123: Chapter 123 Determined to Cause Trouble

Jessica Jung held her sister, gently patting her back with a tender smile on her face. The morning light shone upon her face, casting a warm glow over her pale cheeks.

Her eyes were red, but her gaze was bright and determined.

Krystal Jung's arrival eased the somewhat oppressive atmosphere in the hospital room.

"Unnie..." Krystal Jung held Jessica Jung's hand, her voice still trembling with tears. "Does it still hurt?"

Jessica Jung shook her head and gave a forced smile. "It doesn't hurt anymore. Is your performance over?"

"Yeah, I rushed back as soon as it ended." Krystal Jung sniffled and pulled a small box out of her backpack. "This is from the fans; they asked me to bring it to you. It's all blessing cards and small gifts. They said... for you to recover well, and that they'll be waiting for your return."

Jessica Jung took the box without a word, her fingers gently stroking its edges.

Song Tianhao watched, then quietly closed the door.

He took out his phone and dialed a number.

"How are the preparations for the press conference going?"

"Everything is ready, President. The media has been notified, the venue is set up, and the speech has been written."

"Good," Song Tianhao said. "Also, add one more thing."

"Please, go ahead."

"Issue a bounty notice in the name of Sky Entertainment," Song Tianhao said. His voice was calm, but beneath that calm lay a cold intensity. "Anyone who can provide evidence that Mrs. Zheng is colluding with CJ Entertainment with the intent to harm Ms. Jessica Jung will be rewarded with one billion won. If the evidence is conclusive, it will be paid out on the spot."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the line, then a voice said, "President, isn't that a bit..."

"Do it." Song Tianhao cut him off, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. "I want everyone to know what happens to those who mess with my people."

"...Yes, President."

Hanging up the phone, Song Tianhao stood in the hallway, looking out at the sky that was gradually brightening outside the window. His eyes were cold and sharp.

But inside, he was very calm.

Because he knew that from today on, some things had to be settled once and for all.

Some people had to pay the price.

The morning sunlight streamed through the VIP hospital room window, cutting neat patches of light onto the floor.

Krystal Jung hugged her sister and cried for a good while before Tiffany Hwang pulled her over to sit on a nearby chair.

The young girl's eyes were as swollen as peaches, and she refused to let go of Jessica Jung's hand, rambling with complaints: "Unnie, you scared me to death. I was at rehearsal when I got the call, and I nearly fell off the stage... How could you be so careless..."

Jessica Jung smiled weakly and patted her sister's hair with her hand that wasn't hooked up to an IV. "I'm fine, don't worry."

"You call this fine?" Krystal Jung's voice returned to a crying tone as she pointed at her leg, which was immobilized in a cast. "What did the doctor say? How long until it heals? Will it affect your dancing in the future? What about your next comeback? And the tour..."

A series of questions were thrown out, each one hitting a sore spot.

The smile on Jessica Jung's lips faded slightly, and her eyes grew vacant. She took the cup of water Tiffany Hwang handed her, taking small sips of the warm water, her gaze drifting out the window to the spire of the Seoul Tower, saying nothing.

The hospital room fell silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of the instruments.

Tiffany Hwang looked at Jessica Jung, then at Krystal Jung, and let out a soft sigh. She walked to Jessica Jung's bedside, sat on the edge of the bed, and took her other hand.

"Jessica," Tiffany Hwang began, her tone rare in its seriousness. "Do you remember the Black Ocean?"

Jessica Jung's eyelashes fluttered.

"Back then, we held each other and cried in the waiting room." Tiffany Hwang's voice was soft, but every word was articulated clearly. "Everyone was booing us, and the audience was pitch black, without a single cheering light."

She paused, looked into Jessica Jung's eyes, and repeated word for word: "You held me, your hands were shaking, but you said, 'Even if there's only one person left listening, I will still sing.'"

Jessica Jung's fingers tightened around the cup.

"It's the same now," Tiffany Hwang said, her eyes reddening again, but her voice remained steady. "Even if it takes ten years to learn to walk again, I will be with you. The President will too, and everyone else. We are all here—Girls Generation is here, Sky is here—not a single one of us will be missing."

Song Tianhao stood by the window, his back to the light, his figure appearing exceptionally tall and straight in the morning glow. He turned around, looked at Jessica Jung, and nodded.

