133: Chapter 133 With him around, the sky won't fall down.

The therapist from the professional rehabilitation center was named Jiang; she was a woman in her early forties with a gentle temperament but high standards. She came three times a week, two hours each time.

On her first visit, she was surprised to see the fully equipped home rehab room, especially the slope walking trainer identical to those used by NBA stars. She raised her eyebrows in surprise but didn't ask any questions, simply saying to Jessica, "Jessica, from today on, it's going to be very difficult. Can you persist?"

Jessica was wearing a sports tank top and shorts, the cast on her right arm conspicuous under the lights. She stood straight, her left hand gently clenched into a fist at her side, her voice clear: "I can."

Therapist Jiang nodded and began to assess her current physical condition. Flexibility, muscle strength, balance, core stability... After a series of tests, beads of sweat had already formed on Jessica's forehead.

Some movements seemed clumsy and strenuous due to the arm immobilization and long periods of lying down, but she gritted her teeth and completed them without a sound.

"Your physical foundation is better than I imagined," Therapist Jiang said while recording the data, her tone steady. "But there is still a long way to go before you can return to stage performances. Your core and lower limb strength, in particular, need to be strengthened."

"Dance requires high levels of balance and explosive power. Because of the fracture and long-term immobilization, you have muscle atrophy and decreased coordination; you must start from scratch."

"I understand." Jessica wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Teacher, please follow the strictest standards. How soon can I recover?"

Therapist Jiang looked at her and saw a nearly stubborn persistence in those beautiful eyes. She was silent for a few seconds before saying, "If you can fully cooperate, not slack off, not reduce the training volume due to pain, and ensure proper nutrition and rest... in three months, you can recover to a basic stage level."

"But to reach your pre-injury state, it might take half a year or even longer. And," she paused, her tone serious, "the process will be very painful. It's not just ordinary hard work; it's true physical pain and a test of your limits. Are you sure?"

Jessica hardly hesitated: "I am sure."

From that day on, the rehab room in the Cheongdam-dong penthouse became Jessica's second battlefield.

Two hours every morning, two hours every afternoon, rain or shine.

The content was dull and painful: starting from the most basic ankle pumps and static quadriceps contractions, to passive joint range-of-motion exercises with equipment, then to active resistance training, balance training, gait correction... Every movement required maintaining precision and control amidst pain.

Sweat quickly soaked her sportswear. Her hair stuck to her cheeks and neck, swaying with the rise and fall of her body. She was often in so much pain that her lips turned pale and her jawline was tight, but apart from the occasional muffled groan she couldn't suppress, she made almost no sound.

Tiffany Hwang accompanied her the whole time, handing her towels and water, and holding her hand when the pain was severe, saying words of encouragement like, "Jessica, fighting!"

"Hang in there a little longer, it's almost over!"

Sometimes Tiffany Hwang would change into sportswear herself and do some simple core training on the side, claiming to be a "sparring partner," but in reality, it was more to distract Jessica from the pain.

Krystal took charge of logistics and entertainment.

She researched nutritional recipes and communicated her sister's dietary preferences to the housekeeper; when Jessica was resting, she would tell funny stories from school with exaggerated imitations and funny expressions, or play relaxing music; she would also secretly film her sister's hard work and make it into short videos, saying, "When Unnie has fully recovered, I'll show you your dark history."

Song Tianhao would come every day or two. Sometimes it was in the evening, sometimes at noon.

He usually came very casually, sometimes carrying a bag of imported fruit, sometimes several boxes of nutritional supplements said to help with bone recovery, and once he even had someone deliver the latest model of balance trainer with virtual reality functions.

When he came, he usually wouldn't enter the rehab room immediately, but would sit in the living room for a while, working on his tablet, or just quietly watching through the glass door.

The door to the rehab room was translucent frosted glass; you couldn't see the details, but you could see the shadows moving inside and hear the faint sounds of equipment and occasional instructions.

His presence was very strong. Even if he didn't speak, just sitting there, Tiffany Hwang and Krystal would subconsciously soften their movements, and even their breathing seemed a bit more disciplined.

But strangely, this "discipline" didn't make people feel oppressed; instead, it brought a strange sense of peace, as if with him there, the sky wouldn't fall.

When Jessica was training inside, she could occasionally see that blurry but upright figure in the living room through the glass door. She knew he was outside. Sometimes when she was exhausted to the limit and the pain made her vision go black, that quiet figure became a vague fulcrum for her to persist.

The training content this afternoon was single-leg balance training. This was to lay the foundation for movements like single-leg support and rotation in dance, and it required extremely high core stability and ankle strength.

