128: Chapter 128 That's your talent, it's something many people possess.

At six in the morning, the sky over Seoul was the color of a fish belly, the heavy rain from last night having washed the streets clean and bright, with the air permeated by the moist scent of earth and vegetation.

The small alley behind the hospital began to wake up; several breakfast stalls had already set up, their steamers emitting white steam that curled upward into the cool air.

Song Tianhao stood in front of a soy milk stall, watching the auntie running the stall nimbly pour scalding hot soy milk into disposable plastic cups.

The stall was very simple, just a modified tricycle with a few insulated buckets on it, and some small tables and plastic stools set up nearby.

But the aroma of the soy milk was rich, mixing with the charred fragrance of fried dough from the neighboring youtiao stall, creating a simple and grounded atmosphere of everyday city life.

He ordered three cups of soy milk and bought three servings of kimbap and egg rolls, carrying them in a plastic bag.

Just as he finished paying and turned around, he saw a slender figure at the entrance of the alley, wrapped in a beige long-knit cardigan, walking toward him—it was Tiffany Hwang.

She had clearly come out in a hurry; she was still wearing the casual clothes from last night, with the cardigan thrown on over them, and her long golden hair was draped somewhat messily over her shoulders.

She was bare-faced, with the lazy traces of just waking up still on her face, but her eyes were bright as she looked his way.

The morning light outlined her slender silhouette, gilding her with a soft golden edge.

She trotted over a few steps, stopped in front of Song Tianhao, panting slightly, and looked up at him.

Her eyes were a little swollen—perhaps she hadn't slept well, or perhaps... but her gaze was very clear, devoid of the complex scrutiny from the hospital room last night, and instead carried a calm resolve.

"CEO," she spoke, her voice still slightly raspy from just waking up.

Song Tianhao handed her one of the cups of soy milk in his hand: "It's hot."

Tiffany Hwang was stunned for a moment before taking the plastic cup that was still hot to the touch, holding it in her palms.

The warm sensation transmitted through the cup wall, dispelling the morning chill.

She lowered her head to look at the swirling white steam at the brim of the cup, was silent for a few seconds, then looked up and revealed a sincere smile: "Thank you."

Song Tianhao pointed to an empty small table nearby: "Sit for a while?"

The two sat down on the small plastic stools.

The stools were very low, and Song Tianhao, being tall with long legs, felt a bit cramped sitting down, but he adjusted his posture naturally.

Tiffany Hwang followed his example, holding the soy milk and taking small sips.

The piping hot, slightly sweet liquid slid down her throat, the warmth spreading all the way to her stomach, seemingly dispelling the last bit of hesitation in her heart.

Sporadic customers gradually appeared near the breakfast stall, mostly office workers up early for work or medical staff from the hospital, all in a hurry, buying and leaving immediately.

Few people noticed the attractive man and woman in the corner, or if they did, they just assumed they were the family of some patient in the hospital.

"CEO," Tiffany Hwang took another sip of soy milk, her eyes watching the liquid sloshing in the cup, her voice soft, "Last night... thank you."

Song Tianhao turned his head to look at her.

"I mean, thank you for guiding Jessica." Tiffany Hwang added, her tone serious, "After she got injured, although she kept holding on and not saying anything, I knew she was under a lot of pressure and couldn't sleep well at night.

Last night... was the most peaceful sleep I've seen her have in these past few days."

She paused, the corners of her mouth curving, but there was something else in that smile.

"I heard everything you said to her. Thank you, CEO Oppa."

From "CEO" to "CEO Oppa," the shift in address was very natural, carrying both closeness and gratitude.

"It's only right." Song Tianhao's reply was simple.

He tore open the bag containing the kimbap and pushed a portion in front of Tiffany Hwang.

"She is an artist in my company, and also... a younger sister who needs taking care of."

"A younger sister, huh..." Tiffany Hwang repeated in a low voice, picking up a piece of kimbap but not eating it immediately, just unconsciously rubbing the plastic wrap with her fingertips.

The morning light spilled onto her lowered eyelashes, casting a small shadow.

Silence permeated between the two, but it wasn't awkward; there were only the subtle sounds from the soy milk stall and the faint noise of traffic from the distant streets.

After a long while, Tiffany Hwang spoke again, her voice even softer than before, as if afraid to disturb the quiet of the morning, and also as if talking to herself:

"I actually... envy Jessica."

