130: Chapter 130 How could anyone not love someone like this?

When Song Tianhao pushed open the hospital room door, he was carrying an exquisite fruit basket and a bouquet of elegant lilies.

The afternoon sun slanted through the window, casting warm patches of light onto the polished floor.

On the hospital bed, Jessica Jung was propped up; her complexion was slightly better than it had been in the morning, though still devoid of color.

Tiffany Hwang was sitting on a chair by the bed, whispering something to her, and when they heard the door open, both turned their heads simultaneously.

"President." Tiffany Hwang stood up immediately, a smile appearing on her face, though lingering worry remained in her eyes.

Jessica Jung also looked at him, her lips curving slightly as a greeting, but she didn't speak.

Her gaze rested on Song Tianhao's face, seemingly trying to discern his mood at that moment.

Song Tianhao placed the fruit basket and flowers on the bedside table, pulled over a chair, and sat down at the bedside.

He didn't rush to speak, just looked at Jessica Jung, his gaze calm, but beneath that calmness, something heavy seemed to be surging.

"Is the meeting over?" Jessica Jung spoke first, her voice still a bit hoarse, but clearer than before.

"Yes." Song Tianhao replied, reaching out to naturally check the temperature of her forehead, his movements gentle.

"How are you feeling? Is it still hurting a lot?"

"It's okay. The anesthesia has worn off, so it hurts a little, but I can endure it." Jessica Jung answered briefly, her gaze still lingering on his face.

"President, there is a result, isn't there?"

Her intuition was always very accurate.

Song Tianhao didn't answer immediately, instead glancing at Tiffany Hwang beside her.

Tiffany Hwang understood immediately, walked to the door to confirm it was closed properly, walked back, sat at the foot of the bed, and unconsciously clasped her hands together.

The hospital room was quiet for a few seconds, with only the faint clamor of the city drifting in from outside the window.

The sunlight was bright, but it felt as if something was slowly congealing in the air.

Song Tianhao withdrew his hand, sat up straight, looked into Jessica Jung's eyes, and spoke slowly.

His voice was steady, but every word was incomparably clear: "Jessica, Tiffany. There are preliminary results from the investigation. That accident was not an accident."

Tiffany Hwang gasped sharply, her fingers clenching.

Jessica Jung's pupils contracted slightly, but the expression on her face didn't change much; only her fingertips, resting on the blanket, trembled slightly.

"The backup dancer who bumped into you accepted money." Song Tianhao's voice was very cold, like a frozen lake.

"Three days before the performance, someone gave him 50 million in cash, telling him to 'create a small accident during the encore choreography, preferably making you sprain your ankle so you'd rest for a month or two.' He thought it was just a prank, and didn't expect the consequences to be so severe."

A soft "clatter" sounded.

It was Tiffany Hwang who had accidentally knocked into the water cup nearby; she hurriedly steadied it, her face already pale, her lips trembling slightly as she looked at Jessica Jung.

Tears instantly welled up in her eyes, but she bit her lip tightly to keep them from falling.

Jessica Jung, however, was unexpectedly calm.

She didn't cry, didn't scream, and didn't even show an angry expression.

She just listened quietly, and then, slowly, bit by bit, the corners of her mouth curled up, and she smiled.

The smile was very shallow; on her pale face, instead of warmth, it revealed a chill like ice and snow.

Her eyes were very bright, so bright it was somewhat chilling.

"So," she began, her voice very light, her speaking pace very slow, as if chewing on every word, "I wasn't unlucky, I wasn't careless, and it wasn't bad luck.

I was just... used as a tool to attack the company, the most convenient and easiest target to hit, right?"

"Jessica!" Tiffany Hwang finally couldn't hold it in, crying out with a sob, and reached out to tightly grab Jessica Jung's hand that was resting on the blanket.

She could feel that hand was ice-cold and still trembling slightly.

Song Tianhao looked at the cold smile on Jessica Jung's face, his heart feeling as if it had been viciously twisted by something.

He didn't avoid her gaze; instead, he leaned in closer, propping his elbows on his knees to bring his line of sight level with hers, and looked deeply into her eyes.

"No, Jessica, listen to me." His voice was low and firm, carrying an unquestionable power.

"You are not a tool, nor are you a target. You are a warrior. You are a warrior who took a blade for me, for us at Sky Entertainment."

The smile on Jessica Jung's face stiffened.

"Those people, hiding in the gutters, afraid to come forward, use such base methods to try to strike at me, to strike at our company.

They chose you, not because you are easy to bully, but because you are important, because you stand at the very front, because your radiance is too bright, making them feel dazzled."