Jessica held onto the handrail of the balance training platform, trying to lift her left leg and stand only on her right leg. Her right ankle was still weak, and her calf muscles lacked strength due to the previous immobilization, causing her body to sway uncontrollably.

Therapist Jiang instructed from the side: "Tighten your core, fix your eyes on that point in front, relax your shoulders..."

She tried hard to follow, but her body still tilted to one side against her will. She tried to adjust, but her center of gravity shifted, and she lost her balance, stumbling and falling to the side.

"Careful!" Tiffany Hwang exclaimed.

Jessica reacted quickly, subconsciously supporting the ground with her left hand, cushioning the fall, but she still fell sideways onto the thick training mat. Although it didn't hurt, that sense of powerlessness and frustration flooded her like a tide.

This was already the third fall this afternoon.

The previous two times, she had climbed up without a word and continued to try. But this time, the accumulated fatigue, pain, and continuous failure brought her emotions to a critical point. She didn't climb up immediately, but instead, with her still-functioning left hand, she slammed the mat beneath her hard.

With a muffled "thud."

The rehab room went silent instantly. Only her heavy breathing could be heard.

Tiffany Hwang hurried over, crouching down to help her up: "Jessica, are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"

Jessica kept her head down, sweat dripping from her soaked hair, leaving dark traces on the gray mat. She didn't speak, her shoulders just heaving slightly.

Just then, the glass door was pushed open.

Song Tianhao walked in. He had been in the living room just now, seemingly looking at something on his tablet. He was wearing a simple dark gray shirt, with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his smooth-lined forearms.

He didn't immediately go to help Jessica, but walked in front of her, and then, squatted down.

This action stunned both Tiffany Hwang and Therapist Jiang. In their view, or rather, in the perception of most people in South Korea, people at the level of CEO or Representative wouldn't squat down like this to have a conversation with an artist under their agency.

Especially since Song Tianhao had an indescribable aura that made him carry a sense of aloofness even when he wasn't speaking.

But he was squatting there now, his line of sight perfectly level with Jessica, who was sitting on the mat.

"Get up." He looked at Jessica, his voice not loud, and without any particular emotion, calm as if stating a fact.

Jessica didn't move, just panting, sweat dripping down her nose and jaw, drop by drop.

"Jessica," Song Tianhao called her full name again, his tone still steady, but with a hint of indisputable authority, "get up."

Jessica finally slowly raised her head. Her face was flushed from exercise and pain, her bangs sticking wetly to her skin, her eyes filled with some physiological moisture, but more so with a stubbornness ignited by frustration. She looked at Song Tianhao, her eyes full of unwillingness.

Song Tianhao said nothing to comfort her, nor did he reach out to help her up, just extended his hand, palm open, and held it out in front of her.

"Again."

Two simple words.

Jessica looked at that clean, powerful hand with prominent knuckles. She panted, sweat flowing into her eyes, causing a stinging sensation. She blinked, then extended her own wet, slightly trembling left hand and grabbed Song Tianhao's hand tightly.

His hand was steady, dry, and warm. The moment he held her hand, a calm strength came through, easily pulling her up from the mat.

Jessica used the leverage to stand up, her body still swaying. Song Tianhao didn't let go immediately; his other hand also supported her arm, helping her stabilize her center of gravity, and only then did he slowly release her.

He didn't let her sit down, nor did he let her rest, but just let her stand there, face to face with him.

"Look at me." Song Tianhao said.

Jessica raised her eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes were very black, very deep, with no waves in them, like a calm lake, reflecting her current disheveled yet stubborn appearance.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

Jessica pursed her lips, sweat sliding past the corners of her mouth, bringing a salty taste. She looked into his eyes, not dodging, and answered hoarsely: "...Yes."

"Are you tired?"

"...Yes."

"Then are you still training tomorrow?"

When this question was asked, Tiffany Hwang and Therapist Jiang held their breath. Krystal, who didn't know when she had appeared at the door, was also looking at her sister with concern.

Jessica's eyes instantly turned redder, not because of grievance, but because of a flame ignited by being pushed to the edge. Her chest heaved, staring at Song Tianhao, she squeezed out a word from between her teeth:

"Train!"

The voice wasn't loud, but it was resolute, carrying a determination to burn the boats.

Song Tianhao looked at her for about two seconds.

Then, the expressionless lines of his face seemed to soften ever so slightly.

He raised his hand, not to pat her shoulder, but to gently pat the top of Jessica Jung's sweat-dampened head.

The movement was quick, touching and pulling away instantly, so natural that it was as if he were merely brushing away a non-existent fallen leaf.

"That's right," he said, his tone holding no hint of praise; it sounded more like he was stating a fact.

