175: Chapter 175 Having Breakfast with Choi Sulli

The early morning in Paris, sunlight filtered through the mist, dyeing the Seine River in a layer of pale gold. Choi Sulli woke up very early.

Or rather, she had barely slept soundly. It was as if a little person was dancing in her mind, repeatedly playing the scene in the hallway last night: the way he opened the door wearing his pajamas, the warmth of his fingertips when he handed her the charger, and that sentence, "Nine o'clock, first-floor restaurant. Be on time."

These few words seemed to carry magic, making the corners of her mouth lift uncontrollably when she opened her eyes in the darkness.

Choi Sulli got out of bed on tiptoes, afraid of waking Krystal next door. She walked into the bathroom and carefully examined herself in the mirror. Lack of sleep left a faint blue tint under her eyes, but her spirit was exceptionally excited.

She washed her face carefully, applied a quick-hydration mask, and then began to put on makeup. It was much lighter than her usual photoshoot makeup, but much more refined than a bare face. The foundation had to be thin and light, the eyeliner was only applied to the inner lash line to make her eyes look bright, her eyelashes were brushed so they were clearly defined, the blush chosen was the most natural peach color, and the lipstick was a gentle bean-paste pink.

She carefully combed her hair smooth, tied it into a loose low ponytail at the back of her head, and left a few strands of hair at her temples, looking casual and fresh.

Choi Sulli opened her suitcase to pick out clothes.

Usually, in private, she preferred loose and comfortable sweatshirts and jeans, but today... Her fingers swept over piece after piece of clothing, and she finally chose an off-white knitted dress. The length was just above her knees, the cut was fitted but not tight, and she paired it with a light gray cardigan on the outside.

Choi Sulli turned around in front of the mirror, the hem of her skirt lifting in a soft arc.

Hmm, it looked neither too deliberate nor too plain; it was just right.

Dressed and ready, she gently pulled open the room door. The living room was very quiet, and the door to Krystal's bedroom was still closed. Choi Sulli checked the time: 8:20. She hesitated for a moment, walked to Krystal's door, and tapped gently.

"Krystal? Are you awake? We have an appointment with President Song to have breakfast at nine."

It was quiet inside for a few seconds, and then came Krystal's somewhat slurred voice, carrying the nasal tone of someone who had just woken up: "Got it. You go ahead, I'll come after I get ready."

"Okay, then I'll go down and wait for you." Choi Sulli didn't think much of it, put on a small chain bag, and stepped out lightly.

The restaurant on the first floor of the hotel was in a classic European style, with high domes, huge crystal chandeliers, and a whole row of floor-to-ceiling windows by the window, offering a panoramic view of the hotel's inner courtyard garden and the distant Paris streetscape.

The air was filled with the aroma of coffee, toast, and grilled bacon, and soft classical music flowed through the spacious room. At this time, there were not many guests dining; they were scattered in twos and threes, talking in low voices.

Choi Sulli found a four-person table by the window and sat down. A waiter quickly brought the menu and ice water. She nervously smoothed her skirt, her gaze involuntarily drifting toward the restaurant entrance.

8:50 AM. She took small sips of the ice water, the cold temperature helping to calm her heartbeat slightly.

8:55 AM. She took out her phone, pretending to read messages, though the screen was actually locked the whole time.

8:58 AM. The light at the restaurant entrance was blocked for a moment by a tall figure, and Choi Sulli immediately looked up.

Song Tianhao walked in.

He had changed out of his pajamas from last night, wearing a well-tailored dark gray casual suit with a simple white T-shirt underneath. He wasn't wearing a tie, and overall, he looked a bit less stern than when he was working yesterday, with more of a casual elegance.

Song Tianhao's hair was combed meticulously, his face showed no signs of fatigue, his eyes were clear and sharp, and his stride was steady.

He seemed to spot Choi Sulli sitting by the window at a glance and walked straight over.

Choi Sulli quickly stood up and bowed slightly, feeling a bit awkward: "President Song, good morning."

"Morning." Song Tianhao sat down in the seat opposite her and signaled to the waiter. The waiter immediately stepped forward and poured him a glass of lemon water. "Just you? Where is Krystal?"

"Krystal said she would be down soon and told me to come wait for you first." Choi Sulli sat back down, placing her hands on her knees, her fingertips curling slightly.

Song Tianhao nodded, didn't ask further, and picked up the menu to browse. "Have you had a French breakfast before?"

"No... I haven't had one formally." Choi Sulli answered honestly. She mostly had meals provided during activities or team dinners in South Korea; this kind of à la carte French breakfast in a high-end hotel restaurant was indeed a first.

"The croissants are good, the orange juice here is freshly squeezed, and the yogurt is also very authentic." Song Tianhao's gaze swept over the menu, and he recommended in a flat tone, "You can try the combination of croissant with yogurt and fruit; it won't be too heavy."

