172: Chapter 172 is so good I can't get enough of it!

Back in her hotel room, Sulli was still clutching the hem of the suit jacket on her shoulders. The lingering warmth and scent on it wrapped around her as if alive, keeping her from feeling cold at all in Paris's cool night breeze; instead, her cheeks felt a little hot.

Krystal had been very quiet since they entered the elevator. Now, she just glanced at her and said, "Unnie, I'm going to take a shower first," and went straight back to her own bedroom.

Sulli nodded and sat down on the living room sofa. She didn't take off the jacket immediately, her fingers unconsciously caressing its exquisite fabric. It was a dark gray wool blend, delicate and smooth to the touch, with an indigo silk lining that gleamed dimly under the light.

She turned over a corner of the lining, where a cursive letter "S" was embroidered with silk thread of the same color—the abbreviation of Song Tianhao's name. It was very delicate and understated, just like the man himself.

Her phone vibrated. It was a message from her manager, Jang Se-hoon, asking if the dinner party had gone smoothly and about the coordination for the ELLE shoot.

Sulli replied briefly, but her gaze involuntarily drifted out the window. The Parisian night seeped in through the French windows, and in the distance, she could faintly see the flashing lights at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

She recalled that moment at the dinner. He had squatted down, focusing entirely on helping her out of her awkward state; he had taken off his suit jacket, wrapping her embarrassment without a moment's hesitation; he had supported her arm, telling her in a low voice to "smile"...

And just now, in the night breeze, he had turned around and draped the jacket, still carrying his body heat, over her shoulders.

"Sulli."

Song Tianhao's voice came from the doorway, interrupting her thoughts. Sometime without her realizing, he had changed out of his shirt and vest and was now wearing a dark gray cashmere cardigan, looking much more casual.

"President," Sulli immediately prepared to stand up.

"Stay seated," Song Tianhao said as he walked into the living room and sat down on the single sofa nearby, holding a tablet as if reviewing some documents. "Good work today. Although there was a slight mishap, the overall response was handled well."

"Pierre had a very good impression of you, thinking you have 'a kind of fragile beauty and resilience.'"

His tone was businesslike, as if summarizing work. Sulli's slightly drifting heart settled down a bit, but then rippled again because of the rare relay of an "outsider's" evaluation in his words.

"Really?" she couldn't help but ask, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes." Song Tianhao raised his gaze from the tablet and glanced at her. "So, don't dwell on the dress mishap anymore. People in the fashion industry have seen plenty of grand scenes and embarrassing moments."

"They will forget your little mishap tomorrow. What they will remember is your subsequent performance and," he paused, "the posture in handling emergencies."

He was referring to his own posture in handling the emergency. Sulli understood, and her cheeks grew warm again. "Thank you, President... I caused you trouble again today. That suit..."

"It's just a piece of clothing," Song Tianhao interrupted her, his tone flat. "I've already had someone send it to be taken care of. As for you," he looked back at her, his gaze searching, "have you adjusted your state for tomorrow's ELLE shoot? Get a good night's rest tonight."

"Yes, I will!" Sulli nodded vigorously.

Song Tianhao gave an "mm" and returned his gaze to the tablet, his finger sliding across the screen. The living room fell quiet, with only the faint sound of his fingertips occasionally touching the screen. Draped in his jacket, Sulli sat under the warm light, looking at his lowered brow and eyes, suddenly feeling a strange sense of peace at this moment.

After a while, Song Tianhao seemed to have finished handling whatever it was. He set down the tablet and looked at her. "Are you still tired?"

Sulli shook her head.

"Then, would you like to go see some night views?" Song Tianhao stood up and picked up another thin jacket resting on the arm of the sofa. "Consider it fulfilling yesterday's 'depending on the situation.' It's still early. We can take a look at the Iron Tower at the Champ de Mars, then take a walk along the Seine River before returning. It won't delay tomorrow's work."