"Go take a shower and change your clothes. We're having Korean beef tonight, my treat."

After saying this, he stopped looking at her and turned to walk out of the rehabilitation room.

It was as if that brief conversation and the barely-there pat on the head had never happened.

Jessica Jung remained standing in place, holding her previous posture.

The spot on her head that had been touched seemed to still retain a faint trace of someone else's warmth.

It was strange; the sharp pain and exhaustion that had filled her body just moments ago seemed to have been dissipated by that light pat.

The burning frustration and unwillingness in her heart also strangely subsided, transforming into something deeper and more resolute.

She took a deep breath, wiped her face hard with a towel, and said to Therapist Jiang, "Teacher, let's continue."

Therapist Jiang looked at her with some surprise, then glanced at the back of the man sitting back on the sofa outside the glass door, picking up his tablet again.

She nodded, "Okay, let's start from the broken-down movements, slow down the speed, and find the feeling first."

Tiffany Hwang let out a sigh of relief and quietly gave Krystal Jung an "OK" gesture outside the door.

Song Tianhao sat on the living room sofa.

The tablet screen was lit, but it didn't display emails or documents; instead, it showed a complex stock price chart and some fragmented text information, with titles faintly visible such as "CJ Entertainment," "Personnel Changes," and "Internal Rumors."

His fingers slid slowly across the screen, his gaze calm.

The sounds of training from the rehabilitation room drifted over, mixed with Therapist Jiang's clear instructions and Jessica Jung's occasional gasps.

He listened for a moment, tapped his finger on the tablet, and closed the page.

Dinner was prepared by the housekeeper and was very sumptuous.

The Korean beef was a top-tier cut, pan-fried to perfection on the iron plate, the aroma of the fat filling the dining room.

There were also various side dishes, a vegetable salad, soybean paste stew, and rice.

Krystal Jung cheered excitedly, and Tiffany Hwang's eyes lit up.

Jessica Jung had showered and changed into comfortable loungewear, her wet hair wrapped in a towel, her face flushed from exercise, as she sat quietly at the dining table.

"Eat more." Song Tianhao used serving chopsticks to place the best-grilled piece of beef tenderloin into Jessica Jung's bowl, then naturally placed a piece each for Krystal Jung and Tiffany Hwang, who were watching eagerly.

"You too; you're all still growing and need nutrition."

Krystal Jung immediately thanked him sweetly, "Thank you, CEO Oppa!"

She had already naturally switched to calling him "CEO Oppa."

Tiffany Hwang also thanked him with a smile, sneaking a glance at the calm-looking Jessica Jung.

Jessica Jung looked at the greasy, fragrant piece of beef in her bowl, then looked up at Song Tianhao, who was leisurely drinking his soup across from her.

She picked up her chopsticks and said softly, "Thank you, President."

"Mm," Song Tianhao replied without saying more.

The atmosphere was harmonious.

Krystal Jung chattered about recent funny events at school, about behind-the-scenes footage from their f(x) group show, and how the members were envious when they heard she was coming to keep her sister company while she recovered.

Tiffany Hwang was responsible for playing along and making jokes; the two played off each other, making the atmosphere at the dining table very lively.

Jessica Jung didn't say much, but she listened intently, a faint smile on her lips.

Her appetite seemed much better than the past few days, and she ate the food in her bowl slowly.

Song Tianhao didn't talk much either, but he would occasionally ask Krystal Jung about her studies or give a simple evaluation of a variety show idea mentioned by Tiffany Hwang.

He wasn't cold, nor was he overly enthusiastic, fitting perfectly into this home-style dinner.

Just as dinner was halfway through, the phone Song Tianhao had placed beside him vibrated.

The screen lit up, showing an incoming call from Park So-yeon.

Song Tianhao glanced at it, picked up the phone, said "You guys keep eating" to the three of them, and then stood up and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room to answer the call.

His voice was low, and the specific content couldn't be heard from the dining room; one could only see his upright back and occasional nodding movements.

Krystal Jung lowered her voice, leaned toward Jessica Jung, and winked, "It must be Soyeon unnie! CEO Oppa didn't even avoid us when answering the phone."

Tiffany Hwang also whispered, "Soyeon unnie seems really busy lately; she told me she was in a meeting when she called me yesterday."

Jessica Jung didn't speak, just slowly chewed the food in her mouth, her gaze drifting involuntarily toward the figure by the window.

She could feel that this call seemed different.

Although Song Tianhao's tone sounded steady as always, she noticed the subtle movement of his body turning slightly toward the window when he answered the call—it was an unconscious posture of shutting out distractions.

