The meeting point Ahn Yujin sent was a relatively quiet alley entrance in Gangnam-gu, Seoul, scheduled for 11:30 PM the day after tomorrow.
This was a very clever timing, avoiding dinner rush and nightclub peak hours, when most ordinary citizens would have already returned home to rest, with only a few night owls still active.
For this “midnight stroll,” Liang Yun-ssi began to seriously prepare his “disguise.”
He rummaged through his closet, found the baggiest, most shapeless black hoodie he could find, and put up the hood.
Then, he put on a black bucket hat, pulling the brim extremely low, almost covering the upper half of his face.
Finally, he put on his essential black mask and a pair of large, black-rimmed glasses with clear lenses.
He stood in front of the mirror, looking at himself armed to the teeth, and felt very satisfied.
“How is it? Fang Zi, isn’t my disguise perfect?”
His roommate, Fang Zi, was playing games in the living room.
He didn’t even turn his head, merely saying in a tone of extreme disdain, “Perfect your ass! You’re wrapped up like a walking mummy, and there’s a hole in the sleeve of your hoodie! Do you know that right now, you look more like a pervert than those sasaengs stalking you? You’re telling everyone, ‘Look at me! I’m a suspicious person who needs to hide his identity!'”
“This is being low-key,” Liang Yun-ssi retorted stubbornly.
“Low-key my foot! True low-key is natural! You’re doing performance art! Do you believe that if you walk onto the street, Ahn Yujin will be the first to report you as a stalker!”
Despite being thoroughly mocked by Fang Zi, Liang Yun-ssi still insisted on wearing this “full gear.” After all, safety first.
At 11:25 PM, Liang Yun-ssi arrived at the agreed alley entrance five minutes early.
He leaned against the wall, head down, trying to blend into the shadows like an underground intelligence agent waiting for a deal.
At 11:30 PM, a black van slowly pulled up at the alley entrance.
The door opened, and a slender figure stepped out.
Liang Yun-ssi looked up and was instantly stunned.
Ahn Yujin’s “disguise” could only be described as “textbook-level.” She wore an ordinary long black down jacket, simple dark jeans, and a pair of sneakers underneath.
She had a black baseball cap pulled low over her head and a mask on her face.
This outfit was the most common “extra” configuration on the streets of Seoul, the kind that would be invisible in a crowd.
She didn’t deliberately hide or over-arm herself, but rather used a “blend into the environment” approach to perfectly conceal herself in the night.
If Liang Yun-ssi hadn’t known it was her, he would never have given her a second glance.
Although her oversized down jacket covered her striking long legs and slender waist, it couldn’t hide the unique, vibrant youthful aura about her.
Her large eyes, visible above the cap and mask, were still clear, bright, and full of spirit.
She zipped her down jacket up to her chin, revealing only a small section of her fair neck.
Her composure and naturalness formed a stark contrast to Liang Yun-ssi’s sneaky, stiff “pervert” attire.
Ahn Yujin spotted Liang Yun-ssi, who was huddled in the shadows, at a glance.
She paused for a moment, then couldn’t help but let out a soft “pfft,” laughing.
She walked over quickly, her eyes above the mask curving into two beautiful crescents.
“Ya! Liang Yun-ssi! What are you doing?” she whispered, but her tone was full of barely suppressed laughter.
“Are you going to rob a bank? Or are you… pretending to be a ninja?”
Liang Yun-ssi’s face flushed from her teasing.
He tugged at his hat: “This is… a safety measure.”
“It’s too much! You’re actually more conspicuous this way!” Ahn Yujin shook her head helplessly, then reached out a hand and, as if dealing with a lost puppy, gently patted his wide hat brim.
“Alright, don’t be nervous. Let’s go, tonight I’ll let you experience an idol’s ‘midnight stroll.'”
She walked ahead, her steps light and natural.
Liang Yun-ssi followed her closely, like a robot being led.
“I’m taking you for fried chicken, then we’ll walk by the Han River,” Ahn Yujin turned back, her eyes smiling.
“Didn’t you say you’ve only been able to eat takeout lately? Today we’re having freshly fried!”
Ahn Yujin led him into an inconspicuous little fried chicken shop located in a basement.
There were only a few scattered tables of customers, mostly night shift workers from nearby.
They found a seat in the furthest corner.
Liang Yun-ssi was still fully geared up, only reluctantly taking off his hat and glasses at Ahn Yujin’s strong insistence.
“Look at you, your dark circles are almost touching the floor,” Ahn Yujin said, ordering while looking at him with a scrutinizing gaze.
“Have you been staying up late writing songs again recently?”
“Uh… I’m writing songs for CRAVITY,” Liang Yun-ssianswered subconsciously.
“Workaholic,” Ahn Yujin commented, her tone carrying a hint of helplessness, but more so an understanding of him.
The fried chicken arrived quickly, steaming hot and fragrant.
Liang Yun-ssi looked at the golden, crispy fried chicken in front of him, feeling his soul elevate.
He put on disposable gloves, ready to dig in, but then noticed Ahn Yujin quietly watching him, not touching her food.
“Why are you staring at me?” Liang Yun-ssi asked, a little puzzled.
“I’m watching you eat,” Ahn Yujin rested her chin in her hand, her large eyes full of curiosity.
