Chapter Ninety-Seven: A Quiet Life

The prize had already been awarded three days earlier, and after returning from the festival, things went exactly as Li Ran had expected: to everyone’s surprise, the media did not report it. Perhaps they felt the news was not worth covering, not sensational enough to outshine what had come before. Perhaps someone had deliberately suppressed it; with a little effort from the major broadcasters and newspapers, it would not have been difficult. Perhaps it was simply because the winner was Jiang Yihan, a Chinese man. In any case, there were only a handful of mentions in the Korean press. The internet did report it, but there was little reaction. Maybe people had paid no attention to the festival, maybe they had paid no attention to Jiang Yihan, or maybe they had noticed and chosen to pretend they had not.

Chinese media, on the other hand, had been in an uproar.

So, for Jiang Yihan, living in Korea, life returned to calm. Utter calm. In his own words: life must go on; this is what life is like now, so let it be like this. Perhaps, in the future, life would present another chance, and when that time came, he would simply have to seize it. Winning the award had been an accident. It was certainly a tremendous encouragement to Jiang Yihan, and it had thrilled the film’s production team as well, but what mattered most was that life still had to continue.

Jiang Yihan felt deeply apologetic toward Li Tong. Li Tong had placed all his hopes on him, only to end up with this result.

“Uncle Li, let’s end the contract. There are still six months left. I can give you some compensation for the termination, and that should help the company a lot.”

“Yihan, what nonsense are you talking?” Li Tong said sternly. “In the year and a half since you came to our company, you’ve brought in profits more than you even realize. Most of our debt has already been paid off, and our reserve of trainees keeps growing; many of them are ready to debut. Trust me, the company will recover.”

“But Uncle Li, I heard that because of me the company’s stock has fallen a great deal. If we do not stop the decline now, we might even be bought out. So let’s end my contract. At the very least, it may help restore some of the company’s reputation and should be good for the stock,” Jiang Yihan said stubbornly.

“Yihan, your success before already drove the company’s stock up so high. Should we separate now just because it has fallen? If I agreed with you, would that not make me into an ungrateful man? Absolutely impossible!” Li Tong refused him without hesitation.

It was true. Because of Jiang Yihan’s astonishing success, much of ABC’s business had become tied to him; glory and ruin had become one. The company’s situation was not quite as good as Li Tong described, but as he said, leaving Jiang Yihan at this moment would absolutely not be a wise choice.

Since the matter broke, the major Korean agency MS had been repeatedly negotiating with Li Ran, trying to poach the two of them together. Li Ran had even discussed the issue with Li Tong: did the company need the signing bonus from MS to get through this difficult period? If it did, Li Ran was willing to speak with Jiang Yihan. But Li Tong had refused just as firmly. To him, the goodwill and benefits Li Ran and Jiang Yihan had brought over the past year and a half were too great; he could not betray them. And so MS’s poaching plan remained stalled.

For Li Ran, the center of his life was now his home, but the thing that kept him busiest was organizing Rising Sun. The group had already reached a remarkable level of popularity in Japan. Over the past year, their main focus had been the Japanese market, and the beginning had been difficult, but their efforts had now borne substantial fruit. Meanwhile, in Korea, the uproar over their company transfer had gradually subsided. It was time to rebuild their presence in the home market. Li Ran was planning to push Rising Sun in both directions at once, hoping to lift their popularity to an even higher level.

As for Kim Jae-joong, he was terribly anxious about Jiang Yihan’s situation. He was distressed and tense, yet there was nothing he could do to help. He had suddenly realized that while people are often powerful, they are even more often small and helpless, and that feeling of helplessness can leave a person with an endless sense of loss.

Beyond the production company and the television stations, many entertainers were simply continuing their own lives and moving forward. Most audiences were forgetful; one Jiang Yihan left and another new face rose up. The entertainment world would never lack fresh blood. No one wished to be cast aside, so everyone could only keep striving. Among those who still paused in their work to pay attention to Jiang Yihan were only Lee Hyo-ri and Kang Ho-dong.

“Yihan, want to go for a walk in the park today?” Lee Hyo-ri’s call came as expected.

“Heh, a walk? I’m not afraid, but aren’t you, Sister Hyo-ri, afraid of being followed by the reporters? Haha.”

Jiang Yihan was in a much better mood now. These rare days of rest actually made him feel rather content. “I’m home playing chess with Yiyi. Want to come over too, Sister Hyo-ri? Heh.”

