54: What's in Chapter 54?

Song Tianhao stopped in his tracks.

The tug on his jacket hem was light, even carrying the weakness of someone recovering from an injury, but that stubborn, ice-cold trembling felt like an invisible thread, tethering him firmly in place.

Outside the window, thunder rolled, and the lingering flash of lightning illuminated Hyomin's eyes, which were filled with terror and pleading, as well as her hand, which was gripping his hem so tightly that her knuckles were trembling.

He remained silent for two seconds, his gaze shifting from her pale face to the blood-soaked bandage on her knee, then sweeping over Park Ji-yeon, who was clutching Hyomin tightly, her own face pale and eyes teary, before finally landing on Soyeon, who was standing by the door with a complex yet worried expression.

The situation downstairs was unclear, communications were cut off, but here before him were three girls: one injured and bleeding, one in a state of extreme shock, and another who appeared calm but harbored anxiety in her eyes.

He needed to go down and take control of the situation, but leaving them alone in this room—which had just experienced a door-bashing incident and was separated from the raging storm outside by only a single window—did not seem like a wise move.

The deliberation took only a split second.

Song Tianhao sighed softly, the sigh almost imperceptible.

He did not force her hand away, but instead turned around and sat back down on the edge of the bed, right beside Hyomin.

The mattress sank slightly, bringing a sense of stability and reassurance.

"I'm not leaving," he said, his voice low but exceptionally clear amidst the gaps in the sound of the rain, carrying the certainty of a promise. "But you have to tell me, why are you so afraid?"

He didn't ask "What's wrong?" or "Are you okay?" but instead asked directly, "Why?"

Because he could tell that Hyomin's current fear far exceeded a normal reaction to darkness, injury, or the storm.

It was a state of near-collapse, triggered by deep-seated trauma.

Park Ji-yeon seemed to sense something, too; she raised her head from Hyomin's embrace and looked at her sister through tear-filled eyes.

Hyomin's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, and her hand, which was gripping his jacket hem, loosened slightly, but she still didn't let go.

She lowered her head, her long hair falling to cover half of her face.

The warm white light of the emergency lamp cast fine, dense shadows onto her trembling eyelashes.

For a moment, the room was filled only with the roar of the wind and rain outside and the faint crackling of the burning candle wick.

Soyeon also walked over slowly and sat silently at the foot of the bed, forming a small, relatively enclosed circle.

After a long while, Hyomin finally began to speak in a broken, intermittent voice, choked with sobs:

"When... when I was five, my dad got drunk and had a fierce argument with my mom... I was so scared that I hid in the storage room..."

She sniffled, big teardrops falling onto the dark bedsheets, blooming into dark water stains.

Her voice began to tremble, and her body curled up involuntarily, as if she had returned to that cold, dark, cramped space filled with the pungent smell of dust and the sounds of her parents arguing and smashing things outside.

"He... he found me and locked me inside, saying I needed to reflect on my behavior and shouldn't run around..."

"He threw the key away or lost it, and my mom couldn't find it..."

"I cried inside, shouted, pounded on the door... No one heard, or if they did, they didn't care..."

Her breathing became rapid, and the color drained from her face, as if she were suffocating.

"It was so dark in there, I couldn't see anything, only the sound of rats crawling by... and their arguing voices outside, getting further and further away..."

"I don't know how long it was—maybe a few hours, maybe the whole night..."

"Later, there was no more sound, and I didn't dare to cry anymore, so I just curled up in the corner... I felt like I had been forgotten by the whole world, and that I was going to die in there..."

She finally couldn't continue, burying her face in her palms, her shoulders trembling violently as she let out suppressed sobs.

That wasn't the restrained crying of an adult, but the collapsing wail of a soul trapped in a five-year-old child's body, facing the same darkness and helpless despair years later.

Song Tianhao listened quietly, his face expressionless, but deep within those eyes that were usually calm and waveless, some dark emotion seemed to be flowing slowly.

He had guessed there might be a reason for her fear of the dark, but he hadn't expected such a specific and cruel childhood trauma.

To be locked in a dark storage room all night by her own father because of his drunkenness and arguments... for a five-year-old child, it was nothing short of a long and desperate claustrophobic torture.

Park Ji-yeon was crying so hard she couldn't speak, just hugging her sister tighter, as if trying to dispel those lingering chills with her own small body.

Soyeon's eyes also turned red, and she pressed her lips together tightly.

As children who grew up in less-than-perfect family environments, they could understand that fear of being hurt by loved ones and being swallowed by darkness.

"Ever since then... I... I have to keep the lights on to fall asleep, even just a little bit of light is enough. After I debuted, living in the dorms, going on schedules, staying in hotels..."

