137: Chapter 137 contains no ambiguity, only a clear declaration of belonging.

In the middle of the night, the lights were still on in the top-floor office of the Sky Entertainment headquarters building.

Song Tianhao sat behind his expansive desk, with a freshly delivered document spread out before him. It was a file Jang Se-hoon had spent the night compiling, containing all the information on Director Jung Chang-ho, the Director of the Artist Management Division at CJ Entertainment.

The thick stack of documents detailed everything from when Director Jung Chang-ho joined CJ Group as an intern thirty years ago, to his current role overseeing the management of nearly one-third of the artists under CJ Entertainment. His resume was impressive, his connections deep, and he was a true "power player" in the South Korea entertainment industry.

The file recorded his history of success in detail: from a low-level employee who accompanied seniors to drinking parties to smile and serve, to taking charge of training newcomers independently, and finally being promoted due to his "flexible tactics" and being "adept at solving problems." By the age of thirty-five, he had become the youngest director at CJ Entertainment.

"Adept at solving problems"—the file used a very subtle term.

Song Tianhao flipped through the pages, and the content gradually changed. Starting ten years ago, a significant portion of the female artists, especially the new actresses, handled by Director Jung Chang-ho "voluntarily" terminated their contracts during the contract period, moving to other small companies or simply fading out of the industry.

The file included copies of several termination agreements. The breach of contract penalties were unreasonably low; some were even zero.

Further on were seven or eight names, followed by brief explanations of their situations. In some cases, their families suddenly received an "endowment" of unknown origin; in others, family members opened new shops; or the tuition fees for younger siblings were covered by a "benefactor." The timing of these events all coincided with when these female artists "voluntarily" terminated their contracts.

There was no direct evidence, but all the clues pointed in the same direction.

The file ended with a few photos printed on plain A4 paper. The resolution wasn't high, but the faces were clear. They were candid shots from different occasions: at the entrance of a private room in a high-end restaurant, in a corner of an underground parking lot, and in a hotel corridor. In every photo, Director Jung Chang-ho was with a young, beautiful female artist.

Most of the female artists' faces were pixelated, but their figures and clothing showed they were not the same person. In one photo, Director Jung Chang-ho's hand was resting on a female artist's shoulder. The actress had her face turned to the side, her expression stiff, her body shrinking back slightly, yet she didn't dare to pull away.

Song Tianhao's gaze lingered on that photo for a few seconds before he closed the file and locked it in the bottom drawer of his desk.

"President," Jang Se-hoon said, standing in front of the desk with a serious expression, "Director Jung Chang-ho has made a move. He called Director Lee Chang-dong's studio with a very unpleasant tone, claiming that the script for "dark light" has "problematic values" and needs to be re-evaluated.

Director Jung Chang-ho also hinted that if they insisted on using certain "unsuitable" actors, the cinema chains under CJ might reconsider their screening schedules."

Song Tianhao picked up the black coffee on the table and took a sip. It had already gone cold, tasting bitter and astringent.

"What was Director Lee Chang-dong's reaction?"

"He is under a lot of pressure," Jang Se-hoon said. "Director Lee Chang-dong is an artist; he doesn't lack investors looking to work with him, but he truly loves the script for "dark light" this time. CJ is the largest entertainment group in South Korea, and its cinema chains account for thirty-five percent of the national market share.

If CJ really blocks the screening schedule, the film's box office will look terrible, and subsequent overseas distribution will also be affected."

Song Tianhao didn't speak, his fingers tapping lightly on the desktop.

At that moment, his personal phone on the table vibrated. The caller ID showed "Son Ye-jin."

Song Tianhao answered the phone. Before he could speak, Son Ye-jin's voice came from the other end, more hurried than usual, carrying undisguisable worry:

"President, have you heard? The rumor in the industry is that CJ has declared they will block the screening schedule for "dark light." Several producers who are usually on good terms with Director Lee Chang-dong just messaged me, asking about the situation indirectly. Director Lee Chang-dong also called me just now, and he... his voice sounded very tired."