Song Tianhao said each word clearly, the flames in his eyes burning fiercely beneath his calm exterior.

"I will settle this account, item by item, ten times, a hundred times over. I promise you, I promise Tiffany, and I promise everyone who supports us."

He paused, his tone becoming more earnest and also stronger: "But Jessica, you must promise me one thing."

Jessica Jung looked at him without speaking, but in those beautiful eyes, something was shattering and then reassembling.

"Do not use someone else's sin to punish yourself." Song Tianhao reached out and gently covered her hand, which was being held by Tiffany Hwang.

His palm was warm, carrying a power that brought stability.

"Your anger, your unwillingness, your grievances—I understand all of these emotions.

But don't let them turn into poison and corrode you.

Save them up, turn them into the motivation for your rehabilitation, turn them into the strength to grit your teeth and stand back up.

Then, use this strength to stand on an even higher stage.

Use your ability, your radiance, to let those rats who only dare to hide in the darkness see that, no matter how hard they try, they can only look up at your back, unable to even touch your heels."

His words were like a hammer, striking Jessica Jung's heart with every syllable.

The cold smile on her face gradually disappeared, replaced by a more complex expression.

Grievance, anger, unwillingness, pain... and a faint, stubborn flame that had been ignited.

She turned her hand over and gripped Song Tianhao's hand tightly.

Her fingers were slender and lacked strength, but her grip was very tight; her nails even dug slightly into Song Tianhao's palm, leaving a few shallow crescent-shaped marks.

She didn't notice, just held on tightly, tightly, as if that were the only piece of driftwood she could grasp at this moment.

"Okay." She finally spoke, her voice still hoarse but carrying a determination like never before, like a taut violin string, ready to snap at the slightest touch.

"President, I promise you."

She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling, the flame in her eyes burning brighter and brighter, almost scorching.

"I want to get better. I want to get better quickly.

I want to do the most painful, most effective rehabilitation.

I want to stand on the stage again, not the stage from before, but a higher, bigger, and brighter place."

Her speaking pace quickened, and her voice rose slightly due to excitement.

"I want to sing, I want to dance, I want everyone to see that Jessica Jung is still here, and she will be better and more dazzling than before.

I want those rats hiding in the darkness, those trash who only dare to play dirty tricks, to watch me shine in a place they can never, ever reach!"

She said the last two words through gritted teeth.

A faint flush appeared on her pale face due to excitement, but those eyes were incredibly bright, and what burned inside was no longer sadness or self-pity, but a raging flame named revenge and proof.

Tiffany Hwang's tears finally fell, but this time they were not tears of sadness; they were tears mixed with heartache, excitement, and an indescribable resonance.

She also nodded vigorously, her voice choked but firm: "I want to too!

President, Jessica, I want to become stronger too!

I will practice even harder, I will sing better, dance better, I want to... I want to become someone who can protect everyone, at least, I won't let people around me get hurt because I can't protect them!"

Song Tianhao looked at the two girls before him, one still severely injured yet with eyes like fire, the other streaming with tears yet making a ringing vow.

The cold fury in his heart that had risen due to conspiracy and betrayal seemed to be warmed and illuminated by these two flames.

He squeezed Jessica Jung's hand back firmly, then let go and stood up.

"Good, this is the Jessica Jung I know, the Tiffany Hwang I know."

A genuine smile, filled with approval and encouragement, appeared on his face.

"But before that, let's fill our stomachs first. You have to eat well before battle, right?"

He walked to the door of the small kitchen attached to the hospital room and opened the refrigerator to take a look.

The high-end hospital room was fully equipped, and the small refrigerator was stocked with some simple ingredients.

He rolled up his shirt sleeves and skillfully took out eggs, tomatoes, and dried noodles.

"President, what are you going to make?" Tiffany Hwang wiped her tears and asked curiously.

"Tomato and egg noodles, the simple version." Song Tianhao said without looking back, starting to wash the tomatoes.

"My cooking skills are average, but I can manage cooking noodles.

Consider it... pre-battle mobilization?"

Jessica Jung watched his back as he rolled up his sleeves and stood at the counter chopping vegetables.

Sunlight shone in from the small kitchen window, plating his tall back with a layer of gold.

The water in the pot began to make a faint sound, and steam rose up.

This image overlapped strangely with the man from just a moment ago—the one with the cold gaze who said he would exact revenge ten, a hundred times over.

Fierce, yet gentle.

Distant, yet within arm's reach.

She suddenly turned her head, looked at Tiffany Hwang, who still had red eyes, and said softly, her voice so low that only Tiffany Hwang could hear: "Tiffany."