Sulli's eyes lit up instantly, as if stars had fallen into them. "Can we? Can we really go?"

The joy on her face was almost overflowing, making her seem like a completely different person from the tense, cramped girl at the dinner.

A trace of a smile flickered in Song Tianhao's eyes, and he nodded. "Go change into some comfortable clothes and shoes. Meet in the lobby downstairs in ten minutes. Call Krystal along."

"Okay!" Sulli almost jumped up, forgetting she was still wearing his jacket, and jogged into her bedroom. The hem of the oversized suit jacket fluttered gently with her movements.

Ten minutes later, the three met in the hotel lobby. Sulli had changed into a light beige knit sweater and jeans, paired with white sneakers. Her long hair was tied in a loose ponytail, and she only wore a bit of lip balm, looking as fresh as a female college student out for a stroll.

Krystal had also changed into a comfortable hoodie and sweatpants, covered by a denim jacket. She looked a bit sleepy, but she still tagged along.

The black business van slipped quietly into the night. Paris at night had a completely different charm from the day, with bright lights shining and many leisurely patrons still sitting in street-side cafes and bistros. The car drove through the glowing streets, gradually approaching the banks of the Seine River.

When the Eiffel Tower came into full view through the car window without any warning, Sulli couldn't help but let out a soft, "Wow."

The Iron Tower at night was completely different from the daytime. It was entirely illuminated by golden lights, with countless tiny bulbs flashing and flowing along its body, looking as if it were draped in a flowing river of stars.

It stood under the deep blue sky, grand, brilliant, and carrying a dreamlike unreality. On the lawn of the Champ de Mars, tourists and couples sat or stood in small groups, looking up at this symbol of Paris.

The car stopped not far away. Song Tianhao got out first, said a few words to the driver, and then turned to the two in the car. "Just walk around nearby, don't go far. Return to the car in twenty minutes."

"Yes, President!" Sulli practically bounced out of the car, tilting her head back to look at the glowing Iron Tower without blinking, her face filled with unmasked excitement and wonder.

She took out her phone and kept taking pictures of the Iron Tower—landscape, portrait, zooming in, zooming out—while whispering to herself, "So beautiful," and "So spectacular."

Krystal also got out of the car, standing quietly to the side, looking at the Iron Tower, a slight smile curving her lips as well.

She took out her own phone, took a few night shots of the Iron Tower and the distant bridge over the Seine River, and then snapped a photo of Sulli's back as she stood there excitedly, the girl looking up with her ponytail swaying gently in the night breeze against the backdrop of the brilliant Iron Tower.

After taking a few landscape photos, Sulli seemed to feel it wasn't enough. She turned around, her gaze scanning between Song Tianhao and Krystal, before finally settling on Song Tianhao. She jogged over, stopped in front of him, and looked up, her eyes shining as if they were filled with the light of the Iron Tower.

"President!" She handed her phone over, her voice carrying an unconscious, lighthearted pleading. "Take a photo of me with the Iron Tower! A full-body shot, the kind that can fit the whole tower in!"

Song Tianhao looked at her face, which was exceptionally lively with excitement, took the phone, and gave a quiet, "Mm."

Sulli immediately ran a few meters away, turned her back to the Iron Tower, and struck a classic tourist pose, making peace signs with both hands, her smile brilliant, showing a row of neat white teeth. The night breeze blew the stray hairs around her cheeks, and the streetlights along with the distant tower light cast a soft, warm glow over her.

Song Tianhao held up the phone, found a good angle, and snapped several photos in quick succession.

"Did you get it?" Sulli ran back eagerly and took the phone to check.

She lowered her head, sliding her finger across the screen, her brow furrowing slightly as she mumbled, "This one looks like my eyes are closed, this one didn't get the whole Iron Tower, my expression in this one is so weird..."

Choi Sulli flipped through them, seemingly not completely satisfied with any of them.