Song Tianhao listened, his gaze fixed on the Seoul nightscape outside the window in the early morning. The Han River in the distance looked like a black ribbon, with the lights on both banks twinkling like stars.

"Tell Director Lee Chang-dong," Song Tianhao said, his voice calm and ripple-free, "Sky Entertainment will handle the screening schedule. You just need to prepare for tomorrow's performance; don't worry about anything else."

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. Son Ye-jin's voice lowered, but it carried a different emotion: "President, are you... confident? CJ's cinema market share is huge. If they really..."

"Sky Entertainment has its own cinema chains. Although the share isn't as large as CJ's, it is enough to guarantee the basic screening schedule for "dark light.""

Song Tianhao said, his tone as casual as if he were commenting on the weather: "If that's not enough, I'll just acquire a few more. The process for Han Hyo-joo to sign with Sky Entertainment is already underway; the legal department will finalize all documents by tomorrow morning at the latest. Starting tomorrow, she is my person. CJ's hands won't be able to reach her."

When he said "my person," his tone was natural, without any ambiguity; it was simply a clear declaration of ownership.

The other end of the line was quiet for a moment, and then Son Ye-jin's voice came through, much more relaxed this time, even carrying a hint of a smile: "Understood, President. I will relay this to Director Lee Chang-dong. Then... we won't disturb you any further. Han Hyo-joo and I are still in the rehearsal room."

"Still in the rehearsal room?" Song Tianhao glanced at the clock on the wall: 2:15 AM.

"Yes, we want to find the feeling again. Han Hyo-joo is very driven; I'm afraid she'll get too tired, so I'm staying with her," Son Ye-jin said. "President, we'll hang up now. You should get some rest early, too."

"Hmm."

After hanging up, Song Tianhao stood up and picked up the suit jacket draped over the back of his chair.

"President, are you going out?" Jang Se-hoon asked.

"Going to check on the rehearsal room," Song Tianhao said while putting on his jacket. "Keep a close eye on Director Jung Chang-ho. He should already know that Han Hyo-joo has lost contact and that the audition location has been moved to our place.

Given his personality, he won't just let it go. Have the security department raise their alert level, especially from tonight until the auditions end tomorrow. Record every unfamiliar face inside and outside the Sky Entertainment building."

"Yes." Jang Se-hoon nodded and added, "Also, Director Jung Chang-ho sent two "assistants" over this afternoon, claiming they were here to deliver "left-behind personal items" to Han Hyo-joo. They were stopped at the front desk.

They tried to force their way in but were "escorted" out by our security. The whole process was monitored, the footage has been backed up, and as you instructed, an anonymous copy was sent to the email address of the inspection department at CJ Group headquarters."

Song Tianhao paused for a moment, a faint curve appearing at the corner of his mouth: "Do it cleanly; don't let anyone find any leverage."

"Don't worry. The two of them were carrying hidden recording devices, which triggered an alarm from our anti-eavesdropping equipment as soon as they entered the lobby. By the time they left, the memory chips in their devices had already been burned; they didn't record anything." When Jang Se-hoon said this, there was the calmness of a professional in his tone.

Song Tianhao nodded and, without saying anything more, walked out of the office.

The Sky Entertainment production center is on the third floor, occupying the entire level. Besides several professional studios and recording booths, there are also a few rehearsal rooms of varying sizes for actors to rehearse and practice lines. At this hour, most of the floor was dark, with only the largest rehearsal room in the back still lit.

Song Tianhao didn't let anyone follow him and walked over by himself.

The door to the rehearsal room was a specially made soundproof glass door with blinds drawn inside. However, through the gaps, one could see the lights inside, bright as day, and moving shadows.

He didn't go in directly but stood outside the door, looking in through the gap in the blinds.

The rehearsal room was large, with mirrors on all four sides. At this moment, the mirrors reflected countless "Yoon Soo-ah"s.