A few minutes later, Song Tianhao hung up and walked back to the dining table.

His expression was as usual; he picked up a napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth and sat back down.

"President, is... is there something wrong at the company?" Tiffany Hwang asked carefully.

"Mm, just a small matter." Song Tianhao picked up his chopsticks, his tone casual.

"Over at CJ Entertainment, Chairman Lee Jae-hyun's assistant wants to invite me to 'talk'."

He used the word "talk" with a flat tone, but the three people present all understood the subtext behind it.

Jessica Jung's hand holding the chopsticks tightened slightly.

Tiffany Hwang and Krystal Jung also stopped moving and looked at Song Tianhao.

"The attitude sounds much softer than before."

Song Tianhao picked up a mouthful of vegetables, put them in his mouth, and chewed slowly, as if he were talking about an unimportant matter.

He picked up his phone and tapped his fingers rapidly on the screen, seemingly replying to a message.

The dining room quieted down, with only the faint sounds of the city night drifting in from outside the window.

After a while, Song Tianhao put down his phone, picked up his water glass to take a sip, and looked up to find all three of them watching him.

He smiled, "Why aren't you eating? If the Korean beef gets cold, the texture will suffer."

"President..." Jessica Jung looked at him, her voice very soft, "Is it... because of me?"

Song Tianhao met her gaze and did not deny it, nodding, "A part of it is. However," his tone shifted, carrying an unquestionable certainty, "it will be resolved soon. You only have one task now: focus on recovering and get well as soon as possible. You don't need to worry about these things."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Jessica Jung's cast-covered arm, then looking back into her eyes.

His tone carried a trace of something imperceptible, almost expectant, "I am waiting to see you trample all those who made you fall under your feet."

He didn't say this heavily, nor was there any harsh tone, but the meaning behind it made Jessica Jung's heart tremble violently.

"Trample all those who made you fall under your feet."

She looked at Song Tianhao, looked into his calm, waveless eyes.

There was no incitement, no anger, only a cold, matter-of-fact statement.

It was as if this matter wasn't a form of revenge, but an inevitable result—a goal she only needed to work on recovering to achieve.

A surge of warmth rose from the bottom of her heart, quickly spreading to her limbs and bones.

It wasn't an impulse, but a calmer, more resolute strength.

She put down her chopsticks, sat up straight, and looked at Song Tianhao, her eyes incredibly bright, answering clearly, "Yes! I will!"

Song Tianhao watched the fire reignited in her eyes, nodded almost imperceptibly, and said nothing more, just picked up the serving chopsticks and placed another piece of Korean beef into her bowl.

"Eat."

Jessica Jung lowered her head, looking at the extra piece of meat in her bowl, picked up her chopsticks, but didn't eat immediately.

She was silent for a few seconds, then said in a very soft but clear voice, "President, thank you."

Song Tianhao was drinking his soup and looked up upon hearing this, "Thank you for what?"

Jessica Jung looked up, her gaze clear and earnest, "Everything."

Everything.

Saving her, protecting her, arranging all of this for her, and in her most painful and helpless moments, using his way to push her to keep moving forward.

Also, that sentence just now, which made her blood boil more than any comfort could.

Song Tianhao looked at her for two seconds, then his lips seemed to curve upward slightly.

"Then get well quickly."

Outside the window, the city neon lights lit up one after another; the banks of the Han River were brilliant with lights, and the traffic flowed like a weave.

Inside the window, under the warm light, the four of them sat around the table, the aroma of food and occasional laughter intertwined, forming a quiet and warm picture.

Jessica Jung picked up that piece of Korean beef, put it in her mouth, and chewed it slowly and forcefully, as if tasting a certain determination.

Song Tianhao picked up his phone again; on the screen was the latest message just sent by Soyeon: "Chairman Lee Jae-hyun wants to speak with you directly. Also, we received news that a middle manager at CJ Entertainment has been internally investigated for 'improper operation causing damage to company interests.' It is said to be related to the previous suppression of our theater screenings."

He tapped his finger lightly on the screen and replied, "Chairman Lee Jae-hyun's call, answer it tomorrow at three in the afternoon. As for that middle manager... 'accidentally' leak the information to one or two media outlets we have good relations with. Remember, it must be 'accidental'."

Send.

He put down his phone, his gaze falling across the dining table.

Jessica Jung was whispering something to Krystal Jung, her profile appearing soft and resolute under the light.

Tiffany Hwang was eating while secretly taking a picture of Jessica Jung eating with her phone; Krystal Jung discovered it, and the two laughed and horsed around a bit.

Song Tianhao picked up his water glass and took a slow sip.

The water was warm, with a hint of sweetness.