167: Chapter 167 If she acts like a fool, will she embarrass the club president?

One week later, when the plane carrying Song Tianhao landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport, it was drizzling in Paris. Outside the porthole, leaden clouds hung low, and the wet runway reflected the shimmering lights of the airport.

Song Tianhao turned off airplane mode, and his phone immediately began to vibrate. There were several unread messages and missed calls. He gave them a quick glance; most were work-related.

He put his phone away and looked at the two girls beside him. Choi Sulli sat by the window, her face almost pressed against the glass, gazing at the unfamiliar city scenery outside. Her eyes shimmered with a mix of excitement and unease.

Krystal Jung sat on the other side of the aisle, wearing headphones and looking down at a fashion magazine. Her expression appeared calmer, but her slightly pursed lips betrayed a hint of tension.

This was the first time Song Tianhao had taken them abroad for an important event since f(x) was officially brought under Sky Entertainment.

Paris Fashion Week, with invitations from top brands, was an excellent exposure opportunity for any South Korean idol and a litmus test for their fashion sense and international appeal.

He had originally planned to bring only Choi Sulli, as the brand had specifically mentioned admiring her unique temperament, which hovered between a young girl and an elf. However, Krystal had the best English in the group, and her temperament was cool and sophisticated, suitable for such occasions, so he ultimately decided that both would go.

"We have arrived. Prepare to deplane." Song Tianhao's voice brought the two girls back to their senses.

"Yes, President." Choi Sulli immediately sat up straight, busily checking her seatbelt. Krystal also took off one headphone and nodded.

Clearing customs and collecting luggage went smoothly. The brand had sent a private car and a Chinese-descendant assistant, Assistant Lin Wei, to wait at the arrival gate.

Assistant Lin Wei, who was in her thirties, looked capable and efficient. Her French and English were both extremely fluent. Upon seeing Song Tianhao, she smiled and walked up to greet him in Chinese, speaking with a slight accent but clearly:

"Mr. Song, welcome to Paris. I am Assistant Lin Wei, the assistant arranged by the brand for you and the two ladies this time. I will be responsible for coordinating the upcoming itinerary. Please let me know if you have any needs at any time."

"Thank you for your hard work, Assistant Lin Wei." Song Tianhao shook her hand and responded in fluent French, "These two are Sulli and Krystal."

A flash of surprise crossed Assistant Lin Wei's eyes, followed by a more genuine smile. She turned to Choi Sulli and Krystal, greeting them in French mixed with simple Korean greetings.

Choi Sulli immediately flashed her signature sweet smile, nodded vigorously, and responded with the few French words she knew: "Bonjour! Merci!" (Hello! Thank you!).

Krystal said, "Nice to meet you" in English, her attitude polite but slightly distant.

On the way to the hotel, the rain gradually stopped, and sunlight peeked through the gaps in the clouds, gilding the ancient Parisian streets.

Choi Sulli leaned against the car window, watching the Haussmann-style buildings, open-air cafes, and pedestrians walking their dogs flash by, occasionally letting out small exclamations of wonder. Krystal was also looking out the window, but she seemed much quieter, blinking occasionally as if silently noting something down in her mind.

Song Tianhao sat in the passenger seat, listening to Assistant Lin Wei introduce the itinerary for the next few days: tonight was the brand's welcome dinner, the next two days were two major shows, followed by exclusive interviews and shoots. It was a packed schedule.

Assistant Lin Wei spoke very quickly, mostly in French, occasionally mixing in professional English terminology. In the backseat, Choi Sulli's eyes gradually shifted from excitement to confusion as she listened, her fingers unconsciously twisting the corner of her clothes. Although Krystal was trying hard to listen, her brows were slightly furrowed, as some vocabulary was clearly beyond her range of understanding.

They checked into the Hôtel Ritz Paris, located next to the Place Vendôme. The ancient and elegant building, heavy revolving doors, doormen in crisp uniforms, and the air filled with a mixture of high-end fragrance, old wood, and fresh flowers.

The lobby was not particularly spacious, but every detail exuded historical depth and understated luxury. In the distance, the faint, ethereal sound of a piano could be heard from somewhere.

Assistant Lin Wei handled the check-in for them. Song Tianhao had an independent luxury suite, while Choi Sulli and Krystal shared the suite next door.

As they received their key cards and walked toward the elevator, they passed through a corridor covered with thick Persian carpets. The door of a room next to them suddenly opened, and several men and women with anxious expressions, arguing loudly in Korean, spilled out. Judging by their attire and temperament, they seemed to be the manager and artists of another South Korean team.