"Hmm?" Tiffany Hwang leaned in.

Jessica Jung watched Song Tianhao's back, her lips curving once more. This time, her smile was no longer icy, but carried a complex, resigned softness.

"I think… I'm completely done for."

Tiffany Hwang blinked, not understanding. "Done for? What do you mean? Jessica, are you not feeling well?" She nervously reached for the call button again.

Jessica Jung gently pressed down on her hand and shook her head, her gaze remaining fixed on that back. She whispered, "It's nothing. I just feel… how could anyone not fall for a person like this, at a time like this?"

Her voice was very soft, carrying the weakness of someone newly recovered from an injury, yet it was incredibly clear. The emotions contained within were too complex—gratitude, reliance, attraction, helplessness, and a trace of the calm acceptance that comes when dust settles.

Tiffany Hwang followed her gaze and saw that figure busy in the kitchen, a sight so starkly different from his identity as an entertainment tycoon. She froze for a moment, and then, slowly, her face turned a little red.

She lowered her head, looking at her intertwined fingers, and said very softly, yet with exceptional clarity: "Yeah. Me too."

As the words faded, both girls fell silent for a few seconds, then simultaneously looked up and met each other's eyes. Their gazes collided in the air, and both saw almost identical emotions in the other's eyes.

That irrepressible throb of being deeply attracted and moved, followed by a trace of helpless, wry smiles.

Some things were unspoken, yet clearly understood.

Song Tianhao worked quickly. Before long, two steaming bowls of simple tomato and egg noodles were placed on the small table by the bed. The noodles were cooked to the perfect texture, dotted with golden egg ribbons and red tomatoes, the aroma wafting through the air.

"Conditions are limited, so make do with this," Song Tianhao said, handing them the chopsticks. He picked up a bowl for himself and pulled up a chair to sit beside them.

There were no delicacies or exquisite plating, just the most ordinary homemade noodles. But in the hospital room permeated with the smell of disinfectant, on this afternoon that had just experienced the shock of truth and intense emotional turbulence, this bowl of noodles carried a strange, soul-comforting power.

Jessica Jung picked up her chopsticks. Tiffany Hwang wanted to feed her, but she gently shook her head to refuse.

She lifted the noodles little by little, blew on them, and put them into her mouth. The taste was indeed very home-style, perhaps even a bit salty, but as she ate it hot, her stomach warmed, and even her icy heart seemed to regain a bit of temperature.

The three of them ate the noodles in silence, with only the faint slurping sounds and the clinking of bowls and chopsticks. The sunlight gradually slanted westward, turning a warm orange-red, shining through the window and bathing the entire hospital room in a cozy hue.

The icy anger and resolute vows from just moments ago seemed to have been smoothed over by this bowl of noodles and this patch of sunlight, transforming into a calmer, yet more resilient strength.

After eating, Song Tianhao collected the bowls and chopsticks to wash them in the kitchen. Tiffany Hwang took a towel to wipe Jessica Jung's hands and face.

At this moment, from the direction of the garden downstairs outside the window, the sound of a television program drifted up, likely from someone's open hospital room window. It happened to be an entertainment news broadcast, and the female anchor was speaking in that slightly exaggerated and sensationalist tone:

"...What is the true extent of Girls Generation member Jessica's injuries? Will it affect her entertainment career as rumored online, or even force her to leave the group? Our station will continue to follow this story..."

The voice wasn't loud, but every word drifted clearly into the hospital room. Tiffany Hwang paused, anger immediately appearing on her face. Jessica Jung also stopped wiping her face. She listened for a second, then tugged at the corner of her mouth, revealing an extremely icy, mocking smile.

"President," she suddenly spoke up, her voice not loud, but clearly reaching the kitchen.

Song Tianhao turned off the faucet and walked out, wiping his hands. "What is it?"

Jessica Jung looked at him, her gaze calm, even carrying a hint of nonchalance, but her words were firm and decisive: "Help me post something on SNS using the company's account."

Song Tianhao raised an eyebrow.

Jessica Jung turned her head to look at the sky outside the window, dyed red by the setting sun, and said word by word: "Just post a photo of me doing rehabilitation. We can take it now." She even raised her hand to tidy up her slightly messy hair, even though her face was still pale. "For the caption, write…"

She paused, the mocking curve of her lips deepening, her eyes as sharp as knives: "'I am doing well, thank you all for your concern. Also, to those spreading rumors, get ready to receive a lawyer's letter.'"

Tiffany Hwang's eyes lit up. Song Tianhao looked at her, at the stubborn and sharp expression on her pale face, at the light reigniting in her eyes—the light that belonged to the "Ice Princess" and also to the "Warrior Jessica Jung"—and revealed the first truly relieved smile of the day.