Hyomin struggled to steady her breathing and looked up. Her face was streaked with tears and her eyes were red and swollen, but the collapsing trembling seemed to have lessened slightly from pouring it all out, leaving only deep exhaustion and sadness. "I always carry a nightlight in my suitcase, the dimmest kind, but there must be light."

She forced a smile that looked worse than crying, looking at Song Tianhao with self-deprecation and vulnerability in her eyes: "I didn't dare tell my manager, didn't dare tell the members... I was afraid of being called delicate, afraid of being called difficult, afraid of affecting the team's image..."

"In front of the camera, I have to be the sexy, cheerful, fearless Hyomin. But President, I'm really so afraid of the dark... When the power went out tonight, I felt like I was back in that storage room again..."

Hyomin's confession tore open the sunny, sexy facade she had meticulously maintained, exposing the bloody, old scars underneath.

This required immense courage, and it also meant that, at this moment, she viewed him as someone she could reveal this shame and vulnerability to—an object of absolute trust.

Song Tianhao did not speak immediately.

He simply reached out and, with the pads of his fingers, extremely gently wiped away the teardrops rolling down her cheeks.

His fingers were warm, and touching her cold, damp skin brought a strange sense of comfort.

Then, he took a dark blue handkerchief out of his suit pants pocket.

The handkerchief was soft in texture and carried a faint, fresh scent similar to cedar, not cologne, but more like the smell of high-end fabric softener.

In one corner of the handkerchief, two small, elegant cursive letters, "S" and "P," were delicately embroidered with thread of the same color.

He gently pressed the handkerchief against her red, swollen eyes.

"It's okay to cry," he said in a low voice, his tone gentler than ever before. "There are no cameras here, no outsiders."

Hyomin took the handkerchief and held it over her eyes; the warm fabric absorbed her tears and seemed to absorb some of her heavy pain as well.

That faint scent helped calm her chaotic nerves a little.

Just then, Park Ji-yeon, who had been holding her tightly, suddenly spoke up in a small, timid voice, thick with congestion:

"Unnie, actually... I knew."

Hyomin's body stiffened, and she pulled the handkerchief away, looking at her sister with red eyes.

Park Ji-yeon sniffled, lowering her head, not daring to look at her, her voice even quieter: "Every time you pack for a tour, you always secretly tuck your nightlight under your clothes... And in the dorms, you're always the last to turn off the lights, or you ask me to wait until you're asleep to turn them off. I... I saw it all."

Hyomin was stunned, staring blankly at Park Ji-yeon.

She thought she had hidden it well.

"Then why... why didn't you ask me?" Hyomin's voice was a bit hoarse.

Park Ji-yeon looked up, her eyes also red, but her gaze was clear: "Because Unnie didn't want to talk about it. And..."

She paused, her voice carrying a childlike seriousness and heartache, "I felt that Unnie must have gone through something very sad to be like this. I didn't want to make Unnie even sadder."

The simplest reason, the purest consideration.

Tears welled up in Hyomin's eyes again, but this time, it wasn't just pure fear and sadness; it was more about the warmth and being moved by being understood.

She reached out and pulled her sister tightly into her embrace, the two sisters weeping in each other's arms.

Song Tianhao watched the two sisters crying in each other's arms, his gaze softening for a moment.

He turned to Soyeon and said, "Soyeon, could you please go to my closet and get a thicker jacket to put over her? She has lost blood and is in shock, so don't let her catch a cold."

"Yes, President." Soyeon immediately stood up and walked toward the spacious walk-in closet at the back of the room.

Song Tianhao's clothes were hung neatly in the closet, and she quickly found a dark gray cashmere cardigan that looked thick and soft, took it out, and gently draped it over Hyomin's trembling shoulders.

The warm cashmere wrapped around her body, carrying a clean, pleasant scent, like a silent embrace.

Hyomin subconsciously wrapped the cardigan tighter around herself, soaking up that little bit of precious warmth.

Song Tianhao's phone vibrated once in his pants pocket, very slightly.

But he didn't seem to notice, or perhaps he was too busy to care at the moment.

His attention returned to the situation at hand.

Hyomin's emotions had stabilized slightly, and her wound was temporarily treated, but the situation downstairs remained unknown, communications were cut off, and the storm was still raging.

He had to go down.

Song Tianhao stood up, and this time, Hyomin did not grab his jacket hem again.

She looked up at Song Tianhao; there was still lingering fear in her eyes, but there was also a hint of trust and reliance.

"I'm going down to check on the others and make arrangements," Song Tianhao said, looking at her and Park Ji-yeon, his tone calm but unquestionable. "You two stay in this room, lock the door, and don't go anywhere."