"...I said mineral water! Not sparkling water! How is this supposed to be communicated!" A man wearing glasses, who appeared to be the manager, was gesturing in Korean at the hotel waiter, his face flushed red.

The female artist behind him looked very young, probably a rookie. She was dressed stylishly but appeared somewhat reserved, currently hanging her head in embarrassment, her fingers clutching her skirt.

The waiter was an elderly French gentleman with a look of confusion, trying to explain in heavily accented English: "Monsieur, this is the mineral water you ordered..."

"No! Not sparkling water!" The manager waved his hands in frustration.

The scene was somewhat chaotic and comical for a moment.

Assistant Lin Wei glanced over and said quickly to Song Tianhao in French: "They are from another South Korean entertainment company, seems to be a rookie girl group. There appears to be a problem with language communication."

Her tone was flat, revealing no particular emotion, but Song Tianhao could sense that subtle hint of helplessness that a professional feels toward amateur peers.

Choi Sulli and Krystal also saw this scene. Choi Sulli subconsciously leaned closer to Song Tianhao, her eyes revealing a sense of relief that "thankfully we have the President." Krystal pursed her lips and looked away, seemingly finding it a bit embarrassing.

Song Tianhao did not stop, walking straight toward the elevator as if he hadn't seen the commotion nearby. Assistant Lin Wei stepped forward quickly and pressed the elevator button. The elevator doors slid open silently, and Song Tianhao turned to the side, signaling for Choi Sulli and Krystal to enter first.

The two girls quickly walked in, followed by Song Tianhao and Assistant Lin Wei. The elevator doors slowly closed, shutting out the argument in the corridor. In the narrow space, Choi Sulli secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Upon entering the suite and putting down their luggage, Assistant Lin Wei arranged to bring the stylist over in an hour and then left. Choi Sulli and Krystal's room had a connecting door to Song Tianhao's suite, making it convenient for looking after them.

As soon as Choi Sulli entered the room, she rushed to the window, looking at the square below and the Parisian rooftops in the distance, letting out a small cheer: "Wow! So beautiful!"

However, the excitement only lasted a few minutes. When she turned around and saw the thick, beautifully packaged folder on the living room coffee table, as well as the gown hanging on the rack nearby covered in a dust bag, her smile slowly faded.

She walked over and carefully picked up the folder to open it. Inside were beautifully printed French itineraries, notices, dinner seating charts, brand introductions, and several documents that needed to be signed.

Full of French, mixed with English, it looked like gibberish to her. She flipped through a few pages, her eyes becoming increasingly dazed, and her fingers unconsciously clutched the hem of her hoodie.

"Krystal, this... can you read this?" She looked toward Krystal, who was organizing her luggage, for help.

Krystal walked over, took a look, and pointed to a few lines of English: "This roughly explains the dinner procedure... this is the seating chart... as for the rest..." She shook her head, her pretty face also showing difficulty, "There are many technical terms; I can't read them."

Choi Sulli bit her lower lip. The anxiety and unease brought about on the plane and by the new environment were now magnified. This was Paris Fashion Week, a top brand's dinner; there would be many media, designers, celebrities...

If she didn't know anything and acted like a fool, would she embarrass the President? Embarrass the company? Or even embarrass South Korean artists?

The more she thought about it, the more panicked she became. Choi Sulli clutched the folder, hesitated for a moment, and then walked to the door connecting to Song Tianhao's suite and knocked gently.

The door opened quickly. Song Tianhao seemed to have just hung up a phone call and was still holding his phone. He had changed into a comfortable light gray cashmere sweater, looking less business-like than usual and more casual.

"President..." Choi Sulli looked up and handed the folder over, her voice unconsciously carrying a hint of reliance and grievance, "This... I, I can't read it. The notices written on it, and the dinner procedure, what should I do? Will I make a mistake?"

As she spoke, her other hand reached out unconsciously, gently clutching the hem of Song Tianhao's suit jacket. It was a little habit of hers when she was nervous or seeking comfort, like a restless little beast grabbing the hem of someone she trusted.

Song Tianhao looked down at the hem she was clutching, said nothing, and naturally took the folder, quickly browsing through it. His gaze moved across the paper very quickly, as if the dense French posed no obstacle to him at all.

A few seconds later, he closed the folder and looked at the slightly bewildered Choi Sulli, his voice steady: "Don't worry, it's normal not to understand."