Han Hyo-joo stood in the center of the rehearsal room, wearing a simple white T-shirt and sweatpants, her hair tied in a bun. A few stray strands were dampened by sweat, clinging to her cheeks and neck. Facing the mirror, she was acting out the scene where Yoon Soo-ah calms a manic patient in a psychiatric hospital.

Her expression was so tender it could drip water; her eyes were focused and tolerant, her voice soft and slow, carrying a strange, soothing power. She slowly, tentatively reached out, vaguely embracing the air as if a suffering, struggling patient were truly there.

Then, her expression in the mirror changed, bit by bit, at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The tenderness remained, but deep in her eyes, something cold seeped out. Her lips still held a smile, but the smile had become subtle, like pity, or perhaps some kind of condescending mockery. Her arms, holding the "patient," tightened slightly—not for comfort, but as a form of control.

Her lips moved without making a sound, but the lip-sync matched the line from the script: "Shh... be quiet, it will be over soon. I will make you... quiet forever."

Then, her expression changed abruptly again. As if scalded, she released her hands and stumbled back a few steps, her face showing genuine fear and struggle. She gasped for air, looking at her own hands with a panicked gaze, as if they were covered in invisible blood.

She switched between the two states—once, twice, three times... Each time, she was more immersed, more torn.

In the corner of the rehearsal room, Son Ye-jin sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the wall with the script spread over her knees. She wasn't looking at the mirror or at Han Hyo-joo; she just lowered her head slightly, eyes closed, her lips moving silently as she memorized the lines.

Her expression was very calm, even somewhat ethereal, as if her soul had detached and entered another world.

Occasionally, she would open her eyes and look at a point in the void, her gaze complex—filled with pity, madness, and struggle, eventually settling into a bottomless darkness. That was the look in Yoon Soo-ah's eyes when she faced the demons in her heart alone in the dead of night.

The air was filled with the scent of sweat and a taut, hair-trigger tension. There was only the sound of them adjusting their breathing occasionally and the sound of footsteps rubbing against the floor.

Song Tianhao watched quietly for a few minutes, then turned around and walked to the small pantry on that floor. He used the coffee machine to make two cups of hot cocoa and asked the duty assistant to find two clean blankets.

He returned to the entrance of the rehearsal room carrying a tray and knocked gently on the door.

The two people inside stiffened simultaneously, as if startled awake from a deep dream.

Han Hyo-joo turned around abruptly and saw Song Tianhao at the door; a cold expression belonging to Yoon Soo-ah still lingered on her face, but it was quickly replaced by panic.

Son Ye-jin also opened her eyes, her gaze quickly focusing and regaining its usual clarity.

"President?" Son Ye-jin spoke first, standing up and smoothing out her clothes.

Han Hyo-joo also hurriedly stood up straight, subconsciously wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, and lowered her head in a slightly awkward manner: "President..."

Song Tianhao pushed the door open and placed the tray on the small table by the entrance.

"Take a break," he said, his voice sounding exceptionally clear in the empty rehearsal room.

He picked up a cup of hot cocoa, walked over to Son Ye-jin, and handed it to her.

The white paper cup was warm, and written on it in black marker was a simple message: "For Ye-jin: Your light is enough to illuminate any darkness."

Son Ye-jin took the cup, her fingertips brushing against the writing, and paused for a moment before looking up at Song Tianhao.

Her eyes appeared very bright under the lights, as if something were shimmering within them.

She didn't speak, but instead held the cup with both hands and took a small sip, the rising steam blurring her features.

Song Tianhao picked up the other cup and walked toward Han Hyo-joo, who was still standing in front of the mirror.

Han Hyo-joo looked even more exhausted than Son Ye-jin; the dark circles under her eyes were heavier, and her lips were slightly chapped.

She watched Song Tianhao approach, feeling somewhat at a loss, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her T-shirt.

Song Tianhao handed her the cup. On the other cup was written: "For Hyo-joo: Yoon Soo-ah, welcome to Sky Entertainment."