Song Tianhao stopped what he was doing and looked at her.

Tiffany Hwang still kept her head down, looking at the piece of kimbap in her hand that she had squeezed slightly out of shape, her tone carrying a rare confusion and self-deprecation that didn't fit her usual bright image:

"She always knows what she wants, her goals are clear, and she dares to fight and strive.

Even if she falls, gets hurt, bleeds, and cries, when she gets back up, she is still that proud, shining Jessica Jung.

She seems to always know where the path is and how to walk it."

She raised her eyes, looking toward the silhouette of the hospital building in the distance; the morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the glass curtain wall of the building reflected a faint light.

"But what about me..." She smiled lightly, a touch of bitterness in that smile, "I seem to always be muddled.

Before debut, and after debut too.

Everyone says I love to smile, says I'm always full of energy, says 'Tiffany's smile is a treasure'...

But sometimes I wonder, besides smiling, besides saying 'Fighting' full of energy in front of the camera, what else can I do?"

She turned her head to look at Song Tianhao.

Those eyes, which always curved into crescents and were filled with smiles, were now clear to the bottom, reflecting his figure, as well as the vulnerability she never easily showed others:

"Singing? Taeyeon and Jessica are the main vocalists; I can't compare to them.

Dancing? Hyoyeon, Yuri, Sooyoung, and Yoona all dance better than I do.

Variety sense? It always seems lukewarm...

Sometimes standing on stage, looking at the fans cheering for us below, I suddenly get very scared.

I'm afraid that what they like is just 'Girls Generation's Tiffany,' just that Tiffany who is always smiling.

If... if I stop smiling, if I don't perform well, will they still like me?

What exactly is the value of my existence?"

She said a lot in one breath, speaking not quickly, but every word was clear, carrying the confusion and lack of confidence that had been buried deep in her heart for a long time.

This was not the radiant Tiffany Hwang on stage, nor was it the Tiffany who always infected her teammates with laughter.

This was just an ordinary twenty-three-year-old girl, standing in front of a morning soy milk stall, doubting herself.

Song Tianhao listened quietly without interrupting, his face showing no surprise or pity, just watching her calmly with a focused gaze, as if listening to something very important.

After she finished speaking, the air was quiet for a few more seconds.

Only the voice of the stall auntie calling out "Fresh soy milk" could be heard faintly from over there.

Then, Song Tianhao spoke. His voice was not loud, but in the cool morning air, it sounded exceptionally clear and exceptionally powerful:

"This is your strength, Tiffany."

Tiffany Hwang was stunned, her fingers holding the soy milk cup tightening slightly.

"Your smile, your vitality, that spirit of being able to say 'Fighting' no matter what happens," Song Tianhao looked at her, his gaze sincere, without the slightest evasion or perfunctoriness, "That isn't 'just something you can do,' it is your talent—a talent that many people beg for but cannot get."

"Do you think this is easy?" He leaned forward slightly, closing the distance a little, his tone serious.

"To smile when exhausted to the extreme, to tell others to cheer up when the pressure is so great you can't sleep, to be able to use your smile to light up others when you yourself are clearly very scared and lost.

Do you think this is simple?"

Tiffany Hwang's lips moved, but no sound came out; she just stared at him blankly.

"It isn't, Tiffany." Song Tianhao shook his head, his voice slowing down a bit, carrying a nearly certain gentleness.

"It is very difficult. It is precisely because it is difficult that it is precious.

Your smile is the light for many people.

It is the light that makes Jessica feel 'I can hold on a bit longer' when she sees your smiling face while practicing to the point of collapse;

it is also the light that makes Taeyeon feel 'I am not alone' when she hears you say 'Fighting' at her most stressful moments;

it is the light from which the members of Girls Generation can draw strength when encountering difficulties."

He paused, his gaze softening: "And that includes me."

Tiffany Hwang's pupils dilated slightly, her fingers holding the soy milk cup turning white from the force.

"When I first took over this company, overwhelmed and feeling that the road ahead was full of confusion," Song Tianhao continued, his tone flat, as if stating a trivial matter, "seeing you all sweating in the practice room, seeing you always smiling so hard in front of the camera and in private, saying 'cheer up,' I would also feel that, it seems... it wasn't that difficult anymore."

"Your existence itself is a kind of strength. So, there is no need to envy anyone."

