26: Chapter 26 A Cozy Mountain Cabin

Outside the counseling room, the silent embrace of the eight girls made Kim Taeyeon's tears well up once again.

She leaned on Kwon Yuri's shoulder, feeling the warmth and support radiating from her younger sisters. This long-lost sense of relaxation—that of being the "protected" rather than the "protector"—made her almost want to drown in it.

However, the newly appointed "acting leader" did not give her much time to indulge in it.

Song Tianhao walked out of the counseling room, his gaze sweeping over the group of girls with red, swollen eyes but bright gazes. His tone returned to its usual brevity: "Taeyeon is on leave for three days; her schedule is cancelled, and she is to be on radio silence.

The eight of you will continue with the originally scheduled vocal, dance foundation training, and physical recovery plans, which will be overseen by the new coaches and teachers. Meals and schedules must be strictly executed according to the nutritionist's plan."

He paused, "If you have any problems, find Chief Sehun, or come directly to me. Now, dismissed. Go do what you need to do."

"Yes, President!" the eight girls replied in unison. Although their voices were still hoarse, they were unexpectedly uniform and powerful.

They looked at each other, then glanced worriedly at Kim Taeyeon, who was still lingering in Kwon Yuri's arms. Finally, under Song Tianhao's calm gaze, they dispersed, looking back every few steps, heading to their respective rooms or the practice room. Soon, only Song Tianhao, Kim Taeyeon, and Kwon Yuri, who was still supporting Kim Taeyeon, remained in the corridor.

"Yuri, you go to the practice room too," Song Tianhao said to Kwon Yuri.

Kwon Yuri nodded, let go of Kim Taeyeon, whispered "Unnie, rest well," and quickly walked away.

Now, they were truly the only two left. Kim Taeyeon stood there, somewhat at a loss. The tear stains on her face had not yet dried, and her eyes were red and swollen, making her look exceptionally fragile. A leave... three days, completely empty. What should she do? What could she do?

"Go change into thick, warm clothes that are easy to move in. Bring toiletries and one or two pieces of clothing to wear close to your body. Don't worry about anything else," Song Tianhao said to her. "I'll give you twenty minutes. Wait for me in the living room downstairs."

He did not explain where they were going or what they were going to do.

Kim Taeyeon did not ask, either. Perhaps it was because the thorough emotional release just now had exhausted her, or perhaps it was the certainty exuded by Song Tianhao that made her unable to even think of questioning him. She just nodded silently and turned to walk toward her room.

Twenty minutes later, she had changed into a light gray fleece-lined sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, with a long down jacket over them. She carried a small backpack containing only simple changes of clothes and a toiletry bag. With a bare face and her hair tied casually into a low ponytail, she walked downstairs.

Song Tianhao was already waiting in the living room. He had also changed into a more casual dark-colored windbreaker and cargo pants, with sturdy hiking boots on his feet. Beside him was a small travel bag.

Seeing her come down, Song Tianhao didn't say anything; he simply picked up the travel bag and walked out first: "The car is at the door."

Kim Taeyeon followed silently.

The car was not the usual sedan, but a dark gray SUV with a higher chassis, more suitable for complex road conditions. Jang Se-hoon was sitting in the driver's seat.

Seeing them come out, Jang Se-hoon got out of the car and nodded at Kim Taeyeon, which counted as a greeting, then said to Song Tianhao: "President, everything has been prepared according to your instructions and is in the trunk. The gas tank is full, and the route has been checked. Driving into the mountains in this weather is fine as long as you drive slowly."

Into the mountains? Kim Taeyeon's heart stirred, but she still didn't ask.

Song Tianhao opened the back door of the car, signaling for Kim Taeyeon to get in, while he sat in the passenger seat. The car drove steadily out of the Villa area, not heading towards the bustling city center, but driving towards the distant suburbs of Seoul.

Outside the car window, the city's skyscrapers were gradually replaced by low houses and fields. Finally, the scenery on both sides of the road turned into bare hills covered with a thin layer of snow and occasionally passing forests hung with icicles. The sky was somewhat gloomy, seemingly brewing a larger snowstorm.

The car's heater was on high, and soft classical music was playing. Kim Taeyeon leaned against the comfortable backrest of the rear seat, watching the increasingly desolate scenery receding outside the window. The fatigue and tension of the past few days quietly crept up on her amidst this monotonous movement and warmth.