Han Hyo-joo took the cup, her gaze lingering on the words for a long time.

Then, her eyes turned red at a visible speed, but she blinked hard, forcing back the welling warmth.

She held the warm cup tightly in both hands, as if holding something precious, and lowered her head, saying very softly: "Thank you, President."

"Put these on, don't catch a cold." Song Tianhao handed them each a blanket.

Son Ye-jin took hers naturally and wrapped it around herself. Han Hyo-joo followed suit, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders.

The warm blanket and hot drink helped her tense body relax a little.

"What time is it?" Son Ye-jin asked, her voice slightly raspy.

"Almost three o'clock." Song Tianhao glanced at his watch. "You should go back, get a few hours of rest, and be ready for the audition at ten in the morning."

Hearing this, Han Hyo-joo looked up anxiously: "President, I... I want to practice a little longer, just a little! There's an emotional transition in one part that I don't think is natural enough yet..."

"That's enough." Song Tianhao interrupted her, his tone flat but firm. "What you need right now isn't practice, but rest. If you burn yourself out, you'll be a blank slate on stage tomorrow, which will only do more harm."

Han Hyo-joo opened her mouth to argue, but meeting Song Tianhao's calm gaze, she swallowed her words.

She was indeed very tired; her body felt like it was filled with lead, and her head was buzzing. She knew that in the last few times she performed that scene, she had been relying on inertia, and the quality had been slipping.

"But..." She was still reluctant.

Song Tianhao walked up to her, closing the distance. Han Hyo-joo could smell a faint scent on him, like cedar mixed with a hint of tobacco—it was refreshing, yet oppressive. She subconsciously held her breath.

Song Tianhao looked down at her. The light from the rehearsal room ceiling shone from above him, casting his face in shadow, making his expression unclear. She could only hear his steady voice:

"Remember, the person standing there tomorrow is not Han Hyo-joo; it is Yoon Soo-ah."

His voice wasn't loud, but every word struck Han Hyo-joo in the heart.

"And Yoon Soo-ah," he paused, his voice dropping a few degrees, carrying a tone of ironclad conviction, "never bows to any threat. She only turns threats into the nourishment she needs to survive."

Han Hyo-joo shuddered, looking up at him. In the shadows, she could see his distinct jawline and those eyes that remained sharp even in the dark.

In that instant, she suddenly understood. The President wasn't just talking about the character. He was telling her that tomorrow's audition wasn't just a contest of acting skills.

"I..." Han Hyo-joo's voice choked, then she nodded vigorously, her eyes gradually becoming resolute. "I understand, President. I will do it."

Song Tianhao gave a hum of acknowledgment and stepped back, increasing the distance.

"Sehun is waiting downstairs; he will take you home and pick you up again tomorrow morning," Song Tianhao said to both of them. "Don't think about anything when you get back, take a hot bath, and get a good sleep."

Son Ye-jin and Han Hyo-joo exchanged a look and both nodded.

The two packed up their things, clutching their blankets and holding their unfinished hot cocoa, and followed Song Tianhao out of the rehearsal room. The corridor lights were much dimmer than in the rehearsal room, making them feel a bit disoriented for a moment.

When they reached the elevator, Song Tianhao didn't enter, but simply pressed the down button.

"Aren't you coming, President?" Son Ye-jin asked.

"I have some things to take care of," Song Tianhao said. "Go on, the elevator is here."

Son Ye-jin and Han Hyo-joo stepped into the elevator. As the doors slowly closed, Han Hyo-joo saw through the gap that Song Tianhao was still standing in the corridor, his posture upright like a silent tree, guarding this territory that belonged to him.

Behind him, the lights in the rehearsal room were still on, and the countless "Yoon Soo-ah"s in the mirrors seemed to still be silently performing the tearing apart of light and darkness.

The elevator descended.

Han Hyo-joo leaned against the cold elevator wall, feeling as though all her strength had been drained. But inside, something was heating up, burning. She looked down at the words "Yoon Soo-ah, welcome to Sky Entertainment" on the cup, her fingers gently brushing over the handwriting.