"And," he added, his voice not loud but possessing a reassuring strength, "we won't need ten years."

He took out his phone, unlocked it, pulled up a page, walked to the bedside, and turned the screen toward Jessica Jung.

On the screen was a detailed document, entirely in English, accompanied by professional images and charts.

At the very top was the name of the institution: the Swiss Zurich Sports Medicine and Rehabilitation Center, one of the top sports injury treatment facilities in the world.

Below was a long list of experts, each name followed by a long list of titles and honors. Further down were treatment plans, rehabilitation cycles, success rate data...

"Once your condition stabilizes and the inflammation subsides, we will go here."

Song Tianhao said, his finger sliding across the screen to show photos of the facility's interior: bright rehabilitation rooms, top-tier equipment, and the snowy scenery of the Alps outside the window. "Money, time, the best doctors—whatever you need, I will provide. Your leg will heal, you will be able to dance, and the stage is still waiting for you."

Jessica Jung looked at the screen, then at Song Tianhao, then at Tiffany Hwang.

Tiffany Hwang nodded vigorously, tears falling and splashing onto their joined hands.

Jessica Jung closed her eyes, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes and soaking into her hair at her temples.

But this time, she did not suppress her sobs. She just softly, ever so softly, squeezed a syllable from her throat: "Mm."

The sound was very light, like a feather landing, but in the quiet hospital room, it was clearly audible.

Krystal Jung covered her mouth, crying and laughing at the same time.

Tiffany Hwang also laughed, her tears flowing even more fiercely, but her smile was exceptionally radiant.

Song Tianhao put away his phone and watched Jessica Jung crying with her eyes closed. He said nothing, simply reaching out to gently wipe the tear tracks from her cheeks.

His fingers were warm.

After seven o'clock, voices gradually filled the hospital corridor. Nurses came to do rounds, check temperatures, examine wounds, and record data.

The anesthesia had worn off, and waves of pain washed over Jessica Jung's leg. Her face was pale, but she bit her lip and didn't make a sound.

Around 7:30, the hospital room door was knocked on again.

This time, it was Kim Taeyeon who arrived.

The leader of Girls Generation was wearing a light gray tracksuit, no makeup, her hair tied up in a casual ponytail. She was carrying a thermos, and there were faint dark circles under her eyes, clearly indicating she hadn't slept well all night.

"President." She first nodded at Song Tianhao, her tone respectful, but her gaze lingered on him for two extra seconds. Seeing the bloodshot eyes, her lips moved, but in the end, she said nothing.

She walked to the bedside, placed the thermos on the nightstand, and opened the lid, releasing the aroma of warm white porridge.

"I cooked some porridge with shredded chicken; it's very light," Kim Taeyeon said, scooping a small bowl and testing the temperature before handing it to Tiffany Hwang. "Tiffany, feed her a little. She hasn't eaten anything since last night, right?"

Tiffany Hwang took the bowl and nodded.

Kim Taeyeon then sat on the chair by the bedside, looked at Jessica Jung, was silent for a few seconds, and asked, "Does it hurt?"

Jessica Jung tugged at the corner of her mouth. "It's okay."

"Liar," Kim Taeyeon ruthlessly exposed her, though her voice was soft. "You're as pale as paper."

Jessica Jung didn't speak.

Kim Taeyeon sighed, pulled a box of fruit candies from her small bag, poured out two, popped one into Jessica Jung's mouth, and ate one herself.

This was their habit, left over from their trainee days: whenever someone was upset, they would share a candy, as if that little bit of sweetness could dilute all the bitterness.

"The members are all on their way," Kim Taeyeon said, her voice slightly muffled with the candy in her mouth. "Sunny and Kim Hyoyeon went to buy flowers, Choi Sooyoung and Kwon Yuri went to buy fruit, and Im Yoona and the maknae... they said they wanted to bring you the most expensive supplements and maxed out their cards."

Jessica Jung wanted to smile, but her injury hurt, so she could only crinkle her eyes.

"As for the music shows, the company has already coordinated everything. We won't be participating this week, and we'll see about next week," Kim Taeyeon continued, her tone steady as if reporting on work. "For the fans, we've posted announcements on the official fan cafe and SNS, saying you have a minor sprain and need a week of rest. As for the specifics... we'll talk about that once you're better."