Without realizing it, she closed her eyes, her consciousness gradually blurring, and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, something she hadn't experienced for a long time.

I don't know how much time had passed when a slight bump in the car jolted her awake. She opened her eyes groggily and found that the car had left the main road and was driving on a narrow, winding mountain road where the snow had been cleared but was still narrow.

On both sides were tall, dense pine forests, the branches weighed down by thick snow. Occasionally, soft clumps of snow were blown off by the wind, hitting the roof of the car with a dull "thud." The air was cold and clean, carrying the scent of pine needles and snow.

After driving for about another ten minutes, the car stopped at a fork in the road. There was no longer a road ahead for vehicles, only a small path that had been trodden out leading into the depths of the dense forest. The snow on the path was very thick, and it seemed that very few people came here.

"President, we can only go this far," Jang Se-hoon said after parking the car.

"Hmm," Song Tianhao said. He unbuckled his seatbelt, got out of the car, took two travel bags from the trunk, handed one to Kim Taeyeon, and then took out two pairs of high-top snow boots and two pairs of gloves. "Put these on; the road is slippery."

Kim Taeyeon followed instructions and put on the heavy snow boots, stepping on the soft snow and making a crunching sound. She put on her small backpack and looked at the path in front of her, which seemed to lead to a secret realm. The last trace of doubt in her heart was replaced by curiosity. Where... is this?

Song Tianhao did not explain; he picked up the slightly larger travel bag and stepped onto the path first. Kim Taeyeon hurried to follow.

The path was not very long, but the snow was very thick, making it somewhat strenuous to walk. The mountain forest was extremely quiet; there was only the sound of feet treading on snow, the whimpering of the wind through the treetops, and the short, sharp calls of occasional unknown birds. The air was cold, and inhaling it brought a refreshing sensation that cleansed the heart and lungs. After walking for about fifteen minutes, the view suddenly opened up.

At the end of the path, surrounded by the forest, a small log-colored cabin suddenly appeared.

The cabin was not large and looked like it had been there for some years, but it was well-maintained. Wisps of smoke were rising from the chimney on the roof, indicating that there was someone inside, or that a fire had just been lit.

In front of the cabin was a small cleared open space, with neat firewood stacked in the corner and a simple stone fire pit nearby. Everything was simple, quiet, and isolated from the world, as if it were the dwelling of a forest elf in a fairy tale.

Is this the "secret base" the President mentioned? Kim Taeyeon was a bit surprised. She had thought it would be some secret luxury sanatorium or a high-end vacation Villa. She didn't expect it to be such a mountain cabin full of rustic charm and traces of time.

Song Tianhao walked to the door of the cabin, took out an old-fashioned brass key from his pocket, inserted it into the keyhole, and gave it a gentle twist. The door opened, and a warm air mixed with the charred scent of burning wood, the smell of old book paper, and a faint scent of dust rushed towards her.

"Come in," Song Tianhao said, stepping aside to let her enter first.

Kim Taeyeon stepped into the cabin. The interior looked more spacious than it did from the outside, and the structure was simple. Upon entering, there was an open space that served as both a living room and a dining room, with a thick, somewhat darkened wool carpet on the floor.

In the center was a fireplace built of stone, where the wood was crackling, and the leaping flames were the main source of light and heat in the room.

In front of the fireplace was a huge, seemingly soft bear-skin rug, with several dull-colored but clean cushions thrown casually on it. A large, old sofa covered with a plaid sofa cover was placed against the wall. On the other side was a heavy log dining table and two chairs.

What caught Kim Taeyeon's attention most was the large bookshelf against the other wall, stretching from the floor to the ceiling. The bookshelf was packed with various books, some new and some old, in Korean and other languages, categorized, but mostly related to music, art, history, and nature.

Next to the bookshelf was an old-fashioned gramophone with a large horn, with quite a few vinyl records piled next to it. Past the gramophone was a closed door, probably the bedroom.

The whole house had no TV, no computer, and one couldn't even see any obvious modern electronic equipment. Time seemed to have stopped here; only the firelight from the fireplace and the yellowing pages on the bookshelf recorded the flowing tranquility.