“You’re always so serious and quiet at the company. This is the first time I’ve seen you so relaxed.”
Liang Yun-ssi felt his face start to heat up again.
He quickly lowered his head and took a big bite of fried chicken, trying to use the food’s warmth to cover the flush on his face.
“Weren’t we going to discuss music?” he changed the subject.
“Ah, yes, music,” Ahn Yujin smirked, picked up a piece of fried chicken, took a bite, and then slowly said, “Liang Yun-ssi, honestly, who did you write ‘isolation’ about?”
“I wrote it about… the feeling of loneliness during the pandemic.”
“Don’t give me that official line!” Ahn Yujin pouted.
“I’m asking, who is the ‘you’ in the song?”
Liang Yun-ssi’s hand froze in mid-air.
The “you” in the song was the person he imagined, the one who could break his loneliness and bring him light.
And although Liang Yun-ssi was unwilling to admit it, subconsciously, that image had long been occupied by the shadow of the person in front of him.
He didn’t dare to tell the truth.
He was afraid of breaking this relationship, and even more afraid of losing the person in front of him.
“No one, just a concept.”
“Tch, boring,” Ahn Yujin rolled her eyes, but quickly smiled again.
She leaned in a little, her eyes looking directly at him, her tone carrying a hint of playful teasing and an anticipation she herself didn’t realize.
“What about now? When you write songs now, whose shadow appears in your mind?”
Liang Yun-ssi felt flustered by her overly direct gaze; he felt his heart was about to pound out of his chest.
“I’m only thinking about how to write CRAVITY’s rap line right now…” He used work as a shield again.
Ahn Yujin watched his embarrassed expression and finally smiled contentedly.
She didn’t press him further, resting her arms on the table and propping up her head, just looking at him with a gentle, smiling gaze.
“Alright, I won’t tease you anymore. Eat quickly, it’ll get cold if you don’t.” This chapter is updated first at g.com.
In their subsequent conversation, Ahn Yujin didn’t bring up music again but instead initiated talk about life.
She asked about his family, why he chose to study in Korea, and his feelings when he first met her and Jang Wonyoung at Starship Entertainment.
Liang Yun-ssi found that when she was no longer the dazzling idol on stage but just a curious, warm young girl, his social anxiety seemed to lessen considerably.
He began to slowly, intermittently, share his story.
They talked about IZ*ONE’s daily life, Korean idol culture, and his university life in Shanghai.
Ahn Yujinlistened very attentively, occasionally exclaiming in admiration and surprise.
Her vitality and curiosity were like a warm current, slowly melting the cold barrier within Liang Yun-ssi’s heart.
By the time they finished the fried chicken and arrived at the Han River, it was almost 1 AM.
By the Han River on a summer night, the breeze was gentle.
They walked side by side on the quiet path; occasionally, cyclists passed by, but no one recognized them.
“You know,” Ahn Yujin suddenly said, her voice carried by the night wind, a rare, girlish sensibility in her tone, “an idol’s life is actually very much like the ‘isolation’ in your song. We’re trapped in a magnificent glass dome; people outside can’t see our true selves, and it’s difficult for us to truly experience the outside world.”
She turned her head and looked at Liang Yun-ssi, her large eyes filled with a moonlit tenderness.
“So, thank you. Your song made many people feel that they weren’t alone in their loneliness.”
Liang Yun-ssi’s heart trembled.
He looked at the girl a few years younger than him and suddenly realized that the pressure she bore might be much greater than he had imagined.
“You’re also amazing,” he said softly.
“Your stages bring strength to many people. Including me.”
Ahn Yujin smiled contentedly at his words.
She stopped, turned around, and faced him.
“Oppa…” She raised her hand and gently, carefully, took off the mask from Liang Yun-ssi’s face, her movement as tender as if handling a fragile work of art.
Liang Yun-ssi’s breath suddenly hitched.
“That’s better, right?” she said, smiling, her eyes full of encouragement.
“When you’re out for a stroll, you should breathe some fresh air. Don’t be afraid, no one here knows you.”
Her hand, after taking off the mask, didn’t immediately retract but gently, with a hint of cool warmth, brushed his cheek.
Liang Yun-ssi felt his cheek flush again, but this time, it wasn’t from embarrassment, but an indescribable, gentle flutter.
He looked at the face in front of him, which appeared exceptionally clear and beautiful in the moonlight, and a strong impulse surged within him to say something, to do something.
Just in this ambiguous, tension-filled atmosphere, Ahn Yujin’s phone rang, unsuitably.
She glanced at the screen, a helpless expression on her face.
“Oh, it’s Wonyoung,” she sighed.
“She probably guessed I snuck out and is urging me to go back to sleep.”
She stuck out her tongue at Liang Yun-ssi, then helped him put his mask back on.
“Alright, ‘date’s over. I’ll take you out for another stroll next time.”
Liang Yun-ssi looked at the person in front of him and, as if possessed, spoke,
“Will there be a next time?”
Ahn Yujin was about to leave.
Hearing Liang Yun-ssi’s words, she stopped, turned back, and gave him a smile.
That smile was different from her usual cute, mischievous grin; it was so beautiful that it made Liang Yun-ssi forget to breathe.
“Of course! Even if you don’t want to, I’ll drag you out.”