At this moment, the doorbell rang. Krystal went to open the door, and it was Assistant Lin Wei bringing the brand's stylist and two assistants over.

The stylist was a French woman in her forties named Sophie, elegant in temperament and speaking very quickly. She brought two assistants pushing a mobile clothing rack filled with clothes, and the room suddenly seemed a bit crowded.

Sophie greeted Song Tianhao, Choi Sulli, and Krystal warmly, then began to introduce the haute couture gowns prepared for them that evening. Choi Sulli's was a light cherry blossom pink tulle long dress, adorned with tiny crystals, light and dreamy.

Krystal's was a sharp-cut pearl white pantsuit, handsome yet not lacking in softness. Both outfits were extremely exquisite, making Choi Sulli and Krystal's eyes light up.

But immediately after, Sophie began explaining the precautions for wearing the gowns, the matching jewelry, shoes, as well as the dress code for the dinner, entry times, media flow, etc., in French mixed with English.

Choi Sulli tried hard to listen, catching the sporadic words she could understand, but most of it went in one ear and out the other. She could only maintain a polite smile, while her fingers were quietly hidden behind her back, clutching her skirt.

Just as her smile was about to stiffen, Song Tianhao stepped forward half a step, just slightly in front of her, and spoke to Sophie in fluent, clear French. He not only accurately repeated all the main points Sophie had just mentioned but also added a few sentences, his tone steady and his wording precise.

Sophie listened, her eyes widening slightly, then she revealed an appreciative smile, nodding repeatedly, and her speaking speed slowed down, beginning to communicate with Song Tianhao in more detail.

Choi Sulli stood behind his side, looking at his tall and straight back, listening to the fluent language pouring from his mouth that she couldn't understand at all but which was inexplicably reassuring, her fingers clutching her skirt loosening unconsciously. She saw Sophie gesturing to her hair while speaking, then pointing to the gown.

Then Song Tianhao nodded, turned his face to the side, and said to her in a low voice in Korean: "Ms. Sophie thinks your hairstyle today is very sweet, but suggests that for the dinner, you could slightly pin up your hair to reveal your neck and collarbone lines, which would better suit the temperament of this gown. What do you think?"

"Ah? Okay, okay! Listen to the professional!" Choi Sulli nodded quickly, the panic in her heart inexplicably soothed by more than half.

After the communication was finished, Sophie and her assistants took the gowns to the room next door to prepare. Assistant Lin Wei also left temporarily. Only the three of them were left in the room.

Song Tianhao walked to the sofa and sat down, took a small black device out of his briefcase, adjusted it, and then handed Choi Sulli a wireless earpiece. "Put this on, channel one."

Choi Sulli took it, putting it on her right ear with some confusion. The earpiece was very light, almost imperceptible.

"During the banquet later, there will be a lot of people, so I will keep an eye on you. When you hear my voice, just smile, nod, or look in the direction my finger is pointing. I will tell you what to say and who to greet, and I will also teach you how to give simple answers."

Song Tianhao looked at her, his tone calm yet carrying an unquestionable sense of reliability. "Tonight, I am your 'exclusive translator.' Just follow me."

Exclusive translator.

Sulli froze for a moment; somewhere in her heart felt like it had been lightly brushed by a feather—a little itchy, yet also a little warm. Subconsciously, she touched the earpiece in her right ear and nodded vigorously. "Yes! I understand, President! Thank you, President!"

Beside her, Krystal, who was organizing her jewelry, paused almost imperceptibly for half a second before continuing to place her earrings into the velvet box. She lowered her eyelids, her long lashes casting a small shadow under her eyes, making it impossible to read her emotions.

An hour later, the dressed-up Sulli and Krystal appeared in the suite's living room. Under the lights, the two girls seemed completely transformed.

Sulli's pink long dress accentuated her porcelain skin. Her hair was elegantly half-up, revealing her slender neck and beautifully defined collarbones. Her makeup was fresh and clear, with the tear mole under her eye intentionally highlighted. She looked like an elf princess who had just stepped out of a forest, possessing an innocent yet unintentionally seductive allure.

Krystal's white pantsuit perfectly outlined her tall, slender figure. It was simple and sharp, complemented by pearl earrings and a touch of red lipstick, exuding a sophisticated sexiness amidst her cool, detached demeanor.