She looked up at Song Tianhao again, those shining eyes carrying a hint of unconscious playfulness that even she didn't notice, and her voice softened. "President~ take a few more for me, just a few, okay?"

The night breeze seemed to grow a bit stronger, messing up her bangs and blowing her knit sweater tight against her body, outlining the girl's slender figure. She looked up at him expectantly, her eyes reflecting only him and the light of the Iron Tower behind him.

Song Tianhao fell silent for a second. In this second, he seemed to be assessing the time, or perhaps looking at the shimmering light in her eyes. Then, he nodded, his voice sounding deep and clear in the night breeze. "Alright."

He took the phone from her hand again, but instead of immediately having her stand back to pose, he looked at Krystal, who was standing quietly nearby. "Krystal."

Krystal turned her head to look at him.

"Take a photo of Sulli and me," Song Tianhao said calmly.

Sulli froze, her eyes widening slightly, as if she hadn't processed it.

Krystal was also visibly startled. Her gaze shifted between Song Tianhao's calm face and Sulli's slightly bewildered expression before she nodded, walked over, and silently took Sulli's phone handed over by Song Tianhao.

Song Tianhao walked to Sulli's side and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her, with about a step's distance between them—a polite but not overly close social distance.

He stood tall and straight, his hands casually slipped into the pockets of his cashmere cardigan, looking straight ahead at the flashing Iron Tower. Against the backdrop of the night and the distant lights, his profile was sharp and cold.

Sulli's heart suddenly skipped a beat, and then began to accelerate uncontrollably. Subconsciously, she took half a step closer to him. Though there was still a bit of distance, it seemed closer than before.

She could smell his clean scent, mixed with a hint of crisp aftershave. Mimicking Song Tianhao, she looked toward the Iron Tower, a smile rising on her face again. But this time, there was an unmistakable sweet joy in her smile, along with a tiny, imperceptible trace of tension.

Krystal held up the phone, looking at the two people in the frame through the screen. A tall man and a petite girl, standing in front of the brilliant Iron Tower.

The girl was still draped in the man's dark suit jacket, its hem fluttering slightly in the night breeze. She smiled very sweetly, tilting her head slightly, her gaze not entirely fixed on the Iron Tower, but rather leaning toward the person beside her.

And the man stood straight, his gaze seemingly fixed on the Iron Tower ahead. But if one looked closely, the focus of his gaze seemed a bit lower, more like it was resting on the tips of the girl's wind-blown hair or her slightly flushed cheek.

At the corner of his mouth was an extremely faint curve, almost impossible for the lens to capture, softening those cold lines.

*Click.*

Krystal pressed the shutter.

"Done," Krystal said, handing the phone back to Sulli, who ran over. Her voice was flat.

Sulli took the phone and eagerly looked at the photo. With just one glance, her cheeks flushed red at a speed visible to the naked eye, but her eyes were incredibly bright.

She stared at the screen, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the edge of the phone. After looking for several seconds, she raised her head and smiled sweetly at Krystal. "It's a great photo! Thank you, Krystal!"

Then, she stole another glance at Song Tianhao, who had already turned and walked toward the riverbank. The smile at the corners of her mouth could not be suppressed no matter what. She carefully saved the photo and set it as her phone's lock screen—hidden, of course, requiring a password to view.

The three walked slowly along the sidewalk of the Seine River. The river surface reflected the lights of both banks and the shadow of the distant Iron Tower, shimmering.

The night breeze blew with the slightly fishy scent of the river water. It was somewhat cool, but Sulli wrapped the suit jacket tightly around herself, feeling only warmth. A street performer was playing an accordion by the river, the melodious music drifting through the night.

"President," Sulli said softly as she looked at the light reflecting on the river, her voice sounding very tender in the night breeze. "Thank you."

Song Tianhao turned his head to look at her.

"Thank you for bringing me to Paris and showing me the Iron Tower," Sulli turned her head to look at his profile, saying very earnestly. "And... thank you for helping me at the dinner today, and... for everything before."