Son Ye-jin stood beside her, also looking at the line on her own cup: "Your light is enough to illuminate any darkness," a faint, genuine smile appearing at the corners of her mouth.

"Ye-jin Unni," Han Hyo-joo suddenly spoke up, her voice very soft. "Is the President... always like this?"

Son Ye-jin turned to look at her, her gaze gentle. "Like what?"

"Just..." Han Hyo-joo struggled to find the right words. "He seems very cold, and he doesn't talk much, but the things he does... they make people feel especially at ease. As if even if the sky were to fall, he would hold it up."

Son Ye-jin smiled, a complex meaning in that smile, as if she were recalling something.

"Him," she said softly, "he really is that kind of person. So, Hyo-joo, don't be afraid. Perform well tomorrow. Perform for those who are waiting to see you make a fool of yourself, and perform for those who are willing to back you up."

Han Hyo-joo nodded vigorously, gripping the paper cup tightly.

The elevator reached the first floor, and Jang Se-hoon was already waiting at the entrance. The two got into the car, and the black sedan silently drove into the streets of Seoul in the early hours of the morning.

Back on the third floor, after the elevator doors closed, Song Tianhao did not immediately return to his office. He walked to the end of the corridor, where the security monitoring room was located.

The security captain on duty immediately stood up. "President."

"Any anomalies tonight?" Song Tianhao asked, his gaze sweeping over the dozens of surveillance screens on the wall. On the screens, every entrance, corridor, and parking lot of the building was quiet and empty.

"Around eleven o'clock, two people claiming to be delivery workers tried to sneak in through the freight elevator in the underground parking lot. We stopped them, checked their IDs and packages, and they were empty. We have already escorted them out."

The security captain reported, "At one in the morning, a black sedan parked in the alley behind the west side of the building. It stayed for forty minutes, and someone inside was using binoculars to observe our third-floor windows. Before our people could get there, the car drove off. The license plate was a fake."

Song Tianhao nodded, not surprised.

"Just someone tailing us, no need to alert them."

He said, his gaze fixed on the surveillance feed of the third-floor rehearsal room corridor, where there was no one, only the lights of that rehearsal room at the end still on. "From tonight until the end of tomorrow's audition, the security level for this building, especially the third floor and Conference Room 5 used for the audition, is to be raised to the highest level."

"Except for the registered judges, staff, and auditioning actors, do not let anyone else in—not even a fly—without my personal approval."

"Yes!" the security captain replied, standing at attention, his voice ringing out firmly.

Song Tianhao took one last look at the surveillance screens and turned to leave.

Returning to his top-floor office, the sky outside was already turning a pale grey, the deepest darkness of the early morning fading away.

He sat back behind his desk, where two new documents had appeared. One was the draft of the exclusive artist contract between Han Hyo-joo and Sky Entertainment, which the legal department had drafted overnight; the terms were generous, and the penalty clause was marked in red: "To be fully borne by Party A, Sky Entertainment."

The other was the supplementary information Jang Se-hoon had just delivered regarding several investors that Director Jung Chang-ho had been in frequent contact with over the past six months; among them were two names related to the internal power struggle within CJ Group.

Song Tianhao picked up the contract draft and flipped to the final signature page, where Han Hyo-joo's name was still blank. He looked at it for a few seconds, then put it down.

Then, he picked up the script for "dark light" and flipped directly to the last few pages, to the scene where Yoon Soo-ah, on a rooftop in a rainy night, delivers her final lines to the television executive who had been harassing and coercing her for years.

The lines were: "You see, when the light disappears, the darkness is not what's terrifying. What's terrifying is the person who pretends the light still exists. And you—you are the one who pretends the light still exists, yet pushes everyone into the darkness. Now, it's your turn."

He closed the script and looked out the window.

On the horizon, the morning light was gradually spreading, dyeing the edges of the clouds red.