11: Chapter 11 was quite fierce.

Lee Qri's surgery was a success. The orthopedic surgeon in charge personally assured Song Tianhao that they used the most advanced arthroscopic minimally invasive technology, cleaning up the worn cartilage and repairing the damaged ligaments.

If Lee Qri's postoperative recovery goes well, it won't affect her daily life, but high-intensity dance movements will indeed require a long, gradual rehabilitation process; it's impossible in the short term.

This result was within expectations.

Song Tianhao didn't say much, merely instructing Jang Seung-hwan to finalize the schedule for the top-tier rehabilitation therapist they had previously contacted. He also asked the designer, Han Seong-soo, to come up with a modification plan for the promotional outfits as soon as possible—they needed to be elegant, capable of masking the limitations of her leg movements to the greatest extent, and even include some stage poses suitable for showcasing "static charm."

In the hospital room, Lee Qri accepted all of this calmly, even beginning to proactively perform the extremely light activities allowed by the doctor on her hospital bed. The ashen despair on her face had vanished, replaced by a composed determination that carried the weight of burning her bridges.

When Song Tianhao visited occasionally, she would proactively ask about the team's training progress and the design of the new promotional outfits. She would also hold her tablet to watch the practice videos sent by her sisters, earnestly offering suggestions on their vocals or expressions.

The term "visual anchor point" seemed to have truly become a stabilizing force in her heart. Within the limited conditions, she began to think about how to "be so beautiful even while sitting that people ignore the fact that she is sitting."

Training at the Villa did not cease due to Lee Qri's absence; on the contrary, with the debut date drawing near, the atmosphere became even more tense.

As the leader, Soyeon was under immense pressure, but she transformed that pressure into stricter self-demands and occasional "fierce" supervision of her younger sisters. Jeon Boram grew increasingly confident in her position as lead vocalist, and that unique timbre became a surprisingly memorable "hook" in the songs.

Hyomin and Park Ji-yeon encouraged each other—one delving into the details of the dance, the other working hard to overcome the impact of old injuries. Everyone was holding their breath, determined to elevate the team's overall strength to another level while Lee Qri was temporarily absent.

Except for Ham Eunjung, whose training was beyond reproach. As the main dancer, her strength, timing, and expressiveness were top-notch, and she learned new moves the fastest.

During practice, she was always the one charging ahead, with self-demands so strict they bordered on self-abuse.

Teacher Kim praised her for her significant vocal improvement, noting a newfound, resilient strength in her voice that wasn't there before. The choreography teacher also praised her as the team's "reassurance pill"; with her leading at the front, the framework of the entire dance remained stable.

But Song Tianhao could sense that beneath Ham Eunjung's calm exterior, there was a suppressed, burning sense of anxiety and restlessness.

This emotion would leak out from her tightly pressed lips, slightly furrowed brows, and more forceful physical movements when she saw Lee Qri persisting in watching practice videos and giving suggestions from her hospital bed, when she heard Jeon Boram successfully master another difficult high-pitched section, or even when she herself failed to perform a certain move perfectly.

She was like a bow pulled too taut, the string stretched so tight it seemed ready to snap at any moment.

Training ended that day at eleven in the evening. The girls were all exhausted, leaning on each other as they went upstairs to wash up and rest. Song Tianhao stayed in the dance studio for a while longer, finishing organizing the day's training records and the data on the tablet before turning off the lights and leaving.

On the way back to the apartment, he suddenly remembered that Jang Seung-hwan had mentioned in the afternoon that a new 24-hour high-end gym had opened near the Villa. It had complete equipment, a good environment, was membership-based, and offered good privacy.

During his daily sign-ins, he had acquired the "Basic Combat" skill, but he had never had the chance to actually test it out. The original owner's body seemed to have some muscle memory in this regard as well. Perhaps he could go exercise a bit and release some pressure.

He turned the car around and followed the address to find the gym. In the dead of night, the brightly lit gym was almost empty, with only a staff member on duty at the front desk nodding off. Song Tianhao presented the membership card Jang Seung-hwan had prepared in advance and walked in.

The equipment area was empty, with only various metal machines glinting coldly under the overhead lights. He changed into sportswear and did some warm-ups. Just as he was preparing to try the punching bags in the boxing area, he suddenly heard a dull, rhythmic "thud, thud, thud" of impact coming from the innermost area.

Someone was still here this late? Song Tianhao was somewhat surprised and walked over, following the sound.

The sound came from the independent boxing training area, where a figure stood with their back to the door, striking a hanging heavy bag with all their might.