This was protection, as well as strategy. Before the truth was uncovered and the situation became clear, they couldn't reveal the true extent of the injury; they couldn't hand a knife to their opponents.

Jessica Jung understood and nodded.

"Also," Kim Taeyeon paused, glanced at Song Tianhao beside them, then looked back at Jessica Jung. "Your mother... called me last night."

Jessica Jung's body stiffened almost imperceptibly.

"She asked about your condition, and I told her," Kim Taeyeon said calmly. "She said she would come to see you today, and I said to wait for the company's arrangements. She... her tone was a bit urgent, asking me why I wouldn't let her come immediately, and I said the President is here, so everything is up to the President's arrangements."

These words were spoken very artfully. They both conveyed the information and established a stance: between the company and your mother, I stand with the company, I stand with the President.

Jessica Jung looked at Kim Taeyeon for a long time, then softly said, "Thank you, Taeyeon."

Kim Taeyeon shook her head, poured another candy from the box, and popped it into her mouth. "Eat more, replenish your blood sugar. Don't think too much; the only thing you need to do right now is recover well. For everything else, there's the President, there's me, and there's everyone."

Jessica Jung held the two candies in her mouth, her cheeks puffed out a little, looking a bit childish, but her eyes finally had some life in them.

After eight o'clock, the other members arrived one after another.

Sunny and Kim Hyoyeon carried a large bouquet of sunflowers, golden and blooming brilliantly. Choi Sooyoung and Kwon Yuri carried two large fruit baskets filled with the most expensive seasonal Shine Muscat grapes and strawberries.

Im Yoona and Seohyun arrived last, both carrying bags full of supplement boxes—Korean ginseng, red ginseng juice, lingzhi spore powder—all exquisitely packaged and clearly expensive.

The small VIP room was suddenly crowded with people, but no one was noisy. Everyone sat or stood around the hospital bed, talking in low voices, occasionally someone telling a dad joke, trying to make Jessica Jung laugh.

The atmosphere was, for once, a little lighter.

Song Tianhao retreated to the window, leaving the space to them. He watched this group of girls; the youngest, Seohyun, had just turned nineteen, and the oldest, Kim Taeyeon, was only twenty-one, but in the entertainment industry, in this place that eats people without spitting out the bones, they had already been struggling and grinding for four or five years.

They would cry, they would be afraid, they would hurt, but when they were together, they were like a patch of wild grass—unextinguishable by fire, regrowing with the wind.

He took out his phone and sent a text message to Jang Se-hoon: "How are the preparations for the press conference going?"

A few seconds later, a reply came: "Everything is ready. Ten o'clock, the press conference hall on the first floor of the company. Also, regarding Mrs. Zheng, the lawyer has made contact, and she said she will come to the company to talk this afternoon."

Song Tianhao replied with an "Mm" and put away his phone.

Just then, a noisy sound vaguely came from outside the hospital room.

At first, it was very faint, like the commotion of a distant market. But the sound got closer and louder, mixed with footsteps, voices, and... the sound of camera shutters?

Song Tianhao frowned, walked to the door, and looked out through the small glass window on the door.

At the other end of the corridor, a group of reporters carrying cameras, holding microphones, and raising voice recorders was swarming this way. The hospital security guards tried to stop them, but the disparity in numbers was too great, and several security guards were knocked off balance by the crowd.

"What's going on?" Kim Taeyeon also heard the commotion and stood up.

"Reporters." Song Tianhao said briefly, then turned to gesture to the girls in the ward, "Stay here, don't come out."

He opened the door, walked out, and pulled the door shut behind him.

The corridor was already in chaos. About twenty or so reporters, with cameras and lenses, blocked the VIP ward area corridor completely.

Camera flashes were popping continuously, like a small lightning storm.

Various questions were fired over like bullets:

"President Song! How serious is Jessica Jung's injury exactly?"

"Is it as the rumors say, a permanent injury that requires retirement?"

"What will happen to Girls Generation's subsequent activities? Will they disband?"

"Has the cause of the accident been determined? Was it a problem with the stage equipment?"

"There are rumors that this accident was man-made, is it true?"