He paused, pointing to the emergency light on the nightstand that emitted a steady white glow, and the scented candle beside it, which burned quietly and released a soothing fragrance.

"If you are scared," his voice was low and clear, carrying a strange sense of persuasion, "just look at this light. As long as the fire doesn't die and the light doesn't fade, I will definitely come back."

This sentence was like an ancient spell, and also like a solemn promise, strangely soothing the tense nerves of Park Hyomin and Park Ji-yeon.

They looked at the flickering candlelight and the steady light, then at Song Tianhao's calm and firm face, and nodded.

Park So-yeon also stood up: "President, I will go down with you."

Song Tianhao glanced at her and nodded: "Okay, stay close to me."

He picked up the high-intensity flashlight, gave one last instruction to the sisters on the bed to "take care of yourselves," and then led Park So-yeon toward the damaged door.

Before leaving, he tried to pull the damaged door shut; although the lock was broken, it could at least block some of the wind from the hallway and... other things.

However, just as he stepped out of the room and prepared to head down the dim staircase, a sudden, extremely crisp and piercing sound of glass shattering violently came from the direction of the living room downstairs!

"Crash——!!!"

Immediately after, there were screams mixed with terror from several girls, among which Im Yoona's voice was the clearest and sharpest: "Ah——! The glass! The window is broken!"

The expressions of Song Tianhao and Park So-yeon changed simultaneously.

Song Tianhao did not hesitate any longer, gave a low shout to Park So-yeon, "Follow me!", and then, holding the flashlight, rushed down the stairs in large strides.

Park So-yeon also hurriedly followed, her heart pounding wildly.

The first-floor living room was even more chaotic than before.

One of the glass panes of the huge floor-to-ceiling window had been struck by a tree branch broken by the gale or some unknown heavy object and had completely shattered, and the storm, carrying glass shards and cold rain, was pouring frantically into the room!

The carpet near the window was instantly soaked, and shards were scattered all over the floor.

The light from the emergency lamp flickered unsteadily in the wind and mist.

Im Yoona, Kwon Yuri, Choi Sooyoung, and several other Girls Generation members who had been standing closer retreated to a distance, still shaken. Im Yoona was clutching her arm, with blood seeping between her fingers, clearly scratched by the flying glass shards.

T-ara's Lee Qri and Jeon Boram were trying to use sofa cushions to block some of the wind and rain, but with little effect.

Kim Taeyeon and Jessica Jung were relatively calm and were directing others to stay away from the window area, but they could not hide their panic.

"President!" Seeing Song Tianhao come down, everyone seemed to have found their backbone.

Song Tianhao quickly scanned the scene to assess the situation.

The broken window had to be sealed immediately; otherwise, the wind and rain pouring in could further damage the electrical circuits, and the room temperature would plummet, easily leading to hypothermia.

"Sehun! Find thick plastic sheeting or a tarp! And tape! Hurry!" He shouted to Jang Se-hoon, who had also arrived at the sound.

"Yes!" Jang Se-hoon immediately took two male assistants and ran toward the storage room.

"Everyone else, stay away from the window! Go to the dining room and gather! Taeyeon, take a headcount! Check if anyone is injured!" Song Tianhao's voice remained clear and powerful amidst the wind, rain, and noise, carrying the strength to stabilize everyone's morale.

"Yoona's hand is scratched, no other obvious injuries for now!" Kim Taeyeon replied immediately, while starting to quickly count the people around her, "T-ara... Qri unnie, Boram unnie, are here.

Girls Generation... me, Jessica, Sunny, Tiffany, Hyoyeon, Yuri, Sooyoung, Yoona, Seohyun... all here." She counted quickly, but after finishing, her brows immediately furrowed, her gaze swept over the crowd again, and her face turned slightly pale.

"President..." She looked at Song Tianhao, her voice trembling slightly, "T-ara... is missing one. Eunjung unnie... is not here."

Park So-yeon's heart sank sharply. Earlier upstairs, she had vaguely felt that someone was missing, but because she was worried about Hyomin and Park Ji-yeon, she hadn't thought about it in detail. Now that Kim Taeyeon pointed it out, a sense of foreboding instantly gripped her.

"Eunjung? Where was she just now?" Song Tianhao looked at the T-ara members.

Jeon Boram said anxiously: "Just now, when the power went out and it was chaotic, Eunjung said her phone was running out of battery, and her power bank was in the room on the second floor, so she wanted to go up and get it... then she went upstairs... and hasn't come down since!"

"How long has it been?" Song Tianhao's voice turned cold.

"At, at least ten or twenty minutes..." Lee Qri's voice was also trembling.

