The ripple effect of the chart tsunami was astonishing.
The next morning, Liang Yun, or rather L.Y., dominated the headlines of major entertainment news outlets in Korea.
“Super Rookie L.Y. Debuts at the Peak! ‘Isolation’ Lands at #2 on Melon Real-time Chart, Setting a New Rookie Debut Record!”
“From SoundCloud King to Chart Monster, the Grand Entrance of Genius Singer-Songwriter L.Y.!”
“Who Shook the Iron Wall of Boy Groups? The Answer is L.Y.!”
“‘Atmospheric Handsome Man’ L.Y.’s Debut Stage Sparks Heated Discussion,’Storytelling Eyes’ Captivate Countless Women!”
Overnight, he seemed to transform from an unknown international student into a household name, a “monster rookie.” The company’s phone was ringing off the hook, with invitations for various appearances, interviews, and photoshoot offers pouring in like snowflakes.
Director Kim Ji-yeon personally took charge, filtering out most unnecessary exposures, and ultimately finalized a few appearances that would best solidify his image as a “talented singer-songwriter.”
The first of these, and the one that made Liang Yunfeel most suffocated, was a top-tier midday radio live broadcast program — Kim Shin-young’s Hope Song at Noon.
This program was known for its relaxed and humorous atmosphere and host Kim Shin-young’s strong control, making it a must-visit promotional platform for many artists during their comeback periods.
The most critical part was that it was a “visual radio” show, meaning not only would the sound be broadcast nationwide, but the visuals would also be live-streamed through online platforms.
For Liang Yun, this was double the torture.
“Can’t… can’t I not go?” In the company’s meeting room, Liang Yun made his final, futile struggle.
“…Do we really have to repeat this conversation every time?” Liang Yun closed his mouth.
Kim Ji-yeon, dressed in a sharp white suit today, picked up her coffee, took an elegant sip, and then looked at him with an undeniable gaze: “Liang Yun-ssi, you are now a singer at number two on the charts, not an independent musician who can do as he pleases. This is work, and it is a responsibility you must bear.”
Thus, on the third day after his debut stage aired, Liang Yun was once again squeezed into the van and sent to the MBC radio building.
On the way to the radio station, Manager Kim Min-ho held a thick stack of documents, giving him “hellish” pre-job training.
“Liang Yun-ssi, these are the anticipated questions from the production team, let’s go over them first.” Kim Min-ho cleared his throat, imitating the host’s tone, “First question: L.Y.-xi, congratulations on achieving such great results, how do you feel now?”
Liang Yun looked expressionlessly out the window: “Uh… it’s alright.”
Kim Min-ho’s face twitched: “Uh… can the answer be a little more… full? For example, very excited, like a dream, thanking fans for their love, etc…”
Liang Yun: “Huh?…Okay.”
Kim Min-ho took a deep breath and continued with the second question: “What was the inspiration for the song ‘Isolation’?”
Liang Yun: “During the pandemic, I was stuck at home, very bored.”
Kim Min-ho: “…”
“Next question, what are your usual hobbies?”
Liang Yun: “Playing games.”
“…And your favorite food?”
Liang Yun: “Fried chicken?”
…After a series of questions and answers, Kim Min-ho felt his soul was almost sucked dry by Liang Yun’s infuriatingly concise answers.
He covered his face, letting out a desperate groan: “Bro… please, this is a live broadcast, not a text interview! You’ll cause a broadcast accident!”
Liang Yun looked at him, on the verge of tears, and knew he couldn’t continue like this, but he truly couldn’t do it.
Asking him to eloquently share his inner world with a stranger was harder than asking him to do ballet.
In an atmosphere almost as tragic as going to an execution ground, they arrived at the radio station.
Outside the glass wall of the live studio, many fans and media reporters had already gathered, having heard the news.
They held cameras and banners, and a small commotion erupted when they saw Liang Yun appear.
Liang Yun was so startled he almost turned and ran, but was eventually half-pushed, half-dragged into the live studio by Kim Min-ho.
Inside the live studio, host Kim Shin-young had already finished her makeup and was going over the script with the writer.
Seeing Liang Yun enter, she immediately broke into a warm smile.
Kim Shin-young is a top Korean female comedian and host, known for her strong amiability and ability to control a situation; even the most awkward guests would liven up under her guidance.
The live broadcast began.
After a lively opening and commercials, Kim Shin-young steered the conversation towards Liang Yun.
“Today, we have a heavyweight guest in our live studio! He is the monster rookie who has recently shaken the entire music industry — L.Y.! Welcome!”
Liang Yun bowed stiffly to the camera, then sat down, his hands nervously placed on his knees.
Kim Shin-young looked at his expression, which looked as if he had been kidnapped, and thought, “As expected,” but her face remained smiling: “L.Y.-xi, please greet our listeners first.”
Liang Yun leaned into the microphone and whispered: “…Hello everyone, I am L.Y.”
And then, there was nothing else.
A three-second, awkward silence filled the air.
Kim Shin-young immediately laughed to smooth things over: “Aigoo, our L.Y.-xi is really shy! He’s completely different from his charismatic self on stage! I personally really like this contrasting charm!”
On the live studio’s real-time comment board, listeners had already started flooding the screen.
“Is this a broadcast accident? Is my internet lagging?”
“Oppa, are you too nervous? You can’t even speak, hahahaha.”
“So cute, like an elementary school student being called on by the teacher.”
Kim Shin-young began to ask questions according to the script.
Sure enough, Liang Yun’s answers were exactly the same as practiced in the van—concise, direct, as if an extra word would kill him.
The entire atmosphere of the live studio was maintained solely by Kim Shin-young, with her strong variety sense and various exaggerated reactions.