The person was wearing a black tight-fitting sports tank top and matching sports shorts. Her figure was well-proportioned and powerful—not the kind with exaggerated muscle bulk, but a physique with smooth lines and full of explosive power.

Sweat had already soaked her tank top, spreading dark marks across her shoulder blades and spine. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail, whipping violently with every punch.

It turned out to be Ham Eunjung.

Song Tianhao stopped in his tracks, leaned against the doorframe, and watched quietly.

Ham Eunjung was hitting with great intensity, even a bit… ferociously. Her fists were encased in professional black boxing gloves, and every straight punch, hook, and uppercut carried the sound of tearing wind, slamming heavily into the punching bag and causing the heavy bag to shake violently.

Her footwork was agile as she moved around the punching bag. Her gaze was focused and sharp, her lips tightly pressed, her breathing heavy, and sweat rolled down her forehead like rain. This wasn't just exercise; it was more like a release, pouring out the emotions from the day's training, and something deeper, through her fists.

Her movements were standard, and her power generation was fluid; she had clearly trained before and wasn't just putting on a show. Song Tianhao noticed that her left wrist seemed to be wrapped in a thicker bandage than usual during training. When punching, the force and frequency of her left fist seemed slightly weaker than her right, but she didn't care at all, instead hitting even harder.

At this moment, Ham Eunjung threw a fierce right hook followed by a left uppercut, sending the punching bag flying high. She gasped slightly, stepped back half a pace to adjust her breathing, and her gaze inadvertently swept across the doorway, then suddenly froze.

She saw Song Tianhao leaning against the doorframe.

In that instant, a multitude of emotions flashed across Ham Eunjung's face: surprise, panic, a trace of embarrassment at having her secret discovered, and a rapidly emerging effort to maintain composure.

She stopped moving and stood in place, her chest heaving from the intense exercise, sweat dripping down her chin. She didn't bow to greet him as she usually did, but just stood there, looking at Song Tianhao somewhat helplessly, like a small beast caught doing something wrong.

Song Tianhao didn't speak either, his gaze sweeping calmly over her sweat-drenched face, her bandaged wrist, and the punching bag that was still swaying slightly. The late-night gym was extremely quiet, with only the faint sound of the air conditioner running and the somewhat stagnant air between the two.

A few seconds later, Song Tianhao straightened up and walked in. He went to the rack where protective gear was kept, picked up another pair of black boxing gloves, and put them on without haste.

Ham Eunjung watched his series of movements, the panic on her face intensifying. Her lips moved, as if she wanted to explain something: "President, I... I just couldn't sleep and wanted to come exercise a bit. I promise it won't affect tomorrow's train..."

"Next time you box," Song Tianhao interrupted her, having finished putting on his right glove and flexing his fingers. His voice sounded clear and calm in the empty boxing area. "Call me to join you."

Ham Eunjung was completely stunned. Call her to join? The President boxes too? Shouldn't he be scolding her for adding extra training without permission and disregarding her physical recovery? Shouldn't he be warning her that this would affect the team's training?

Song Tianhao ignored her stupor and had already walked to another punching bag, assuming a basic boxing stance.

His posture was very standard, even carrying a sense of relaxation and alertness that only comes after systematic training; he didn't look like a novice at all. This was the combined effect of the "Basic Combat" skill rewarded by the system through his daily sign-ins and the original owner's muscle memory.

He tried a few jabs, the movements fast and accurate, carrying a clear sound of tearing through the air. Then he turned his head to look at Ham Eunjung, who was still dazed: "Continue. Don't stop."

Ham Eunjung subconsciously let out an "Oh" and faced her punching bag again, but her movements were obviously a bit stiff. Her mind was completely not on her fists, and the corner of her eye kept glancing at Song Tianhao beside her.

Song Tianhao didn't mind her, practicing on the punching bag on his own. Straight punches, hooks, uppercuts, combinations... His movements became increasingly fluid, the force controlled just right, his breathing steady, and his gaze focused.

He didn't have the venting-like ferocity that Ham Eunjung had; it was more like he was finely polishing a craft, striving for every movement to be standard and efficient.

As Ham Eunjung watched, she gradually forgot her embarrassment, and her boxer's instincts were triggered.

She began to focus on her own punching bag again, but no longer just to vent; instead, she subconsciously began to imitate and correct certain more subtle details in Song Tianhao's movements. The sound of the two people's strikes intertwined in the empty gym, creating a strange harmony.

After boxing for about twenty minutes, both of them were quite sweaty. Song Tianhao stopped, walked over to grab a bottle of sports drink, unscrewed it, and took a few sips. He then grabbed another bottle and walked over to Ham Eunjung's punching bag, handing it to her.