He looked at her, saying clearly and firmly, word by word:

"You don't need to become Jessica Jung, and you don't need to become Kim Taeyeon, or anyone else.

Being Tiffany Hwang is just fine.

The Tiffany Hwang who can smile, who can encourage people, and who can make people feel warm and hopeful—that is just fine.

This is your unique value, which no one can replace."

The voice fell silent.

The morning mist seemed to be blown away by the wind at this moment; more sunlight passed through the gaps above the alley, spilling down and landing just right on Tiffany Hwang's face.

She was enveloped in the soft morning light, the edges of her golden hair tinged with a faint halo.

She stared blankly at Song Tianhao, her eyes unblinking, as if she couldn't believe what she had heard.

Then, those eye sockets, always filled with smiles, rapidly turned red at a speed visible to the naked eye, accumulating a thin layer of moisture.

But she didn't cry; instead, she sniffled hard, forcing that dampness back.

Then, the corners of her mouth curled up, little by little, and finally bloomed into an incomparably brilliant smile, even more dazzling than the current sunlight.

That smile no longer had confusion or self-deprecation, only the pure brightness and emotion of being understood, being seen, and being thoroughly affirmed, almost overflowing.

"CEO," she spoke, her voice carrying a noticeable nasal tone, but her tone was upbeat, carrying a bit of mock blame and endless softness, "You're playing foul."

Her eyes looked at him sparklingly, reflecting his figure inside, and also reflecting the clear sky:

"Words like this... will make people misunderstand."

Song Tianhao also smiled.

The smile was faint, but there was genuine warmth in his eyes.

He leaned back, resting against the back of the small plastic stool again, his posture relaxed.

Watching Tiffany Hwang's smiling face shining in the morning light, he replied naturally:

"Then let them misunderstand."

His tone was so matter-of-fact, so calm, that it instead caused Tiffany Hwang to be stunned for a moment, and then her cheeks uncontrollably flushed slightly.

She hurriedly lowered her head and took another big sip of soy milk, trying to hide that momentary loss of heart rhythm.

Song Tianhao did not continue this topic.

He checked the time, his tone returning to his usual composure, as if that soul-touching conversation just now was just an ordinary morning chat:

"However, there is one thing that is true."

Tiffany Hwang raised her head, her face still flushed, but there was a bit more seriousness and curiosity in her eyes.

"Wait until Jessica is a bit better and has recovered enough," Song Tianhao said, looking at her. His tone was calm, yet every word carried weight. "I plan to launch a new project. It's a rather special music project, and it might require trying out concepts different from the usual style of Girls Generation.

I need a main vocalist, a main vocalist who can digest various musical colors, has a unique vocal charm, and can also adapt to different conceptual expressions."

He paused, his gaze landing on Tiffany Hwang's face, carrying a clear sense of inquiry and expectation:

"I think you are very suitable. Do you want to try?"

Tiffany Hwang was completely stunned.

An individual resource offer.

It wasn't a group activity, nor was it a schedule for Girls Generation; it was for her alone—a brand-new music project that sounded very challenging.

What did this mean? It meant recognition; it meant that the CEO saw her individual value as "Tiffany Hwang," not just the label of "Girls Generation Tiffany." It also meant an opportunity, an opportunity to break out of a fixed image and explore more possibilities.

But at the same time, it also meant pressure, unknown challenges, and... the subtle changes that might be caused within the team.

Various emotions surged into her heart, leaving her unsure of how to react for a moment. Surprise, joy, disbelief, and a trace of vague uneasiness.

At this moment, the auntie running the stall, who was cleaning up the table nearby, curiously sized them up. She probably felt that this young man and woman sitting in front of the soy milk stall in the early morning had an unusual atmosphere, and couldn't help but mutter in a low voice. The voice wasn't loud, but it just happened to drift over:

"Aigoo, young people these days, talking about love so early... and speaking in such a complicated way, what value or no value..."

The auntie shook her head and walked away carrying the bowls and chopsticks.

Song Tianhao and Tiffany Hwang both heard it. The two looked at each other, and then, almost simultaneously, couldn't help but laugh. The slightly heavy and touching atmosphere from just now was instantly dispelled by the auntie's simple remark, replaced by a tacit, relaxed joy.

"It seems the auntie thinks I'm using sweet talk to deceive a young girl." Song Tianhao raised an eyebrow, rarely cracking a joke.