"Is this... the President's?" Kim Taeyeon couldn't help but ask, her voice sounding a bit abrupt in the quiet room.

"It belongs to a friend. He has been abroad for many years and entrusted me to come and check on it occasionally."

Song Tianhao put the travel bag by the door, walked to the fireplace, and skillfully poked the wood inside with an iron hook to make the fire burn brighter. "There is no telephone line here, and cell phone signal is intermittent; it's basically isolated from the world. Internet? Don't even think about it."

He turned around and looked at Kim Taeyeon, who was still standing at the door somewhat reservedly: "You will stay here for these days. Sleep, read books, listen to records, space out, scream at the snowy fields—whatever you want. Your only task is to recharge your own 'battery.' Can you do it?"

Kim Taeyeon looked at the leaping fire, feeling the drowsy warmth and isolated tranquility in the room. Her heart, which had been hanging and tense all along, finally fell slowly and completely, falling into a soft blanket named "safety." She nodded vigorously.

Song Tianhao seemed satisfied. He pointed to the closed door: "That's the bedroom. The bed sheets and quilt have been freshly changed, and there is a small private bathroom where you can wash up simply. Use the kettle on the stove for hot water."

"The food is in the bag; there is bread, canned food, instant food, as well as rice and simple seasonings. If you're hungry, make it yourself. You know how to use the stove, right?"

"A little..." Kim Taeyeon said softly. At the S.M. Entertainment dormitory, they occasionally cooked ramen themselves.

"Hmm. Then you figure it out. I'm staying next door; there's a small room for storing sundries that can be tidied up to sleep in." After Song Tianhao finished speaking, he didn't seem to intend to stay any longer, "I'll go out and chop some firewood first; it'll be cold at night, and the fire cannot go out."

He picked up a heavy-looking axe by the door, pushed open the door, and walked into the increasingly dense drifting snow outside.

Only Kim Taeyeon was left in the cabin, along with the crackling sound of wood burning in the fireplace. A huge, almost deafening silence wrapped around her, but this time, the silence was no longer scary; instead, it was full of healing power.

She took off her heavy down jacket, walked to the bear-skin rug in front of the fireplace, and sat down. She stretched out her hands, feeling the warmth from the flames, and watched the leaping firelight. The fatigue that had been accumulated in her limbs for a long time swept over her like a receding tide.

She didn't even have the strength to explore the room anymore. Just like that, leaning against the sofa leg by the fireplace, amidst the reassuring warmth and the scent of firewood, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Finally, her head tilted to the side, and she actually fell into a deep sleep just like that while sitting there.

The sleep was deep and dark, undisturbed by any dreams.

When she regained consciousness, the first thing she felt was the soreness and satisfaction in her muscles from such a long sleep, along with a distinct pang of hunger from her stomach.

Outside the window, the sky had turned completely dark, with only the fire in the fireplace still burning, casting a warm, flickering, golden-red glow over everything in the room.

How long had she slept?

Looking at the old-fashioned wall clock, the hour hand pointed to eight in the evening.

She had actually slept from the afternoon until night?

And so deeply that she hadn't even noticed when Song Tianhao had come in to add firewood, or when he had placed a plate of plastic-wrapped sandwiches and a glass of water on the small table nearby.

The hunger urged her on.

She picked up the simple ham sandwich and began to eat it in small bites.

The taste was ordinary, but to her starving self at that moment, it was better than any delicacy.

After finishing the sandwich and drinking the water, she felt some of her lost strength returning.

Curiosity began to revive.

She stood up, stretched her somewhat stiff limbs, and by the light of the fireplace, began to slowly look around the room.

She first walked to the massive bookshelf, her fingers brushing over rows of book spines.

The variety of books was eclectic, and just as the President had said, most of them were "leisure reading."

Her gaze suddenly stopped on a row of children's books that looked noticeably older and smaller in size.

As if guided by some unseen force, she pulled one out.

The cover featured hand-drawn forests and small animals with somewhat faded colors, and the title was "The Little Squirrel's Winter."

It was a very ordinary fairy tale book.

But when she opened the title page, she felt as if she had been struck by lightning, freezing in place instantly.

On the yellowed title page, a name and date were written in immature, shaky pencil handwriting.