Song Tianhao had also changed into a perfectly tailored black formal suit, with a simple platinum brooch pinned to his lapel. Unlike his usual steady business attire, he looked a bit more distinguished and relaxed. He looked at the two of them and nodded. "Very beautiful. Are you ready?"

"We're ready, President!" Sulli took a deep breath. Although her eyes still held some nervousness, they were much firmer than before. Krystal also gave a soft "Mm."

The banquet was held in the hotel's historic ballroom. A massive crystal chandelier refracted brilliant light, illuminating the entire space as if it were daylight. The air was filled with the rustle of fine clothing, the clinking of glasses, and the fragrance of high-end perfume, champagne, and fresh flowers.

Celebrities, designers, supermodels, stars, and media from all over the world gathered together, and various languages wove into a low, buzzing hum.

Sulli followed closely half a step behind Song Tianhao. She could almost smell the faint, crisp scent of cedar on him, mixed with a hint of aftershave, which unexpectedly calmed her pounding heart a little.

In her right ear, where she wore the earpiece, came Song Tianhao's calm and steady voice. The volume was just right for only her to hear, and amidst the noisy background, it was as clear as a whisper.

"To the front left, the one in the dark blue suit with white hair is the editor-in-chief of the French edition of 'Vogue.' Smile, acknowledge with your eyes, and you can say 'Bonsoir (Good evening).'"

Sulli immediately flashed the standard, sweet smile she had practiced countless times. She looked at the distinguished editor-in-chief and greeted him in slightly awkward but clearly pronounced French: "Bonsoir, Monsieur."

The editor-in-chief clearly recognized her—or rather, recognized Song Tianhao beside her and this group that had recently become somewhat famous in the fashion circle. He smiled, nodded in response, and even complimented her dress in French.

Sulli only understood "dress" and "pretty." Just as she was feeling a bit helpless, Song Tianhao's voice sounded in her earpiece at the right moment: "He's complimenting your dress. Smile and say 'Merci (Thank you).'"

"Merci!" Sulli followed his lead readily.

Just like that, under Song Tianhao's silent guidance, Sulli successfully handled several rounds of greetings and small talk. Although it was just simple greetings and thanks, her posture was appropriate, her smile sweet, and combined with her highly recognizable appearance and aura, she actually left a good impression on several fashion industry figures.

Krystal followed a little further behind, handling things independently with her limited English. Although she was a bit reserved, she was still poised and appropriate.

Midway through, Sulli felt a bit thirsty and saw a waiter passing by with a tray of champagne and fruit juice. She hesitated for a moment and whispered to Song Tianhao: "President, I'd like to have something to drink."

"Go ahead, get some orange juice. Don't wander too far." Song Tianhao was in the middle of a conversation with an Italian buyer, but upon hearing this, he tilted his head slightly and whispered instructions in Korean.

Sulli nodded, lifted her skirt, and carefully walked toward the waiter.

She had just picked up a glass of orange juice and hadn't even had a chance to drink it when a tall, stylish French woman with a press badge hanging from her chest approached with a wine glass. She fired off a series of questions in French at a rapid pace, accompanied by enthusiastic gestures that made Sulli's scalp tingle.

"Sulli! Welcome to Paris! How does it feel to be invited by the brand to watch the show this time? Which season's designs left the deepest impression on you? Do you have any special experiences from attending Paris Fashion Week for the first time that you'd like to share with your French fans? Your look today is very beautiful; did you choose it yourself or was it a stylist's suggestion? ..."

The questions came crashing down like a barrage. Sulli froze in place, gripping the cold glass in her hand. The smile on her face stiffened, and her mind went blank. She could catch scattered words like "Paris," "feel," and "look," but she couldn't understand the full meaning at all, let alone organize a response.

The surrounding noise seemed to fade away instantly, leaving only the female reporter's opening and closing lips and those expectant eyes. She felt her cheeks heating up and her fingers turning cold; a familiar sense of panic from being left helpless in an unfamiliar environment quietly crawled up her spine.

Just then, in her right ear, that steady voice sounded again, slightly faster than before but still clear: "Don't panic. Stand still and smile. I'm coming over immediately."

Almost simultaneously, Sulli looked up, and over the female reporter's shoulder, she saw Song Tianhao walking toward her through the crowd.

He walked with composure and elegance, even nodding to an acquaintance he passed by along the way, but his deep gaze remained steadily and accurately fixed on her.

The surrounding fine clothing, wine, laughter, and lights seemed to become a blurred background; only the figure in the black formal suit walking steadily toward her was clear.