"Okay." Without any hesitation, he took out his phone and adjusted the angle toward Jessica Jung on the hospital bed. In the frame, the girl, though looking haggard from illness, held her back straight, her chin slightly raised, her eyes looking directly into the lens. There was no sadness or weakness, only a cold and inviolable pride.

Song Tianhao pressed the shutter, then looked down to operate his phone. A few seconds later, the official account for Sky Entertainment updated with a new post.

There were no carefully edited photos, no long-winded explanations. Just a profile shot of the girl on the hospital bed, the sunlight outlining her silhouette—pale, yet determined. The caption was exactly the two sentences Jessica Jung had said, concise, powerful, and carrying an overwhelming sense of toughness.

Almost the instant the post went live, the comments section exploded. Fans' concern, passersby's well-wishes, haters' mockery, media's speculation… all flooded in instantly.

But none of this mattered to the three people in the hospital room for the time being.

After posting, Song Tianhao made another call, instructing in a calm voice: "Take the detailed rehabilitation plan for Jessica for the next three months and the preliminary work plan for the next year that I had you organize earlier, and turn them into visual charts. I want the highest quality, clearest version possible. Send them to my email tonight."

He paused, his tone unchanged, yet it carried a chill. "Also, make a summary, keep it anonymous, and send it to Chairman Lee Jae-hyun of CJ Entertainment. Let him also 'care' about our artist's recovery progress and future plans."

Hanging up the phone, he walked back to the bedside and looked at Jessica Jung: "Satisfied?"

Jessica Jung didn't speak, just looked at him, and then gave a very slight, yet very certain nod. The flames in her eyes were burning fiercely, no longer holding a trace of gloom.

At this moment, Tiffany Hwang seemed to remember something, took Jessica Jung's makeup bag out of the bag she had brought, and handed it over. "Jessica, reapply your lipstick…"

Jessica Jung took it, opened it, and pulled out a lipstick. It was a true red, bright, eye-catching, and carried an extremely strong sense of aggression and presence.

Tiffany Hwang remembered that this was the color Jessica Jung had worn on the encore stage when she first won a music show award with Girls Generation. That day, she had smiled so radiantly, jumping and dancing on stage, and that shade of red had been incredibly dazzling under the lights.

Jessica Jung looked into the small makeup mirror, carefully and slowly applying the lipstick to her pale lips. The bright red instantly lit up her entire face. Although she still looked ill, that splash of red was like a ball of fire, like a flag, declaring an unquestionable return and a will to fight.

After applying the lipstick, she pressed her lips together, looking at the familiar yet somewhat unfamiliar reflection in the mirror, her eyes becoming even more determined.

The hospital room quieted down, with only the sunset quietly flowing in.

Just then, Song Tianhao's phone rang. It was a special ringtone, not any song he usually used. He took out his phone and glanced at the screen, which displayed a number with no saved name, but with a very unique suffix.

He made a "wait a moment" gesture to Jessica Jung and Tiffany Hwang, then stood up and walked to the balcony outside the hospital room, closing the glass door.

The call connected, and a steady, middle-aged male voice came from the other end, carrying a just-right amount of politeness and distance: "President Song, sorry to bother you. Regarding that matter you mentioned earlier, after a detailed evaluation on our side, we are very interested in discussing it further. Would tomorrow at 3:00 PM at the 'Yunjing' Club in Cheongdam-dong be convenient for a detailed discussion?"

It was the Director Lee in charge of the entertainment business at S Group. The reply to Song Tianhao's meeting request had arrived, and it came even faster than expected.

Song Tianhao cast his gaze into the distance. The city lights of Seoul were just beginning to twinkle, and a hint of dark red still lingered on the horizon. A faint, cold arc curled at the corner of his mouth.

"Very well, Director Lee. Tomorrow at 3:00 PM, 'Yunjing' Club. See you there."

Hanging up the phone, he held it and stood in the evening breeze on the balcony for a moment. Then, he turned around and looked into the hospital room through the clean glass door.

Under the warm lights, Jessica Jung was whispering something to Tiffany Hwang. Her lips, painted with bright lipstick, were moving, and her face wore a long-lost, vivid expression. Tiffany Hwang was listening very intently, nodding from time to time, her eyes sparkling.

The war was about to begin, and it would be a tough battle. But in this moment, looking at that bright splash of color in the hospital room and those sparkling eyes, a certain corner of Song Tianhao's heart, outside of that icy battlefield, quietly softened.

He pushed open the door and stepped back into that warm light.