"Kim Taeyeon's Book"

"Spring of 1998"

This was... her favorite fairy tale book from elementary school!

She remembered clearly that it was a gift from her father for her birthday.

Later, she lost it at some point, and she had been sad for a long time.

How could it be here?

In this log cabin deep in the mountains?

On the bookshelf belonging to the President's "friend"?

Her heart rate accelerated suddenly, and with trembling fingers, she continued to flip through the pages.

Tucked inside the pages was a small, equally yellowed color photograph.

In the photo, a little girl with pigtails, grinning so wide her eyes were barely visible, was being lifted high by a young man, with a carousel at an amusement park in the background.

It was her and her father; it was one of the few happy memories of a childhood outing with her father that she had almost forgotten.

On the back of the photo, written in the same immature handwriting, it said: "Went to the park with Dad, so happy!"

Kim Taeyeon held the book and the photo, standing blankly in front of the bookshelf, the firelight flickering on and off across her face.

A massive shock, confusion, and a complex emotion—sore yet warm, as if gently salvaged from time—overwhelmed her.

The President... how much did he actually know?

How could he possess her childhood book and photo?

Was this really a "friend's" cabin?

Countless questions swirled in her mind, but in the end, they were all softened by the real tactile sensation and memories transmitted from the book pages and photo in her hands.

She carefully tucked the photo back into the book and held the book tightly against her chest, as if holding onto a precious piece of the past that had been lost and found again.

She walked over to the old-fashioned gramophone.

The vinyl records scattered nearby were mostly classical music and old songs.

Her gaze was drawn to a CD placed on top.

It wasn't vinyl; it was a burned CD in a clear case without any commercial cover.

On the cover of the CD case was a simple, hand-drawn yellow sunflower sticker, and below it, two lines were written in black marker:

"Taeyeon Recording Studio Demo - Unreleased"

""If" - Practice Room Version"

""If""?

That was an OST demo she had recorded for a drama audition a while ago, which wasn't selected in the end for various reasons.

This demo had been kept by the company, and she had almost forgotten that this version even existed.

How could it be here?

And marked as "Unreleased"?

She picked up the CD, her fingers brushing over the rough sunflower sticker and her own familiar handwriting, and the shock in her heart reached its peak.

This place, this cabin, this bookshelf, this CD... it was as if it were a secret gallery built specifically for her, collecting the scattered fragments of her time.

And all of this clearly pointed to the man who had brought her here.

Just then, the door to the cabin was pushed open.

Song Tianhao walked in, bringing a chill with him, with unmelted snowflakes on his shoulders.

He was carrying a steaming, coarse ceramic bowl in his hands.

"Awake? Perfect, drink this."

He placed the bowl on the dining table and gestured for Kim Taeyeon to come over.

Kim Taeyeon walked over and saw that the bowl contained steaming, soft-boiled white porridge, garnished with a few pale yellow ginseng slices and finely chopped green onions, smelling delicious.

"This is..."

"Your father sent it."

Song Tianhao's tone was calm and flat; he said while taking off his snow-covered coat and hanging it behind the door, "He couldn't get through to your phone, so he called Sehun, and Sehun transferred it to me."

"Hearing that you were recuperating here, he specially made ginseng porridge and had it sent to the foot of the mountain; I just brought it up."

Father?

Kim Taeyeon's body stiffened again.

Those missed calls... porridge made by her father?

And it was sent here?

The President and her father... had they been in contact?

Song Tianhao seemed not to notice the shock and complexity on her face, and went on to pick up a spoon and stir the porridge, letting the heat dissipate more evenly: "Drink it while it's hot. Your father said you're a bit anemic and asked me to make sure you finish it."

This was said directly and with a touch of "bossiness," instantly blocking the hesitation and conflict that had just risen in Kim Taeyeon's heart about whether to contact her father.

Looking at that bowl of steaming ginseng porridge, obviously made by her father, her nose suddenly felt sore.

Father... that always silent and strict father, had actually made porridge and had it sent all the way to this deep mountain?

She sat down silently, picked up the spoon, scooped up a spoonful of porridge, blew on it, and put it in her mouth.

The warm rice porridge, mixed with the faint bitterness and lingering sweetness of the ginseng slices, slid down her esophagus, warming her all the way to her stomach, and also to a cold corner of her heart.