"Okay, I'll listen to President Song." Choi Sulli nodded immediately, like an obedient little rabbit.

Song Tianhao looked up at her, seemingly finding her "I'll listen to everything you say" demeanor a bit amusing, but he didn't say anything. He raised his hand to signal the waiter over and placed the order in fluent French.

Choi Sulli only understood a few words, but seeing his composed manner, the slight upward curve of his lips when talking to the waiter, and the waiter's respectful nodding, the feeling of admiration in her heart—that "President Song is so amazing"—bubbled up again.

After ordering, the waiter left. Only the two of them were left at the table, along with the bright yet not scorching morning sunlight of Paris streaming in from the window.

The air was quiet for a few seconds. There were only the faint sounds of knives and forks clinking against cups and plates in the distance, and the melodious music.

Choi Sulli felt she should say something; she couldn't just sit there. She cleared her throat and tried hard to find a topic: "President Song... did you rest well last night?"

"It was alright." Song Tianhao picked up the lemon water and took a sip. His gaze landed on her face, and he paused for a moment, "Your dark circles are a bit heavy. Didn't you sleep well?"

Choi Sulli panicked inside and subconsciously raised her hand to touch under her eyes: "Ah... is, is that so? Maybe I'm a bit sensitive to sleeping in new beds..." She wouldn't admit that she was too excited to sleep.

"There is a street photoshoot this afternoon, pay attention to your condition." Song Tianhao's tone wasn't harsh; it even carried a hint of casual advice, "The camera doesn't lie."

"Yes, I will pay attention!" Choi Sulli immediately promised, then thought of something, and her eyes brightened: "President Song, yesterday... thank you. If you hadn't taught me that method, I might still not have found the feeling."

"It's because you grasped it quickly." Song Tianhao put down the water glass, his tone still flat, "Actors need empathy, but they also need technique. What you lack is not the ability to empathize, but the technique to effectively convey emotions to the camera. Lucas is not a director; he won't spend too much time guiding actors. You need to learn to mobilize and express yourself."

"Yes! I'll remember that!" Choi Sulli nodded vigorously, like a good student taking notes in class. She looked at Song Tianhao and gathered the courage to ask again: "Then... President Song, do you think my performance later yesterday was okay? I mean, the set at the subway station..."

"There was progress." Song Tianhao gave a concise evaluation, "There started to be something in your eyes. But it still wasn't natural enough; in some places, you could still see traces of 'acting'. Relax, treat yourself as that person, instead of 'playing' that person."

"Yes..." Choi Sulli humbly accepted the instruction, though her heart was sweet because of that phrase "there was progress." She thought for a moment and found another topic: "President Song, did you... study acting before? Or did you learn how to teach others to act?"

Song Tianhao looked at her curious eyes, was silent for a moment, and then spoke: "When you see enough, you naturally understand. In this industry, many times it's not about being taught, but about observation and realization."

This sounded a bit vague, but Choi Sulli automatically interpreted it as "President Song is experienced and knowledgeable," and the admiration in her eyes grew stronger.

At this moment, the waiter brought the breakfast. Choi Sulli had the croissant, yogurt with fresh berries, and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice that Song Tianhao had recommended. Song Tianhao had an Eggs Benedict with smoked salmon and a cup of black coffee.

The croissant was baked golden and crispy, emitting a rich buttery aroma. Choi Sulli carefully cut it open with a knife and fork; the inside had distinct layers, and steam carrying the aroma wafted out. She took a bite, and her eyes squinted in happiness: "So delicious!"

Song Tianhao watched her unmasked expression of satisfaction, and the corners of his mouth seemed to curve up imperceptibly—very faintly, almost invisible. "As long as you like it."

The two began to eat quietly. Choi Sulli ate the croissant in small bites, stealing glances at Song Tianhao opposite her from time to time.

He ate very elegantly, not fast, but very composed. When he cut the Eggs Benedict, the yolk flowed out, and he dipped the perfectly toasted English muffin into it, his movements natural and smooth. When drinking coffee, he only took gentle sips, not making any sound.

The sunlight shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows, outlining a golden contour on him, making his sharp-featured profile look a bit softer. As Choi Sulli watched, her heartbeat became uncontrollable again.

She quickly lowered her head, poked the blueberries on her plate with a fork, and tried to find another topic: "President Song, this photoshoot... about how many more days will we stay in Paris?"

"It depends on the progress. The street photoshoot this afternoon is the last set for the print part. If all goes well, tomorrow we can arrange for you to have a free day in Paris, and the flight back to Seoul is the afternoon after tomorrow." Song Tianhao cut the salmon on his plate and answered without looking up.

"A free day?" Choi Sulli's eyes brightened again, "Then... can we go visit The Louvre Museum? Or take a boat on the Seine River?"