The female reporter was still waiting for an answer, tilting her head in some confusion.

Song Tianhao had already reached Sulli's side and, with extreme naturalness, turned sideways, blocking the space half a step between her and the reporter. He wore an impeccable, gentle yet distant smile and spoke in fluent French:

"Good evening, Ms. Reporter. Sulli is very grateful for your questions, and also grateful for the invitation from the brand and from Paris. However, she might need to go and greet the designer first. Can we chat a little later?"

His tone was polite but carried an unquestionable air, and his posture skillfully separated the reporter from her overly pressing questions.

The female reporter paused, looked at Song Tianhao, and then at Sulli behind him, who seemed to have let out a sigh of relief and was trying hard to maintain her smile. Seeming to understand something, she immediately put on an understanding smile: "Of course, of course! I was too impatient. Looking forward to the interview later."

"Certainly." Song Tianhao smiled and nodded, then very naturally placed a light hand on Sulli's arm, turned with her, and headed toward the relatively quiet terrace.

Away from the center of the crowd, the evening breeze, carrying the moisture from the Seine River, blew over, slightly dispelling some of the stuffiness inside the ballroom.

Sulli held the glass of orange juice she hadn't drunk, her fingers trembling slightly from the tension. She lowered her head, her voice very small: "I'm sorry, President... I messed up again..."

"No, you didn't." Song Tianhao's voice sounded from beside her, calm and waveless. "You did very well. In that situation, keeping a smile and not answering haphazardly is the most correct way to handle it."

Sulli looked up, her eyes appearing moist in the dim light of the terrace, like a startled fawn. "Really?"

"Really." Song Tianhao took a glass of water from a passing waiter's tray and handed it to her, replacing the cold glass of orange juice in her hand. "Drink this. Remember next time: if you want to leave my side, tell me first, or have Krystal accompany you."

Sulli took the warm water and took a small sip. The warm liquid slid down her throat, relaxing her tense nerves a little. She nodded and couldn't help but ask in a low voice: "President, what did you just... say to that reporter? She seemed to leave all of a sudden."

"I said you needed to go and greet the designer first. In this kind of setting, appropriately using a more important person as an excuse is a common social skill."

Song Tianhao looked at the lights of Paris in the distance, his profile sharply defined in the night. "It wasn't a lie, because we do indeed have to meet the designer later."

Sulli gave an "Oh," half-understanding, but the panic and lingering fear in her heart slowly dissipated under Song Tianhao's calm explanation.

She looked at his silhouette, suddenly remembering the phrase "I'm coming over immediately" in her earpiece, and the determined gaze he had when he walked through the crowd toward her. Somewhere in her heart, it felt like it was being gently wrapped by a warm feather, soft and secure.

Just then, Krystal also walked out of the ballroom, holding a glass of sparkling water.

She walked onto the terrace, looked at Sulli, then at Song Tianhao, and whispered in Korean: "Unnie, a reporter came looking for you earlier, asking which collection you were most looking forward to seeing this time. I handled it for you, saying that since it's your first time here, you are full of curiosity and anticipation for all the collections."

Sulli was stunned for a moment, only then remembering that she had completely forgotten about this in her panic earlier. She quickly said to Krystal: "Ah! Thank you, Krystal!"

Krystal shook her head and didn't say anything, just stood quietly to the side, also looking at the night view in the distance. Her profile looked exceptionally calm in the night, her long lashes lowered, not knowing what she was thinking.

Song Tianhao glanced at Krystal and nodded, which counted as acknowledgment of her quick-witted response. Then, he turned and said to Sulli: "Rested enough? It's time to go in; the designer is waiting."

"Mm!" Sulli took a deep breath, placed the water glass on the nearby table, and pulled herself together again.

The three of them walked back to the ballroom entrance, and the brilliant lights enveloped them once more. Just as Sulli stepped forward to keep up with Song Tianhao, he seemed to inadvertently fall half a step behind, happening to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with her.

In the moment they brushed past each other and their figures overlapped, his hand very quickly and gently grasped Sulli's wrist, which felt a bit cold as she held the empty glass.

It was just a touch, then immediately pulled away.

The warm touch, brief yet clear, was like a faint electric current that shot up Sulli's arm along her skin, making her whole body tremble slightly. She looked up in astonishment, only to see Song Tianhao's tall, upright back as he walked forward as usual, as if that moment just now had been her imagination.

But the trace of his warmth remaining on her wrist became incomparably clear in the cool air.