She drank the porridge quietly in small sips, tears falling into the bowl without warning, mixing with the porridge and being swallowed by her together.

Song Tianhao did not look at her; he walked to the fireplace, added two more pieces of wood, and then used fire tongs to rake out two charred roasted sweet potatoes from the ashes. The skins were already blackened and cracked, revealing the golden, tempting flesh inside, and a sweet, fragrant aroma instantly filled the air.

He skillfully peeled one and handed half to the silently eating Kim Taeyeon.

"When I was a child," he suddenly spoke, his voice somewhat ethereal amidst the crackling of the firewood, "when my sister... was crying or unhappy, roasting a sweet potato for her would coax her into a good mood. It worked every time."

He mentioned his "sister" again.

Kim Taeyeon took the half of the piping hot, sweet potato, remembering Kwon Yuri's earlier question and the President's answer of "I once had one."

Kim Taeyeon didn't ask any more questions, just took small bites of the sweet potato. The sweet, sticky taste melted in her mouth, mixed with the warmth of the porridge and the safe, peaceful atmosphere of the cabin, giving her an unreal feeling of floating on a warm cloud.

The day passed, in the seclusion and peace of the mountain cabin, both quickly and slowly.

Kim Taeyeon spent most of the time sleeping; when she woke up, she would read for a while, listen to the crackling classical music from the old gramophone, or just stare blankly at the snowy scenery outside the window.

Song Tianhao spent most of the day outside the house, chopping wood, clearing snow, and occasionally bringing back some mountain goods from who knows where, simply preparing them into food.

The two didn't communicate much, but the silence was not awkward; instead, it had a tacit peace.

The next day, the snow stopped, and the sky cleared.

In the afternoon, Kim Taeyeon, wrapped in a blanket, sat on the threshold of the cabin, staring blankly at the snow in the yard, which was made crystalline by the sunlight, and the icicles hanging from the branches of the distant forest.

Days of rest had brought some color back to her pale face, and the fatigue in her eyes had mostly dissipated, but she remained quiet.

Song Tianhao walked over, sat down next to her, and handed her a small MP3 player and a pair of headphones.

"Listen," he said.

Kim Taeyeon took it suspiciously, put on the headphones, and pressed the play button.

The familiar intro flowed out; it was that song, ""If"."

But soon, she noticed the difference.

This version of ""If""... was greener and more intense than the version she remembered being released, and even in some places, it was slightly off-key because the emotions were too full; the recording environment also had obvious reverberation, it was the effect of a practice room.

This was her state when she first recorded the complete demo of this song in the S.M. Entertainment practice room back then.

At that time, she poured all her passion and longing into this song, singing without reservation, even a bit clumsily and desperately.

The singing echoed in the headphones, taking her back to that pure trainee era where there was only dreams and sweat.

At that time, there was no Black Ocean, no overwhelming accusations, no heavy responsibility as a leader, no insomnia and stomach pain, only the most instinctive desire and love for the stage and singing.

The last note fell, and there was silence in the headphones.

Kim Taeyeon didn't move for a long time, just staring blankly at the sunlight on the snowy field in the distance, which made her eyes ache.

Song Tianhao took back the MP3 and turned it off.

The sound of the wind in the mountain forest and the occasional bird chirping became clear again.

"Back then," he looked at her profile illuminated by the snow light, and asked in a calm voice, "you wanted to be a singer. What about now?"

Kim Taeyeon did not answer immediately.

She looked at the distant mountains, the accumulated snow, and the tiny rainbows refracted by the sunlight on the ice crystals.

The green and desperate singing in the headphones was still echoing in her mind.

The darkness of the Black Ocean, the coldness of S.M. Entertainment, the physical fatigue, the mental pressure, the fear of the future... countless chaotic images and emotions surged into her heart, overlapping and intertwining with that pure little girl who shouted, "I want to sing."

After a long time, long enough for a snowflake to fall from the eaves and land right on her long eyelashes, instantly melting into a tiny water droplet, like a belated tear.

She then blinked extremely slowly, blinking away the moisture, and then, in a very light yet clear voice, facing the snowy scenery in front of her, and also facing a corner of her heart that had finally become clear again, she whispered, "I still do."