Chapter 35: Let Me Tell You a Story

"A scandal between a top-tier female idol and a chaebol heir—doesn't that sound even more intriguing than an idol dating an actor?"

"If I were the editor-in-chief of Dispatch, I'd give this story a full spread and follow it up with reporting for an entire week."

Manager Lee curled his lips in triumph, as if narrating a magnificent and thrilling tale. At the height of his excitement, he even waved his arms gently.

"Family vendettas, power struggles, an idol and an heir... with all these elements combined, it would be a smash hit if adapted into a Netflix series."

"When the entire nation is fixated on this story, we’ll schedule a comeback. The level of attention and buzz will be unprecedented."

Yoo Jimin looked down at the document Manager Lee had handed her, remaining silent for a long time.

The document, which Dispatch had provided along with three photographs, was filled with information about the man in the pictures.

So... Manager Lee had known his identity all along and had been involved in orchestrating this story from the start.

Peninsula International, a conglomerate with interests in food, finance, and publishing, held a level of influence within Korea that, while not quite on the level of Samsung—often compared to "taxes and death"—still touched every aspect of the average person's life.

From beverages to music copyright distribution, from financial lending to real estate development... Peninsula International had always maintained a low profile, but the power they wielded was far beyond what a small-to-medium enterprise like SM Entertainment could compare to.

Yet, the founder of Peninsula International, Xia Xuhe, was notoriously reclusive. The outside world knew very little about him, let alone his family members.

But Dispatch was, after all, Dispatch. When a story with the potential to capture massive national attention appeared, they swarmed like wolves catching the scent of prey. In just one day, through various channels, they had pieced together information about Xia Xing:

He was born in China on February 2, 2000. His original name was Lin Xingcan. His biological mother was Xia Xuhe’s third daughter, Xia Yingzhi, and his father, Lin Yuan, was an architect who had since become somewhat well-known in East Asia.

Xia Yingzhi had met Lin Yuan while studying abroad in China. Rebellious at the time, she had defied her family's objections, choosing to abandon her affluent life in Korea to be with Lin Yuan, who was just a poor boy back then.

However, around 2006 to 2008, when Lin Yuan was still unknown and earning a meager salary at a firm—even when combined with Xia Yingzhi's income from teaching Korean at a university—they could not sustain their high-consumption lifestyle.

Finding themselves in a financial hole, the couple approached Xia Xuhe. At the cost of their own son, they regained the rights to the family trust fund from her father.

To put it bluntly, the couple had sold their son to his grandfather in exchange for a substantial fortune.

From that point on, their lives began to stabilize, and Lin Yuan gradually made a name for himself in the design world.

As for Lin Xingcan, he was renamed Xia Xing and raised as a child of the Xia family ever since.

Such intimate details could never have been uncovered unless Dispatch had found someone within the Xia family.

Moreover, given that Peninsula International had interests in the publishing industry, it wouldn't be difficult for them to figure out why Dispatch was digging for information about their family members...

In other words... someone inside the Xia family wanted these matters exposed to the media?

"Manager Lee, even if I were willing to cooperate with the company's hype, there's no guarantee that Xia Xing would play along."

When Yoo Jimin said this, a sting of bitterness filled her heart. In the end, an artist is always just a commodity for the company to make money.

As long as they can generate attention and traffic to monetize, how much do the artist's feelings really matter?

If the company truly cared about its artists, so many of her seniors wouldn't have succumbed to mental illnesses caused by negative public opinion and company pressure—some even suffering worse fates...

Yoo Jimin just wanted to be a good artist, to practice her vocals and dance in the studio, and to present her best self to her fans on stage.

But why was it so difficult? Sometimes she truly envied the other three members of her group. Compared to her, the captain, their burdens had been lighter since their debut.

After being attacked by the entire internet with rumors of bullying fellow trainees and mocking the appearances of seniors, she had fought tooth and nail to make it to where she was today.

Now, it seemed she was about to step into another thicket of thorns.

She suddenly remembered what Xia Xing had said to her under the streetlamp that day.

To make roses bloom in a thicket of thorns, one must pay the price of blood and pain.

Seeing Yoo Jimin still looking troubled, Manager Lee tried to offer a gentle smile: "It doesn't matter if he agrees or not. Anyway, the Xia family..."

He suddenly realized he had said too much and changed his tone:

"In short, Dispatch has already laid the groundwork for us. You don't need to worry about his side of things."

***

The initially cool and soft sensation had, upon separation, turned feverish and scorching, carrying the lingering traces of their intertwined emotions.

Shin Yuna panted slightly, pulling herself up from Xia Xing’s seat. Her fingers slowly withdrew from his loosened collar, and as she toyed with his tie, she lifted the corners of her mouth in a mockingly mature gesture.

"Your kissing technique is a bit rusty."

"You weren't much better yourself."

"For a first kiss, this was already quite good..."

Shin Yuna’s voice grew softer. Her long legs, finding nowhere to rest, shifted, causing the chair to spin back and forth.

The tie in her hand had, without her realizing it, been tied into a knot.

In her mind, she replayed her impulsive actions over and over.

One hand had held his cheek to turn him slightly, while the other had been quite restless, tugging at his collar and leaving his once-impeccable shirt in disarray.

Looking at the boy before her, who was even more nervous than she was, she hadn't been able to stop herself from kissing him.

But due to a lack of experience, perhaps "biting down hard" would be a more accurate description.

However, as they gradually adapted to the intimate distance, Xia Xing's hands, which were wrapped around her waist and back, made her feel more relaxed. The initially unromantic, light biting gradually transformed into the kiss she had imagined.

They had only intended for a brief, fleeting touch, but in the end... the clock on the workstation told them they had been intimate for nearly half an hour.

Wiping the saliva from the corners of her mouth—it was impossible to tell whose was whose—Xia Xing felt