She was referring to everything, from the ginger tea that night, to the emergency kit, to the real-time translation in her ear, to taking off his suit jacket to save her from embarrassment.

Song Tianhao did not stop. His gaze remained on the flowing Seine River ahead, and his voice was calm. "I have received your thanks. However, Sulli..."

[part:gemini-3.1-flash-lite]

He stopped and turned, facing her directly. The streetlights along the Seine River outlined his silhouette clearly behind him. His face was somewhat obscured at the intersection of light and shadow, but those eyes were looking at her clearly.

"You cannot rely on my translation forever, nor can you hide behind others forever." His voice was not loud, but every word was clear, striking Choi Sulli's heart. "You must try to listen and speak for yourself, even if it's just the very beginning, stumbling words and phrases."

"Language is a tool, and even more so, a weapon. Here, you might be able to rely on translation, but what about later? What about when you return to South Korea for international events? What about going to other non-English speaking countries?"

The smile on Choi Sulli's face slowly faded, and her fingers tightened on the edge of her coat. She knew Song Tianhao was right. At the banquet, when there was no sound in her earpiece and others were speaking to her, she didn't want to experience that kind of confusion and panic a second time.

"I know..." She lowered her head, her voice muffled. "But I'm afraid of saying the wrong thing, afraid of making a fool of myself, afraid of embarrassing the company... or embarrassing you."

"So what if you say it wrong?" Song Tianhao's tone remained steady, yet carried an unquestionable strength. "This is Paris; no one here knows f(x)'s Choi Sulli. Cast off your burden as an idol, and let go of the tension of 'not being allowed to make mistakes'."

"Just treat yourself as an ordinary foreign tourist, a student trying hard to learn a language. If you say it wrong, the other person will correct you, or repeat it using simpler words. There is nothing shameful about that. If you don't dare to speak, you will never learn."

Song Tianhao's words were like a breeze, blowing away some of the fog in her heart, yet bringing new pressure, and... a faint, ignited impulse.

Just then, a young street performer carrying a guitar and holding a few handmade records walked over. His gaze swept over the three of them, finally locking onto Krystal, who looked the most fashionable and approachable, and he pitched in heavily accented English:

"Beautiful lady, authentic Parisian music, handmade, only ten euros!"

Krystal frowned, waved her hand politely but coldly, and refused in English: "No, thank you."

The performer seemed unwilling to give up and turned his target to Choi Sulli, who looked softer and seemed full of curiosity about everything around her. He turned to Choi Sulli and spoke a string of French at a faster speed, probably introducing how unique his music was and how well-crafted his records were.

Choi Sulli was stunned. Her earpiece wasn't in her ear, and Song Tianhao didn't translate immediately. She looked at Song Tianhao in a panic, her eyes filled with a plea for help.

Song Tianhao stood half a step away from her side, not speaking, just watching her quietly. In those calm eyes, there was no urging, no blame, and no intention to immediately help her out of the situation, only calm, waiting, and... a hint of encouragement.

Choi Sulli understood that look. She bit her lower lip, her fingers slightly clenched at her sides. The street performer was still talking enthusiastically and unintelligibly, pushing the record cover, which was hand-drawn with an Eiffel Tower and a heart, closer to her.

People around were looking over. Krystal was also watching her.

Choi Sulli's heart was pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, as if using all her strength, raised her head, looked at the street performer, and using French that was so stiff it sounded like reciting vocabulary words, with a distinct South Korean accent, she stammered, popping the words out one by one:

"No... thank you."

She had said it.

Although the pronunciation was awkward and the intonation strange, she had indeed said it. It was the most basic French for refusal and thanks.

The street performer was stunned for a moment, probably not expecting this Asian girl to respond in French, even if it wasn't very good. He shrugged, revealed a helpless but kind smile, said "Have a good night" in French, and turned to other passersby.