“All right, then wait for me. I’ll stop by the market and buy some vegetables first. You’re cooking lunch, okay?” Lee Hyo-ri laid out her plan with practiced familiarity, clearly meaning this was not the first time.

“All right, all right, no problem. Buy whatever you want to eat today. I’ll be waiting,” Jiang Yihan said with a laugh before hanging up.

Not long after, Lee Hyo-ri was sitting in Jiang Yihan’s living room, locked in fierce battle with Jiang Ziyi over the chessboard, the two of them shouting and laughing with lively abandon.

Jiang Yihan sat beside them, watching their happiness with quiet satisfaction.

Lately, everyone had worried about him; Jiang Yihan knew that. But in truth, he was fine. He only needed time to calm himself.

The succession of events had come too many, too heavy, all at once, leaving no room to breathe. For months, Jiang Yihan’s body and spirit had been exhausted. He needed time.

Once his heart had settled, he would sit on the balcony and look at the clear blue sky, so clean it seemed unreal, the sunlight a little dazzling yet warm. The weather in early summer was both hot and pleasantly cool. The park nearby had become a place he often visited; he would play with the children there, or sit on the grass and spend an afternoon with a book. Sometimes, on the balcony, he would make coffee with Yiyi and Sister Hyo-ri while listening to music, and life seemed to amount to no more than that. Only after his heart had grown quiet did Jiang Yihan gradually recover the charm that belonged to him: his smiles came more often, and the light in his eyes shone again with irresistible appeal.

Carrying a burden on one’s back requires immense endurance; throwing it away requires even greater courage. With everyone’s help, Jiang Yihan had finally managed to cast off the burdens of these past months.

At the other end of the phone line, Zhou Bing also put down the heart she had been holding so tightly.

A peaceful life. That was Jiang Yihan’s mood now.

Smiling, he went into the kitchen to prepare lunch for Sister Hyo-ri and Yiyi. Sunlight and laughter filled the living room, making one feel cheerful.

With a schoolbag on his back, he returned to ordinary life. Jiang Yihan still went to campus. Before, he had worn a cap when he went out; now he went without makeup, without concealment, living entirely as himself. People by the roadside often pointed him out, but Jiang Yihan only kept smiling, upright and unashamed. His calm confidence gradually reduced the pointing fingers.

On the way to school, he laughed boldly and played freely with Yoon Yun-ah and Kim So-seo. In class, he secretly dozed off, and occasionally skipped a lecture; when he was caught, he would stick out his tongue and return gloomily to the classroom. After class, he would go with a few friends to a street snack stall and eat spicy rice cakes, laughing happily. School life did not seem so bad after all.

“Yihan, so many things have happened lately. Are you all right?”

Professor Shin Seong-gyun, who had always taken such good care of Jiang Yihan, still looked upon this student with great fondness. He had always believed in Jiang Yihan, in his own eyes as well as his own judgment.

“Heh, Professor Shin, I’m okay,” Jiang Yihan said, his smile bright once more, putting the professor at ease. “It’s just that you worked so hard back then to build a good relationship with the legal affairs department so I could go on stage smoothly, and now I feel I’ve let down all your trouble. Heh.”

“You brat, now you’re teasing your teacher? Really, no respect at all,” Professor Shin said, though he too was smiling. “So, what are your plans for the future?”

“The future? I’m thinking about that now,” Jiang Yihan said, curling his lips. “If the media can clear my name, going back to that world is not impossible. After all, I was there for so long, and I still have some thoughts about it. But if not, becoming a reporter would be pretty good too. Our major is excellent, you know, heh.”

“That’s true. Whatever you do in your own field would suit you well,” Professor Shin said. He knew Jiang Yihan’s studies well and knew he was an outstanding student. “But if you go back to that world, are you sure you’re prepared mentally? There are far fewer people gossiping about you at school now, but once people make up their minds about someone, it is very hard to change them.”

“I know. I’ve been attending classes for so long now, and I’ve heard all the gossip about myself. I’m used to it.” Jiang Yihan’s smile had grown somewhat distant. “If I go back, I don’t dare expect much. I only hope to be myself. I feel that having my own music recognized is truly something happy. Earlier this year, when I sang live, everyone sang along with me to Can I Love You?—it was so moving it made people want to cry. I only want to find that feeling of belonging to me again. I also know how hard it is to win trust, so I won’t expect too much. If you don’t expect, you won’t be hurt, right?”