The second floor? Going upstairs alone in that kind of darkness and chaos earlier? And not coming down for so long?

Park So-yeon's face instantly turned paler than paper. She remembered that earlier, between the second and third floors, she seemed to have vaguely heard some unusual movement, but at the time her attention was on Hyomin and Song Tianhao's actions, so she didn't investigate further...

"Bang——!"

Just at this moment, from the direction of the second floor, a muffled sound was vaguely heard, like the sound of a heavy object falling to the ground. It wasn't loud, but in the living room that had been relatively quiet for a moment, it was clear enough to make one's hair stand on end.

Everyone held their breath.

Park So-yeon looked sharply at Song Tianhao, her eyes filled with fear.

Song Tianhao's gaze instantly turned sharp as a knife. He shoved the high-intensity flashlight in his hand into Kim Taeyeon's hand and issued orders at a rapid pace: "Take everyone and move to the basement immediately! That structure is the strongest! Count to one hundred, if Eunjung and I haven't come down..."

He paused, looking at Kim Taeyeon's instantly widened eyes, and said clearly and coldly, word by word: "Then you take everyone, lock the basement door, and no matter what sounds you hear, do not come out. Wait for rescue, or wait until the storm passes."

"President!" Kim Taeyeon cried out, subconsciously wanting to grab him.

But Song Tianhao had already turned around, like a cheetah ready to spring, rushing toward the stairs leading to the second floor with astonishing speed. His figure quickly disappeared into the darkness at the corner of the staircase, with only the sound of rapid and steady footsteps echoing in everyone's hearts.

Park So-yeon, without thinking, wanted to follow him, but was held back tightly by Lee Qri and Jeon Boram beside her.

"So-yeon! Don't go! President told us to go to the basement!" Lee Qri's voice was filled with a crying tone.

"But Eunjung..." Park So-yeon struggled, her eyes fixed on that dark staircase entrance.

"Trust the President!" Jeon Boram hugged her tightly, her voice also trembling, but carrying a forced firmness.

Kim Taeyeon gripped the heavy flashlight, looked at the direction where Song Tianhao had disappeared, and then at the terrified members around her, gritted her teeth, and forced herself to calm down.

She began to direct: "Quick! Listen to the President! Everyone, follow me to the basement! Quick!"

Jang Se-hoon had also found plastic sheeting and tape and started working with the assistants to desperately seal the broken window, but the wind and rain were too strong, and progress was slow.

Meanwhile, Song Tianhao had already rushed up to the second floor.

The second-floor hallway was darker than the third floor, with only the occasional lightning from outside the distant window providing a fleeting, ghastly white light. The wind whistled in the hallway, causing the decorative picture frames on the walls to click softly, adding a few more degrees of eeriness.

"Ham Eunjung!" Song Tianhao shouted, his voice echoing in the empty hallway, without any response.

He raised the high-intensity flashlight he had taken back from Kim Taeyeon, the bright beam of light piercing the darkness like a sharp sword, quickly sweeping across the closed doors on both sides of the hallway.

Nothing unusual.

He walked quickly forward along the hallway, while listening intently. Besides the sound of the wind and rain and his own heartbeat and footsteps, it seemed... there was also a trace of an extremely faint, irregular scratching sound coming from a direction near the stairs at the end of the hallway.

His heart sank. That direction... seemed to be the utility room and the backup small stairwell.

He quickened his pace, the flashlight beam locked firmly on the front.

Just as the beam of light swept over the doorway of the utility room, he stopped abruptly.

Under the flashlight's beam, a slender figure lay face down, motionless at the open doorway of the utility room. Dark, long hair was scattered messily, covering part of her cheek.

She was wearing thin pajamas and was barefoot. Beside her body, a power bank had rolled onto the floor, its indicator light flickering faintly with a red glow.

It was Ham Eunjung.

And in front of the position where she had fallen, the door to the utility room was ajar, it was pitch black inside, and that faint scratching sound seemed to be coming from the gap in the door.

Song Tianhao's heartbeat skipped a beat, but his calmness allowed him to react immediately. He lunged forward, crouched down, and carefully turned Ham Eunjung's body over.

Her face was as pale as paper, her eyes tightly closed, and near her hairline on her forehead, there was a visible wound, with blood gushing out, staining half of her cheek and her scattered hair red. The wound was not particularly deep, but the bleeding was significant. Her breathing was very weak, but it was still there.

Song Tianhao quickly checked her carotid artery and pupil reaction, confirming that she was only unconscious and her vital signs were temporarily stable. He tore off the hem of his shirt and quickly applied pressure to her wound to stop the bleeding.

Then, his gaze, like a falcon's, shot toward that ajar utility room door.

What... was inside there?