Once the performer left, Choi Sulli let out a long, long sigh of relief, as if she had just finished a difficult marathon. Then, she suddenly turned to look at Song Tianhao, her eyes incredibly bright, filled with unbelievable surprise and the joy of relief, and even a little bit of expectation waiting for praise.

Song Tianhao looked at her cheeks, which were slightly flushed from nervousness and excitement, and looked at those sparkling eyes, filled with light, reflecting only him at this moment, and finally, the corners of his mouth curved into a clear, approving arc.

He didn't say anything; he just raised his hand towards her and gave a thumbs up.

Just this simple action, an affirming look, a shallow smile.

Choi Sulli felt that at this moment, all the lights on both banks of the Seine River, all the radiance of the Iron Tower in the distance, seemed to converge on the man in front of her, and were then ignited by his simple action, turning into an even more brilliant light that shone straight into the bottom of her heart.

It made her heart race even faster than when he took off his suit to help her out at the banquet, and made her even more jubilant than when she saw the panoramic view of the Iron Tower.

This was a kind of... unparalleled sense of achievement, having broken through something and gained the affirmation of someone important. It was mixed with something softer and more palpitating that she did not want to delve into at this moment.

Krystal stood two steps behind them, watching Choi Sulli's profile, which instantly radiated a dazzling brilliance because of the President's simple gesture of affirmation, and then looked at Song Tianhao's rarely revealed, gentle brows and eyes.

The indescribable emotion that had been lingering in her heart since the banquet began, like a stone sinking to the bottom of the Seine River, slowly and silently sank down.

Krystal Jung looked away, toward the flickering lights on the other side of the river, the night color falling on her long eyelashes, casting a small, quiet shadow.

Just then, a small commotion came from not far away, mixed with a few excited exclamations with distinct South Korean accents.

"Huh? Is that... is that Choi Sulli? f(x)'s Choi Sulli?"

"Really? Is that Krystal next to her? Oh my god!"

"Who is that guy? Is he a manager? He's so handsome!"

A few young men and women who looked like South Korean international students were excitedly pointing this way, and someone had already taken out a phone to try to take a picture.

The smile on Choi Sulli's face stiffened for a moment, and she looked at Song Tianhao somewhat helplessly. Krystal also frowned, subconsciously leaning closer to Song Tianhao.

The gentle expression on Song Tianhao's face instantly vanished, and he returned to his usual calmness. He turned sideways, moved his feet slightly, and unobtrusively blocked the path between Choi Sulli and those fans, while simultaneously signaling the plainclothes bodyguards who were following them like shadows nearby.

Two bodyguards immediately stepped forward, politely but firmly blocking the fans who wanted to approach.

"Choi Sulli! Look over here!" one fan shouted unwillingly, raising their phone.

Choi Sulli subconsciously wanted to turn her head toward the sound, but her shoulder was gently embraced, and a warm, firm touch came through the suit jacket.

"Don't stop, don't look back, keep walking forward." Song Tianhao's low voice sounded in her ear, very close, carrying an unquestionable tone. His hand, which was lightly supporting her shoulder, applied a little pressure, leading her, as they walked with steady but quick steps toward the direction where the car was parked. Krystal followed immediately.

The bodyguards dutifully blocked the excited fans, explaining, "Sorry, this is a private schedule, please do not disturb."

Only after sitting in the car, isolated from the outside sight and sound, did Choi Sulli breathe a sigh of relief, but her heart was still beating rapidly because of the small commotion just now and the lingering touch on her shoulder.

The car drove smoothly away from the riverbank. Song Tianhao let go of his hand, told the driver in the front row the address of the hotel, and then looked at Choi Sulli and Krystal, who were still somewhat shaken.

"You handled it well just now; not stopping and not responding was the right thing to do." His voice had returned to its usual steadiness, carrying a tone of instruction. "Remember, in non-work situations, when recognized by fans or passersby, protecting your private space and schedule rhythm is the top priority."