Seeing that the show was about to fall into an irreversible awkward situation, Kim Shin-young, with her seasoned experience, changed her strategy.
She knew that for an introverted creator like him, she had to find the “switch” that would make him open up.
“L.Y.-xi,” she changed her tone, her expression becoming serious, “let’s talk about something professional. I’ve personally looped ‘Isolation’ many, many times. I’m especially curious, when you were arranging the song, why did you add that somewhat retro-sounding, 80s-synthesizer-like Pad sound in the second chorus? That moment truly gave me goosebumps.”
This question, like a key, precisely inserted itself into the rusty lock in Liang Yun’s brain.
He paused, then his previously tense body unconsciously relaxed.
He adjusted his headphones, leaned into the microphone, and this time, his voice was no longer a faint murmur.
“Because… I wanted this song to not only express current loneliness but also have a sense of time’s precipitation. That sound makes people think of old cassette tapes or old movies; it brings a ‘memory’ filter to the song. I hope that when listeners hear that part, they can recall a similarly lonely moment from their own past, thereby generating a deeper emotional resonance.”
His speaking speed was not fast, but his enunciation was clear, and his logic was distinct.
His eyes, which had previously avoided the camera, now began to radiate confident light from discussing a field he loved.
Kim Shin-young’s eyes lit up; she knew she had found the switch.
For the rest of the time, she completely abandoned the script and began a pure musical exchange with Liang Yun.
From the emotional guidance of chord progressions to the choice of words in the lyrics, and then to the handling of spatial perception in mixing…
Liang Yun answered fluently, even citing classical references, displaying an astonishing professional competence and musical talent completely at odds with his socially anxious exterior.
The comment board in the live studio also completely changed its tone.
“I’m going crazy! He glows when he talks about music!”
“Is this the same person? Where did that introverted child go?”
“I really love this contrast! Usually a cute social phobe, but turns into a great demon king when talking about his profession!”
“Oppa, I love you ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah”
In the middle of the program, according to the schedule, Liang Yun was to perform a live guitar and vocal performance.
He picked up his familiar guitar, and his entire aura changed once again.
All his tension and unease vanished the moment his fingers touched the strings.
He didn’t look at the camera, nor did he look at anyone; he just lowered his head, closed his eyes, and gently strummed the strings.
Without the rich arrangement of the studio version, there was only a guitar and a voice.
That sense of loneliness was stripped of all its elaborate packaging, becoming more naked, more pure, and more directly striking to the heart.
After the song, the entire live studio, including outside the glass wall, fell into a complete silence.
Kim Shin-young even forgot to applaud, just looking at him with an expression mixed with shock and emotion.
The first call came in, from a very excited female fan who incoherently expressed her love for him.
Liang Yun reverted to the introverted child who could only say “thank you.”
The second call changed the atmosphere of the scene.
After the call connected, a deliberately lowered and disguised, yet still somewhat clear and vibrant, female voice came through.
“Hello, I am an ordinary listener from Seoul.”
Kim Shin-young smiled and asked: “Hello, listener, what would you like to say to our L.Y.-xi?”
The female voice cleared her throat, then asked in a feigned serious tone: “I would like to ask L.Y.-xi, I heard you just said your hobby is playing games and your favorite food is fried chicken… Besides these, do you have any other interests?”
This question sounded very ordinary.
But immediately after, she added another sentence.
“For example… just an example, are you interested in ‘big dogs’?”
The three words “big dog” struck Liang Yun’s head like a lightning bolt.
His brain buzzed, instantly going blank.
This voice…
this teasing tone…
this inexplicable analogy…
A figure wearing a cute dog T-shirt, with smiling crescent eyes, always boisterous, instantly appeared in his mind.
Damn it, Ahn Yujin!
This girl deliberately called to tease him!
He suddenly looked up, staring in a certain direction outside the live studio, as if trying to see through the wall to the person playing the prank.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but not a single word came out.
He just stared at the camera with a strange expression for a long time.
Kim Shin-young and all the listeners were stunned.
What was going on?
How could the man who just discussed music so professionally freeze on the spot because of a “big dog” question?
“Oh? L.Y.-xi? What’s wrong? Why aren’t you answering? Are you allergic to dogs?” Kim Shin-young asked curiously.
“I… no… that…” Liang Yun was incoherent, his brain completely unable to organize effective language.
He even wondered if he was hallucinating.
The girl on the other end of the phone, seemingly having achieved her goal, let out a satisfied, suppressed giggle, then quickly said: “Ah, it seems L.Y.-xi is thinking hard, I won’t disturb him! L.Y.-xi fighting! I’m hanging up now!”
With that, the call was disconnected.
Meanwhile, in the distant IZ*ONE dorm, Ahn Yujin, like a cat that had stolen a dried fish, contentedly hung up the phone, then hugged a cushion and rolled around on the sofa, laughing.
She was still wearing that oversized dog T-shirt, and because she was so nervous and excited during the call, a beautiful pink flush appeared on her delicate collarbones and cheeks.
She laughed without any pretense, her long legs flailing in the air, her soft short hair becoming messy, and she looked just like a large Samoyed frolicking after a successful prank.
“Hahahahaha! He definitely recognized me! Look at his silly face! It’s so funny!”
In the live studio, Liang Yun was still in a petrified state.
He hadn’t heard anything Kim Shin-young said afterward, his mind filled only with the phrase “Are you interested in big dogs?” and that familiar, mischievous chuckle.
That day, L.Y.’s first radio broadcast once again ignited discussion in an extremely bizarre way.
People were no longer just talking about his musical talent and contrasting charm, but also a brand new, unsolved mystery that left everyone baffled—
Why did monster rookie L.Y.
completely shut down on the spot because of the three words “big dog”?