Tiffany Hwang laughed even more happily, her eyes curving into beautiful crescents again; the bit of uneasiness from just before seemed to have been carried away by the laughter. She nodded vigorously and said in a tone with a hint of small pride: "CEO Oppa's words just now really sounded like lines from an idol drama!"

After laughing, the atmosphere eased up a lot.

Song Tianhao took out his wallet, pulled out a few more banknotes, walked to the stall, and handed them to the busy auntie.

"Auntie, keep these for now." He pointed to Tiffany Hwang, "In the future, when this young lady comes here for breakfast, deduct it from this. If it's not enough, I'll replenish it."

The auntie looked at him in surprise, then looked at Tiffany Hwang, who was sitting not far away and as pretty as a doll. She revealed an "I understand, I understand" realization smile and agreed repeatedly: "Aiyo, young man, you're so thoughtful! Don't worry, I recognize this young lady. From now on, whenever she comes, I'll just put it on the tab!"

Tiffany Hwang didn't expect him to do this; her face flushed again, but her heart felt warm, as if it had been ironed by that cup of hot soy milk.

Song Tianhao walked back and picked up the bag containing the breakfast: "Let's go, Jessica should be awake."

The two walked back side by side. The early morning streets gradually became lively, and the flow of people going to work and school began to increase. The sunlight completely dispelled the morning mist, shining warmly on their bodies.

"CEO Oppa," Tiffany Hwang, walking half a step away from his side, suddenly spoke softly, "that project..."

"No rush." Song Tianhao interrupted her, his tone peaceful, "You should focus on accompanying Jessica first, helping her with rehabilitation, and adjusting your own state. The project is still in the preliminary conception stage; specific details, styles, and collaboration partners all need time to prepare. When you are ready, we can talk in detail at any time."

His words both gave her clear expectations and opportunities, and relieved the pressure of having to face a choice immediately, while also considerately taking into account her sense of responsibility towards her teammates. The lingering uneasiness in Tiffany Hwang's heart gradually dissipated with these words, replaced by a sense of security from being treated with care.

"Mm!" She nodded vigorously, and her face bloomed again with that iconic, bright, and radiant smile, "I know, CEO Oppa! I will prepare well, and I will also take good care of Jessica!"

Walking to the back door of the hospital, Song Tianhao's phone vibrated. He took it out and glanced at it; it was a message from Seohyun, very brief, but the content made his eyes slightly narrow:

"CEO Oppa, there is preliminary progress on the matter you asked me to investigate. One week before the accident, the backup dancer's account received a large transfer from an overseas anonymous account. After multiple transfers and preliminary tracing, one of the related parties of the final fund flow is associated with a peripheral subsidiary of CJ Entertainment. A detailed report has been sent to your email. In addition, the police seem to have received some kind of instruction, and there are signs that the investigation is slowing down. — Seohyun"

Song Tianhao's expression didn't change. His fingers tapped quickly on the screen, and he replied: "Received. Continue to monitor, stay safe. I will read the report later."

He put away his phone and walked into the hospital building with Tiffany Hwang, his expression as usual.

In the elevator, Tiffany Hwang secretly took out her phone, opened the front camera, and while Song Tianhao was looking at the elevator floor numbers, she quickly and unobtrusively pressed the shutter.

In the photo, there was a blurry reflection of the two standing side by side in the elevator mirror. Morning light leaked in from the gap in the elevator door, dancing on her golden hair tips. The photo was a bit blurry, but the atmosphere unique to early morning—quiet yet with a hint of palpitation—was captured very well.

She looked at the photo, the corners of her mouth curling up unconsciously, and then she quickly locked the screen, holding the phone tightly in her palm, as if hiding a small, sweet secret.

When they returned to the ward, Jessica Jung was already awake, half-leaning against the head of the bed, while a nurse helped her take her temperature. Seeing the two come in together, her beautiful eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly. Her gaze shifted back and forth between Song Tianhao and Tiffany Hwang, and no emotion could be heard in her tone: "You went out together?"

Tiffany Hwang's heart "thumped." A trace of imperceptible panic flashed across her face instantly, and her hand subconsciously tightened on the corner of her cardigan. The conversation at the soy milk stall in the morning and that inexplicable atmosphere were still lingering in her mind. Being asked by Jessica like this at this moment actually made her feel a bit guilty, as if she had done something to wrong her friend.