[part:gemini-3.5-flash]

Ham Eunjung took it, thanked him in a low voice, and unscrewed the cap. Instead of throwing her head back and drinking deeply like she usually did after training, she took small sips, drinking very slowly as if she were hesitating over something.

"Did your father teach you?" Song Tianhao suddenly asked in a casual tone.

Ham Eunjung's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, and her hand gripping the water bottle tightened. She remained silent for a few seconds before giving a low "Mm." "He... used to be a boxer. He wasn't very famous, and he retired later after getting injured."

She paused and added in an even lower voice, "I was raised like a boy by him since I was a child. Running, boxing, physical labor... He said it would make it harder for others to bully me."

Song Tianhao didn't speak, only looking at her. Her sweat-slicked hair clung to her cheeks, stripping away some of her usual heroic spirit and replacing it with the exhaustion and softness typical of a girl her age. The thick bandage on her left wrist looked somewhat glaring under the lights.

"So," Ham Eunjung suddenly raised her head to look at Song Tianhao, her eyes filled with a mix of stubbornness and confusion, "I might... not be like normal girls. I don't know how to act cute, I don't know how to show weakness, and when I'm angry, I just want to hit things."

"My dad said that with my temper, I won't be able to find a boyfriend in the future."

"Does boxing have anything to do with acting cute or having a boyfriend?" Song Tianhao asked back in a flat tone.

Ham Eunjung was stumped by the question.

Song Tianhao put down his drink and put his boxing gloves back on. "Let's do a few more sets. You teach me."

"T-Teach you?" Ham Eunjung stammered again.

"Yeah. I only know some basics. Your father was a professional, so you must have inherited his true teachings." Song Tianhao had already walked to the center of the ring, striking an inviting pose for sparring. "Come on, give it a try."

Looking at Song Tianhao's serious gaze, the awkwardness and unease in Ham Eunjung's heart dissipated a lot. Taking a deep breath, she also walked to the center of the ring and got into a stance.

The two began a simple offensive and defensive sparring session, with Ham Eunjung mainly guiding and Song Tianhao learning evasion and blocking techniques.

At first, Ham Eunjung was still a bit held back, afraid of hurting President Song. But she soon discovered that Song Tianhao's reaction speed and physical coordination were extraordinarily good. He picked up many techniques as soon as they were taught, and he was as slippery as an eel when dodging. Her competitive spirit was aroused, and her movements gradually grew larger.

During a rapid exchange of probing combinations, Ham Eunjung feinted with a right jab and followed up with a left hook.

Song Tianhao tilted his head to dodge the jab, but Ham Eunjung's left hook came too fast and from a tricky angle. He was half a step slow in blocking, and the edge of her glove grazed his left cheekbone.

There was a dull thud.

Ham Eunjung's face instantly turned deathly pale. She pulled back her fist and retreated in a panic. "P-President! I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to! Are you alright?"

Her voice cracked with anxiety. She wanted to step forward to check on him but didn't dare.

Song Tianhao touched his grazed cheekbone. It stung a little, but it wasn't serious. Looking at Ham Eunjung, who seemed on the verge of tears from fright, he shook his head.

"I'm fine," he said. Then, under Ham Eunjung's terrified gaze, he actually curled the corner of his mouth in an almost imperceptible smile and commented:

"Good strength."

Ham Eunjung froze, looking at him as if he were a monster. The President... wasn't angry? He even praised her strength?

Song Tianhao stretched his neck and got back into position. "Let's continue. Do that combination from just now again. I want to see how to defend against it."

Ham Eunjung's heart was still pounding, but she was infected by the President's calmness. Suppressing her lingering fear, she refocused.

This time, she was more earnest and also more relaxed. Not only did she teach him techniques, but she also occasionally explained the principles of generating power and tactical concepts.

Song Tianhao learned quickly. As they traded blows back and forth with sweat flying, they actually developed a bit of chemistry.

During a break, Ham Eunjung sat on the floor, hugging her knees. Looking at her bandaged wrist, she suddenly murmured in a low voice, as if talking to herself, or perhaps asking Song Tianhao:

"My dad said... a girl boxing has no future and won't make anything of herself. It's better to get married early and settle down."

She raised her head and looked at Song Tianhao, who was taking off his boxing gloves. With a complex gaze carrying a trace of imperceptible anticipation and fear, she asked softly:

"President... what do you think?"

Song Tianhao took off his gloves and set them aside. He picked up a towel to wipe his sweat, not answering immediately.

