but she wasn't eager to engage either. After a few visits, he'd just sat there awkwardly for a while before leaving in frustration.
G-Dragon had just finished filming for Inkigayo, and when he received a message from Yang Hyun-suk, he thought the president was checking in on his comeback activities. His album, which was delayed for a month before its release, received a very positive response.
But right now, he can only sleep two or three hours a day. Yang Hyun-seok told him to be "cautious" about this relationship... Kwon Ji-yong frowned subconsciously. Teddy said the same thing.
As if he would do something to hurt Lia. He was obviously the one who loved her the most. Quan Zhilong threw his phone away in annoyance, picked it up after a moment, and replied with a gloomy face, "Okay."
After a few minutes, still feeling aggrieved, I glanced at the time and called Lia—it was Thursday afternoon, and she wasn't in school. The call went through quickly. "Oppa?"
There was the sound of shuffling papers on the other end, her tone brisk. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly. "In the recording studio." He murmured, "Hmm," but didn't say anything else, just listening quietly to the breathing in the background.
"What's wrong? Are you in a bad mood?" She was keenly aware of something unusual. These words seemed to have some magical effect, and Quan Zhilong's mood suddenly improved.
"No." He dragged out the last word, denying the speculation, and then added in a coquettish whisper, "I want to hear you talk." A chuckle came from the receiver: "Have you finished recording?" "Yeah, just now."
Kwon Ji-yong wanted to say how well he performed, but he felt embarrassed when the words came to his lips. Lia seemed to know what he was thinking: "Oppa, you look handsome today too." "Yeah." She raised her tail.
"Can you take a picture for me? We haven't seen each other for a long time." "I'm a bit busy today, wait until I'm free?" Lia didn't care and replied "Okay".
The person who claimed to be "a bit busy" had already curled up the corners of his mouth to his ears. He casually clicked on the speaker, turned on the front camera and started fiddling with it, preparing to "accidentally" send it again in the evening.
"By the way, Lia asked me to go to Jeju Island in December. Do you want to come?" His subordinate paused, remembering that this was the film producer Lia had mentioned. "Aren't you going back to the States?" "Well, before that."
Zheng Laicai invested in a hillside land in Seogwipo, Jeju Island and opened a small winery.
Strictly speaking, it's not really a "winery." Jeju's climate and soil aren't suitable for large-scale grape cultivation; the grapes are just a decorative addition; the real production comes from the local specialty, citrus wine.
She built a minimalist building on the hillside, half of which was used as a wine cellar and tasting room, and the other half as a small screening room and exhibition space to entertain directors, investors and fashion friends in Seoul.
"Ouni said that several of her investment friends would also be there. She thought it would be helpful to me in the future." Zheng Laicai is an investor. When she heard that she wanted to expand through Sony, she immediately thought of opening an independent studio in the future.
Lia thought she was quite forward-looking, but she didn't expect this sister to be so ruthless. Quan Zhilong was stunned for a moment when he heard this: "Investor... It's good." She mentioned Sony to him.
Publishing. He understood, of course, that this meant she was gradually entering a larger world. Yet, in some subtle corner, a subtle sense of unease was brewing. He knew the source of this unease.
For him, these things are still too far away. His life is almost completely tied to YG. It is not just a company, but the soil in which he grew up, a second home.
This emotion bound him, and he rarely considered leaving. Even though he knew intellectually that he might have to face it one day, emotionally, he didn't want to think too far ahead. In a way, YG was also their bond.
Perhaps for him, YG is a place where he belongs, a place he wants to stay. But for her, it is just the starting point and a stepping stone to a bigger world.
Perhaps realizing his tone had been off, he added, "I'll see, I think I can go." The silence was brief, but Lia was perceptive. Or perhaps she was gradually understanding her lover better than she'd thought.
When this matter was brought up, his reaction was always contradictory - rationally, he would put her feelings first and try to say supportive and considerate words. But the next second, he would unconsciously show hesitation, awkwardness, and even occasional coldness.
People who are accustomed to expressing themselves through their work find it more difficult to be honest in intimate relationships. The artistic personality is a buffer zone: naked desires and wounds, once processed artistically, are covered with a veil.
But in an intimate relationship, there's no such veil. Once all hesitation and vulnerability are exposed, they're left naked before the other person. It's a paradoxical state: a desire to be seen, yet an instinctive fear of being seen.
She strangely felt something behind his contradictory responses, but still didn't know how to get closer. "...Oppa." "Yeah..." "We'll always be together, right?"
"..." The other end of the line fell silent, only the sound of breathing gently vibrating against her ears. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was asking him for answers, confirming her love for him.
But the one who truly feels comforted isn't the one who asks the question. When love is asked for, the one who responds realizes more clearly that they are needed. In that moment, it's actually them who feels assured and reassured.
A long silence was finally broken by a low sigh on the other end of the line. He smiled, reassuringly, "...I will. Don't worry."
Lia breathed a sigh of relief, tapping her fingertips on the table twice before whispering, "Yeah." The subtle tension suddenly dissipated. "Ouni, you have a bouquet of flowers—"
Lee Hi walked in with a bouquet of roses. Seeing that she was on the phone, she immediately fell silent and sat down on a chair beside her. Lia tilted her head to glance at her, picked up the bouquet, and asked the person on the phone with a smile, "Oppa, did you order flowers again?"
"Ani." Quan Zhilong denied it casually, but realized something was wrong the next second and immediately asked, "Who sent it?" "Someone at work?" Lia guessed, putting the bouquet on the table and pulling out the greeting card that was sandwiched in it.
It was a simple pale pink card with no extra decorations, and a few small white flowers dotted the corners. She subconsciously thought it was from him - but then she thought, Quan Zhilong never sends things to the company.
Separating work and life was their tacit understanding. The person on the other end of the line had already come to their senses, now transformed into a jealous cat, grumbling bitterly, "...What am I, a bride left behind?"
"..." How on earth did he come up with such a strange metaphor? Lia flipped open the card and retorted, "It's such a shame that Oppa didn't go to the acting awards."
He continued to ramble on. She lowered her head, her gaze fixed on the open page. Blood-red handwriting, in a strange gesture, covered the blank page—"Leave him. This is your final warning." Her fingertips suddenly froze.
She stared blankly at the words, the smile on her face fading in a matter of seconds. Lee Hi noticed the change in her expression and leaned over, her face changing the next second. "What's wrong?" The person on the other end of the line noticed something was wrong and stopped joking.
Lia shook her head, gave Lee Hi a soothing smile, and mouthed the words "It's alright." "Isaac gave it to me," she said calmly, quickly finding an excuse. "I was a little surprised." Quan Zhilong didn't doubt it and reluctantly accepted the explanation.
If you ask any more, he will become a stingy man. The roses on the table are bright and juicy, and the layers of petals seem to be in full bloom.
There was still some lingering moisture on the edge, which slowly slid down along the veins of the flower, reflecting the light and seeping out like tiny beads of blood.
The bright colors should symbolize romance, but now they carry an inexplicable glare and weirdness, making the plain greeting card seem even colder.
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