"Mm." Song Tianhao, however, remained composed, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. He raised the plastic bag full of breakfast in his hand, his tone natural: "Tiffany was afraid that what I bought wouldn't suit your taste, so she followed along to check. Look, it's all stuff you love to eat. Pumpkin porridge, and low-salt egg rolls."

As he spoke, he walked to the bedside table, taking the food out of the bag one by one and setting it out, his movements skillful. The still-warm bowl of pumpkin porridge had its lid carefully opened, the spoon set in place, and the egg rolls were meticulously cut into bite-sized pieces.

Jessica Jung looked at the breakfast that was indeed very much to her liking, then looked up at Tiffany Hwang, who was standing at the door with ear tips that seemed slightly red. She was silent for two seconds and didn't ask further. She took the porridge bowl handed over by Song Tianhao, lowered her head, and said in a low voice: "Thank you."

The tone was very flat, but Tiffany Hwang, who was familiar with her, still heard a trace of imperceptible softening.

She quietly breathed a sigh of relief, walked to the companion bed on the other side, and pretended to tidy up her messy bedding, but her heartbeat was still a bit fast.

Song Tianhao stayed in the ward for a while, watched Jessica Jung eat some things, and asked the nurse about her condition this morning. The nurse said the recovery was going well, the pain was lessening, and the itching was a normal phenomenon, indicating that the tissue was healing. Song Tianhao nodded, instructed Jessica Jung a few more times to rest well, and then said he had things to do at the company and had to leave first.

"I'll come again in the evening," he said.

Jessica Jung nodded, didn't say anything, and just drank the porridge in small sips.

Tiffany Hwang saw him to the door of the ward.

"Tiffany," Song Tianhao stopped at the door, turned back to look at her, his voice lowered a bit, "Accompany her well. And... take care of yourself."

His gaze lingered on her face for a moment; those eyes that always carried a smile were now clearly reflected in his pupils. Then, he smiled and turned to leave.

Tiffany Hwang stood at the door, watching his tall and straight back disappear around the corner of the corridor. The warmth of the soy milk cup seemed to still remain in her palm, along with the secret palpitation brought by the blurry photo in her phone.

She closed the door and walked back to the ward.

Jessica Jung had finished the porridge and was holding a water cup, drinking in small sips. Sunlight shone through the window onto her pale face, gilding her silhouette with a soft golden edge. The ward was very quiet, with only the slight ticking of the instruments.

Tiffany Hwang walked to the window, looking at the city outside that was starting to get busy. Her heart was a bit chaotic, yet strangely calm.

"Tiffany." Jessica Jung suddenly spoke, her voice very light.

"Hm?" Tiffany Hwang turned around.

Jessica Jung didn't look at her, still gazing at some empty point outside the window, sunlight dancing on her long eyelashes. Her voice was very calm, so calm that no emotion could be heard: "The CEO... he is a good person, right?"

Tiffany Hwang nodded vigorously without hesitation, a tremendously bright and convinced smile blooming on her face: "Mm! He is the best, best person in the world!" Her tone was firm, carrying unquestionable adoration and... some softer emotions.

Jessica Jung finally turned her head and looked at her. When she saw the undisguised, bright, and somewhat dazzling smile on Tiffany Hwang's face, she herself was slightly stunned. Immediately, she also smiled. That smile was very shallow, very faint, landing on her pale face, yet it had a clear and transparent beauty like ice and snow melting for the first time. In the smile, there was relief, realization, and perhaps, a trace of extremely complex emotions that even she herself had not yet fully sorted out.

She said softly, her voice as low as a sigh, and also like a fact she had finally admitted to herself: "Yes. So, being a bit greedy for him, is also... very normal, right?"

As her voice fell, she lowered her head again, looking at her slender fingers holding the water cup, and said no more. The sunlight outside the window became even stronger, shining brightly into the ward, lengthening the shadows of the two girls and casting them onto the smooth floor, quiet and silent.

Tiffany Hwang stood by the window, the smile on her face slowly fading. She looked at her friend's calm profile, remembered the conversation at the soy milk stall in the early morning, remembered that man's focused and sincere gaze, and remembered the tone when he said "Being Tiffany Hwang is already very good." Somewhere in her heart, it trembled, gently, gently. She gripped the phone in her pocket tightly; the screen was cold, but the warmth that had just risen in her heart lingered for a long time.