Just then, the gym owner, probably having heard the commotion, approached with a beaming smile, clearly recognizing Song Tianhao as the newly crowned Best Actor.

"President Song! Oh my, it really is you! Your presence brings light to my humble establishment!"

The owner rubbed his hands together, his face full of smiles. "Why are you training by yourself? I'll immediately arrange our best female coach for you. Guaranteed to be professional and easy on the eyes..." As he spoke, his gaze swept over Ham Eunjung's sweat-soaked sports tank top and shorts with a hint of appraisal.

Song Tianhao paused in wiping his sweat. He put down the towel, looked at the owner, and then raised his hand to point at Ham Eunjung sitting nearby, his tone completely flat:

"No need."

"My coach," he said clearly and undisputedly, "is right here."

The owner's smile froze on his face. He looked at Song Tianhao, then at the expressionless Ham Eunjung, and nodded awkwardly, "Ah... yes, yes, so this young lady is... Please, help yourself, help yourself!" Having said that, he quickly slipped away.

Sitting there, Ham Eunjung felt as if her heart had been gently nudged by something. The President said... she was his coach.

Ignoring the owner, Song Tianhao looked back at Ham Eunjung, answering her previous question:

"Your father was a boxer, and he told you that a girl boxing has no future." Song Tianhao's tone remained flat. "So are you a boxer now?"

Ham Eunjung shook her head.

"You are the main dancer of T-ara, an idol who is about to debut with 'Bo Peep Bo Peep'." Song Tianhao picked up the functional beverage and took another sip. "The physical strength, endurance, sense of rhythm, explosive power, and that unyielding spirit you developed from boxing since childhood are all being used on the stage now. You call that having no future?"

"As for getting married and settling down... that's something for the distant future. Before that, you should first use the fists your father taught you, and everything you've earned yourself, to secure your footing."

He set the beverage bottle aside, walked over to the rack holding protective gear, picked up a pen and a sticky note, wrote a few words, and then walked over to the punching bag Ham Eunjung had been hitting earlier and stuck the note onto it.

The note read: [See you tomorrow, Coach Ham.]

Having done all this, he picked up his things and said to Ham Eunjung, who was still sitting on the floor, "I'm leaving. Go back and rest. Don't be late tomorrow."

Watching his retreating figure walk toward the door, Ham Eunjung suddenly stood up and followed. "President, I'll see you to the door."

The two walked silently to the gym's entrance. The late-night wind blew with a chill, and Ham Eunjung, wearing only her sweat-soaked sports tank top, couldn't help but shiver.

Song Tianhao stopped and looked back at her. The streetlights outlined his tall, straight silhouette and his expressionless profile.

Looking at him, Ham Eunjung took a deep breath, and as if gathering all her courage, she suddenly spoke:

"President, can I ask you a question?"

Song Tianhao nodded. "Ask."

"Are you..." Ham Eunjung paused, her fingers unconsciously picking at the rough stitching on the edge of her boxing gloves—those old gloves, with the inner side of the black leather thumb crudely patched with pink thread, presented a very subtle contrast. "Are you... this nice to everyone?"

Having asked, she stared intently into Song Tianhao's eyes, not wanting to miss even the slightest change in his expression.

Song Tianhao didn't seem to expect her to ask this. He remained silent for a few seconds, as if in thought. The night wind ruffled the slightly damp, stray hairs on his forehead.

"It depends on the person," he gave a brief answer.

Ham Eunjung's heart sank slightly, but unwilling to give up, she pressed further, "Then what about me?"

Song Tianhao looked at her, his gaze lingering on her sweat-slicked face that was filled with tension and anticipation. Then, he pulled the collar of his overcoat tight to block out the night wind, his voice carrying clearly through the wind:

"You are Ham Eunjung."

He paused, as if stating the simplest of facts.

"So I treat you the way I treat Ham Eunjung."

With that, he didn't linger any longer. He turned and walked toward his car parked by the roadside, pulled open the door, sat inside, and quickly drove away.

Ham Eunjung stood alone at the gym entrance. The night wind gave her goosebumps, but she was completely oblivious to it. She merely stared blankly in the direction where the car had disappeared, unconsciously repeating those words in a soft whisper:

"The way I treat Ham Eunjung..."

She lowered her head and looked at the old boxing gloves on her hands. The pink stitching at the thumb gleamed faintly under the streetlights.

The icy night wind poured into her sweat-soaked clothes, yet she felt a certain place in her chest being gently and comfortably warmed, as if by the "Coach Ham" note stuck on that punching bag and that phrase "the way I treat Ham Eunjung" from just now.