Song Tianhao stood at the ward door, his figure straight and his expression calm. He did not answer immediately, just swept his gaze across the crowd of reporters; his eyes were very indifferent, but those he looked at all paused subconsciously.

The noise quieted down a little.

"Now is not the time for an interview." Song Tianhao spoke, his voice not loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly, "Regarding Jessica Jung's injury and subsequent arrangements, Sky Entertainment will officially explain at the press conference at ten o'clock this morning. This is a hospital, a place for patients to rest, please keep quiet and leave here."

His tone was very calm, but every word carried an unquestionable weight.

A reporter was relentless: "President Song, can't you just give a simple response? The fans are very worried!"

"Yeah, say a few words! Is she going to retire?"

"Will Girls Generation disband?"

Questions surged up again.

Song Tianhao looked at the group, his gaze landing on the faces of a few of them. There was a male reporter wearing black-rimmed glasses, with the logo of a CJ Entertainment news channel on his microphone, pushing to the front, his eyes filled with the excitement of a predator.

Song Tianhao noted that face.

"I said," he repeated, his voice cooling by a degree, "The press conference is at ten. Now, please leave."

He took half a step forward, blocking the ward door perfectly. This movement was subtle; there was no physical contact, but it formed an invisible barrier.

Several reporters who wanted to push forward stopped subconsciously.

But that CJ reporter seemed determined to cause trouble; not only did he not retreat, but he pushed forward even more, his microphone almost poking into Song Tianhao's face: "President Song, are you avoiding the topic like this because the rumors are true? Is Jessica Jung really injured to the point where she can't dance anymore? Is the brand of Girls Generation going to collapse?"

This question was extremely tricky and vicious, carrying a clear sense of provocation.

The corridor was quiet for a moment.

Then, the ward door was suddenly opened from the inside.

Tiffany Hwang pushed a wheelchair out. On the wheelchair, Jessica Jung was wearing a hospital gown, draped with Song Tianhao's suit jacket, which he had casually placed on the back of the chair when he left just now.

Her face was pale, her lips were devoid of color, her leg was in a thick cast, and she looked thin and fragile.

But her back was straight, her chin slightly raised, and her eyes swept across the crowd of reporters in front of her; there was no dodging, no panic, only a cold calm after being pushed to the brink.

The flashes went off like crazy, and the sound of shutters merged into one.

"Jessica Jung! May I ask about your injury..."

"Are you going to retire?"

"Girls Generation..."

Questions drowned out the corridor again.

Jessica Jung raised her hand and made a "quiet" gesture.

It was strange; she was clearly very weak, and her voice wasn't loud, but when that gesture was made, the reporters actually gradually quieted down. Everyone looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

"I will not retire."

Jessica Jung said, her voice a bit hoarse but very clear, each word articulated heavily, passing through the microphones held by the reporters and spreading throughout the corridor.

"Girls Generation," she paused, her gaze slowly sweeping across every face in front of her, and then word by word, decisively, "Not one person can be missing."

There was dead silence in the corridor.

A few seconds later, that CJ reporter was the first to react, and he asked almost impatiently: "Jessica Jung, is this the company's official statement, or your own personal thought? Are you reading from a script?"

This question carried clear malice and was leading.

Jessica Jung looked at him, her eyes very cold, and her mouth even pulled into a very faint, almost mocking curve.

"When I, Jessica Jung, speak," her voice wasn't high, but every word was like an ice bead hitting the ground, "do I need to read from a script?"

After speaking, she stopped looking at anyone and said softly to Tiffany Hwang: "Tiffany, push me back."

Tiffany Hwang, with red eyes, nodded forcefully and turned the wheelchair around.

The moment she turned, fine cold sweat instantly oozed from Jessica Jung's forehead, her fingers gripping the wheelchair armrest stood out due to the force, and her lips were bitten white by herself.

She was enduring severe pain.

Song Tianhao stepped forward half a step immediately, using his body to block most of the lenses and possible pushing angles, shielding the side-rear of the wheelchair, his gaze coldly sweeping over the reporters who still wanted to crowd forward.

"You have all heard." He said, his voice not loud, but carrying a heavy pressure, "Now, please leave."

He looked at the more hospital security guards and Sky Entertainment security personnel rushing over from the end of the corridor, his voice raised slightly: "Security, clear the area. All irrelevant personnel, please leave."