"Arrange the itinerary yourself, pay attention to safety, and keep in touch." Song Tianhao looked up at her, "Have your assistant follow you."

"Yes!" Choi Sulli happily agreed, already calculating in her heart where she wanted to go. Who to go with? Of course with Krystal... Wait, why hasn't Krystal come down yet?

She checked the time; it was already 9:15. She looked at the restaurant entrance again, but still didn't see Krystal's figure.

"President Song, I'll call Krystal." Choi Sulli said somewhat embarrassed, took out her phone, and dialed Krystal's number.

The phone rang a few times before it was answered.

"Krystal? Why haven't you come down yet? The breakfast is almost cold." Choi Sulli asked in a low voice.

There was a silence on the other end of the phone before Krystal's voice came through, a bit deeper than usual and lacking spirit: "...I don't feel very well, I won't eat. You guys go ahead."

"Not feeling well?" Choi Sulli immediately became worried, "What's wrong? Where are you uncomfortable? Is it serious? Do you need me to go buy you some medicine?"

"No need, I'm just a bit tired and want to sleep a little longer." Krystal's voice sounded a bit exhausted, also carrying a hint of imperceptible aloofness, "You guys go ahead, don't worry about me."

"But..."

"I'm really fine, I'll be fine after a nap. Bye." Krystal finished and, without waiting for Choi Sulli to say anything more, hung up the phone.

Listening to the busy signal from the phone, Choi Sulli was stunned for a moment, then looked at Song Tianhao with some concern: "President Song, Krystal said she isn't feeling well and won't be coming for breakfast."

Song Tianhao's action of drinking coffee paused, and he put down the cup: "What's going on?"

"She said she's just a bit tired and wants to sleep." Choi Sulli frowned, "But she was fine when the photoshoot ended yesterday. Did she catch a draft yesterday? Or is it the jet lag?"

Song Tianhao didn't speak; he raised his hand to signal the waiter nearby to come over.

"Sir, is there anything I can help you with?" The waiter asked respectfully.

"Please prepare a light breakfast and a cup of hot milk, and deliver it to room 1207." Song Tianhao instructed in French, "Just say it was ordered by a lady with the surname Choi."

"Certainly, sir, I will arrange it immediately." The waiter nodded, noted it down, and turned to prepare it.

Choi Sulli watched Song Tianhao, and the small sense of disappointment in her heart due to Krystal's absence was instantly replaced by a more complex emotion—it was relief, but also a deeper palpitation. He was always like this; seemingly indifferent, but thoughtful and meticulous in his actions, silently taking care of everyone in such small matters.

"Thank you, President Song." She said softly.

"Eat first." Song Tianhao signaled her to continue eating.

Just as the two picked up their knives and forks again, a middle-aged woman in a well-fitting suit and exquisite makeup walked toward their table. Choi Sulli recognized her as one of the PR managers for the collaborating brand in Paris, a capable Korean-American lady surnamed Kim.

"President Song, good morning. Ms. Choi Sulli, good morning." Chief Kim had a professional smile on her face, her attitude respectful but not sycophantic.

"Chief Kim, morning." Song Tianhao nodded at her.

"Sorry to interrupt your meal." Chief Kim stood by the table, her gaze lingering on Choi Sulli's face for a moment, and her smile deepened, "Ms. Choi Sulli's photoshoot yesterday afternoon was outstanding; the director couldn't stop praising it, and our headquarters were also very satisfied after seeing the sample photos."

"Thank you, it was the director's good guidance." Choi Sulli hurriedly put down her knife and fork and responded politely.

"It's because Sulli herself has good intuition." Song Tianhao took over the conversation, his tone flat, "Chief Kim, do you have something to discuss?"

"Yes, President Song." Chief Kim restrained her smile a bit and said seriously, "It's like this: our brand has always collaborated with several independent designers with whom we have close relationships in Paris. This afternoon, one of these designers' studios is holding a small-scale internal tour and exchange meeting. It's a very rare opportunity, usually only inviting top buyers, fashion editors, and a few VIP clients. We have two spots here; they were originally arranged for two executives from the headquarters, but one of them had something come up at the last minute and can't make it. I wonder if President Song and Ms. Choi Sulli would be interested in attending this afternoon?"

An independent designer's studio tour? And an internal exchange meeting? Choi Sulli's heart skipped a beat. For a rookie idol like her, this was simply an opportunity that fell from the sky! Being able to come into contact with the core resources of the real Paris fashion circle, to see the working state and the latest works of a top designer—even if it was just a visit—would have huge benefits for broadening her horizons and improving her fashion taste.

This kind of opportunity was usually only available to top actors or supermodels. She subconsciously looked at Song Tianhao, her eyes full of anticipation, but she didn't dare to show it too obviously, only quietly gripping her fork tighter with her fingers.