Looking at Jiang Yihan’s calm smile, Professor Shin also understood how difficult it is to regain trust once it has been lost. Perhaps the audience felt they no longer trusted Jiang Yihan, and that it would be very hard for him to reshape his image. But for Jiang Yihan, it was the same: the audience had lost his trust as well, and he would no longer trust those so-called fans. Perhaps the one who was hurt was not Jiang Yihan alone.

“Yihan, as your teacher, I only hope that whichever path you choose, whatever you do, you can make yourself happy. That is enough.”

Professor Shin’s concern made Jiang Yihan smile brilliantly, warm and captivating as always.

Coming to the orphanage was also part of Jiang Yihan’s peaceful life. Being with children is the purest, most direct moment; there is nothing to hide, nothing to fear. You only need to laugh, only need to cry, and that is enough.

“It’s a surprise to see you here.”

The girl Jiang Yihan had met several times before—Mina Sun-yi—had a clean, neighborly smile.

“Why is that a surprise?” Jiang Yihan asked, laughing happily. He had just finished playing games with the children and felt wonderfully relaxed.

“I thought you’d be hiding at home and feeling sad, heh.” Mina Sun-yi blinked mischievously.

“Haha, then right now I should have rabbit eyes,” Jiang Yihan said, squeezing his own eyes into a rabbit-like expression, which made Mina Sun-yi laugh.

“I’m surprised you can keep such a state of mind,” Mina Sun-yi said as she sat down, admiration in her voice. “As an outsider, I can see how much of the news was watered down. A lot of people were simply blinded by the media and followed along with it. But no matter what, the uproar was frightening. Watching from the side, even I thought it was terrifying. As the person at the center of it, the pressure on you must have been far greater. The matter still hasn’t settled down either. There are still posts about you everywhere online, and they’re startling enough to give anyone pause. So seeing you smile so naturally, so happily, is a bit of a surprise.”

“Heh, if I said I didn’t care at all, that would be impossible. Everything about it was false, a complete smear against me. Of course I’m angry. What I’m doing now is simply being myself.”

Jiang Yihan smiled. “I can’t control what others think or how they feel. The only thing I can do is live well as myself. After all, my life still has to go on, doesn’t it? Heh.”

“These past few months, I’ve realized that facing hardship is truly difficult and painful, but as long as there is someone who believes in you, you can keep going. Trust is such a strange thing; it has this inexplicable power that helps people steady their hearts.”

There was more remembrance in Jiang Yihan’s smile now. “Even though there are so, so many people against me, there are still some around me who believe in me, and their trust is given to me. My persistence, my efforts—as long as they believe in them, that is enough. So there is no wall that cannot be climbed over, right?”

Looking at Jiang Yihan’s smile, Mina Sun-yi suddenly felt that a smile formed through hardship and tempering possessed an unmistakable firmness. She looked at Jiang Yihan, then at the open sky overhead. Indeed, there is no wall that cannot be climbed over, is there?

Lately, life had been so comfortable that Jiang Yihan actually felt a little unreal, as if the events of the previous period had merely been a dream, an unreal dream. Perhaps even everything since his debut had been a dream. Now the dream had simply ended, and everything had returned to its beginning.

Looking at the joyful G-Dragon before him, Jiang Yihan suddenly realized that perhaps the dream had been real after all.

“Hyung, maybe I’ll be able to debut very soon.”

The smile on G-Dragon’s face told Jiang Yihan that the dream was indeed real.

“Really? Has the debut plan been finalized?”

“Mm. Next week, after the final evaluation, our team will be announced, and then the debut date should be set.” At this moment, G-Dragon’s excitement made him look just like a child. Jiang Ziyi beside him was also very happy; after all, this was the best news they had heard in this gloomy stretch of time.

“A team? How many people are there? Has the group’s style been decided?”

“I don’t know yet—four or five, maybe. They’re still selecting members. I’ve trained for seven years, and I can finally debut. I’m really so happy. Our team is definitely going to be hip-hop. My rap is amazing, you know.”

G-Dragon kept talking nonstop, spreading his happiness to everyone around him.

Jiang Yihan’s smile also let everyone know that he was quite satisfied with his current peaceful life. But how long could this peace possibly last?