The security personnel acted quickly, starting to politely but firmly guide the reporters away. That CJ reporter still wanted to say something, but was "invited" out by two tall security guards, one on each side, his face flushed.

Song Tianhao ignored the noise behind him, followed the wheelchair back to the ward, and locked the door behind him.

As soon as she entered the door, Jessica Jung's back, which had been straight, instantly slumped. She collapsed in the wheelchair, gasping for air, the cold sweat on her forehead rolling down in beads, and the last bit of color faded from her face.

"Jessica!" Tiffany Hwang was terrified and hurriedly held her down, "How are you? Don't scare me!"

"Doctor!" Kim Taeyeon had already pressed the call button.

The other members also surrounded her, helping Jessica Jung from the wheelchair to the bed in a flurry. Jessica Jung was trembling all over from the pain, her lips bitten to the point of bleeding, but she stubbornly didn't utter a sound of pain.

Song Tianhao watched the nurse and the doctor who rushed over examine her, watched them lift the hem of the hospital gown, revealing the edge of the waist support belt; there, on the white bandage, a little glaring bright red was vaguely seeping out.

"Emotional agitation, slight bleeding, it's not a big problem, but absolute rest is needed, and there cannot be any major emotional fluctuations." The doctor finished the examination, re-bandaged it, and said in a serious tone, "Jessica Jung, I know you are anxious, but recovery cannot be rushed. If you continue like this, next time it won't just be bleeding."

Jessica Jung closed her eyes and nodded gently, her eyelashes wet.

After the doctor and nurse left, the ward quieted down again.

Tiffany Hwang sat by the bed, using a wet towel to gently wipe the cold sweat on Jessica Jung's forehead, her eyes red, and finally couldn't help it, scolding with a crying voice: "Idiot... are you an idiot? If it hurts, why don't you say so? Why do you have to force yourself..."

Jessica Jung didn't speak, just opened her eyes, her gaze sweeping around the ward, passing over one concerned face after another, and finally landing on Song Tianhao by the window.

He stood there, back to the light, his expression unclear.

Jessica Jung looked at him for a long time, then pulled out a weak, pale smile, her voice as light as a sigh: "President..."

Song Tianhao looked at her.

"I..." she gasped for air and continued, "didn't embarrass you, right?"

The ward was extremely quiet.

Everyone looked at her, looking at that forced smile on her pale face, looking at her eyes that were still clear despite being tortured by pain.

Song Tianhao was silent for a few seconds, then walked to the bed and sat on the edge.

He reached out, his palm landing on Jessica Jung's head, and very gently, stroked her soft hair.

"Mm," he said, his voice not loud, but clear, "Very cool."

Jessica Jung was stunned, her eyes widening slightly.

"But next time," Song Tianhao looked at her and added, his tone calm but carrying an unarguable power, "leave this kind of showing off to me."

Jessica Jung looked at his face close at hand, at the bloodshot eyes, at the new blue stubble on his chin, and felt the temperature transmitted from his palm through her hair.

The temperature was very warm, so warm that her eyes felt sore.

Jessica Jung opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but didn't.

Just then, the phone in Song Tianhao's pocket rang.

He withdrew his hand, took out his phone, glanced at the caller ID, it was the assistant.

He answered.

"President," the assistant's voice came from the receiver, speaking quickly, "Found it. The one who leaked the ward number is a temporary worker at the hospital, responsible for the hygiene on this floor. He received 500,000 KRW from a reporter from CJ's 'Entertainment Express' and sold the ward number and information. The person has been controlled, how should we handle it?"

Song Tianhao's expression didn't change, he only asked: "What about the money?"

"It's in his locker, cash, untouched. He admitted it, saying it was his first time, and his family needed money urgently..."

"Hand him over to the police, handle it as industrial espionage and invasion of privacy." Song Tianhao interrupted him, "Contact the hospital director, I want an explanation."

"Yes. Also," the assistant paused, his voice lower, "Jessica Jung's father's flight information has been confirmed, KE904, flying from San Francisco to Incheon, expected to land at 3:20 PM tomorrow."

Song Tianhao looked at Jessica Jung on the hospital bed, who was resting with her eyes closed due to pain and fatigue, and was silent for a few seconds.