"You can smile and nod to acknowledge them, but do not stop to talk, and certainly do not casually agree to take photos. This is not only for your safety but also to maintain an appropriate sense of mystery and distance. Do you understand?"

"We understand, President." Choi Sulli and Krystal nodded at the same time.

Choi Sulli quietly rubbed the shoulder that had been touched just now; it seemed to still retain a bit of warmth. She secretly raised her eyes and looked at Song Tianhao through the car's rearview mirror. He was watching the rapidly receding Parisian night view outside the window, his profile appearing calm and inscrutable in the flickering light.

Returning to the hotel suite, it was nearly midnight.

However, Choi Sulli had no intention of sleeping; the excitement had not yet completely passed. After taking a shower, she lay on the sofa in the living room wearing pajamas, holding her phone, looking over and over at the photos taken tonight.

Especially the one Krystal took, the photo of her and the President in front of the Iron Tower. She zoomed in, zoomed out, looking at her own smiling eyes in the photo, looking at the curve of the President's mouth, looking at herself wearing his suit... she couldn't look enough.

Krystal also came out after showering, wiping her hair with a towel. Seeing Choi Sulli's state, she asked casually: "Unnie, still not sleeping?"

"I'm going to sleep right away!" Choi Sulli raised her head, her eyes still sparkling. She turned the phone screen toward Krystal. "Krystal, look, you took such a good picture! You made me look good, and the President looks so handsome too!"

Krystal glanced at the phone screen, her gaze lingered on the photo for a moment, then moved away, her tone flat: "Hmm, it is quite good. Unnie, get some rest early, we still have a shoot tomorrow." After saying that, she returned to her own bedroom and closed the door.

Choi Sulli watched the door Krystal had closed, blinked, and looked back down at her phone. She opened the chat app and clicked on the chat window with Song Tianhao. His profile picture was very simple, a deep blue starry sky.

She wanted to say thank you, wanted to say today was really happy, wanted to say thank you for your encouragement, I will work hard to learn French in the future...

She typed one line after another, then felt it was too wordy and deleted it. She typed another sentence, felt it wasn't solemn enough, and deleted it again.

After repeating this several times, in the end, she only sent the simplest sentence:

"President, good night. Thank you for today."

Click, send.

She held the phone to her chest, eyes fixed on the screen, her heart beating inexplicably fast. Would he reply? It's so late, he might be resting, or working?

After waiting for a few minutes, the phone remained as quiet as before.

As expected, he's asleep. A tiny bit of disappointment flashed through Choi Sulli's heart, but she also felt it was normal. Just as she was about to get up and return to her room, the phone screen suddenly lit up, and a crisp notification sound rang out.

She grabbed her phone and unlocked it almost immediately; it was a reply from Song Tianhao.

It wasn't text, but a photo.

Looking at the angle, it was taken from a very high place, like the window of a hotel room. Paris under the night curtain, thousands of lights, the Eiffel Tower in the distance was dazzling, like a glowing golden coordinate in the night.

The photo was taken with great texture, exquisite composition, and the lighting was captured just right, freezing the romantic night view of Paris within the square of the screen.

Below it was attached a short line of text: "Good night. Well taken."

Choi Sulli looked at that photo, then looked at the group photo saved in her own phone, her heart feeling like it was stuffed full of something, soft, warm, and carrying a little bit of bittersweet palpitation.

She saved both photos and put them into the private album on her phone that required a password to open.

And in another bedroom separated by a wall.

Krystal was lying on the bed, wearing headphones, but no music was playing inside. She could vaguely hear the sound of Choi Sulli in the next room, unable to suppress her light humming, and the faint light of the phone constantly lighting up and going out reflected under the crack of the door.

She turned over, gently covered her head with a pillow, and closed her eyes.

The night was deep, the lights of Paris were still bright, and through the gaps in the curtains, they cast hazy light and shadows in the room, illuminating the smiles that unconsciously spread on the corners of some people's mouths, and also reflecting the quiet profiles of others looking at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep.