Despite her busy schedule and the pressures of being one of the brightest new stars in Korea, Haerin still found time to study with me every night. After hours of rehearsals and shooting, she would sit down with me, usually exhausted, but always determined. I'd teach her English, Japanese, even STEM concepts that were way beyond what most people her age would have learned. 

Every evening, without fail, I spend two hours teaching Haerin. Even though she's become a household name and her schedule is packed with filming and performances, she never lets that interfere with her education. She shows up, ready to study, without ever complaining. In fact, it's almost as if she feels a sense of responsibility, as though this time together is a privilege, and she cherishes it deeply.

I've noticed, though, something special about Haerin that has become more apparent with each passing day. She is incredibly dedicated—far more than people would expect from someone so young and famous. She puts her all into every lesson, staying focused, absorbing everything I teach her, no matter how late it gets. She's not just a star on stage, but a star in her own right in our study sessions. 

It was during one of our study sessions that Ekip 722, who are always so keenly observant, pulled me aside to share something with me. They had been watching Haerin, and they were excited to tell me what they'd noticed: "Minji, she's like a cat—so incredibly beautiful, but at the same time, she's so obedient, so eager to listen to you. You wouldn't believe how much she adores you."

Their words made my heart swell with pride. It felt good to know that not only had I seen Haerin's dedication, but others had noticed it too. It wasn't just her beauty that had people in awe; it was her commitment, her quiet yet unwavering respect for me. I couldn't help but smile at their words. "She really is," I said, feeling a sense of warmth and affection. "She's not just a talented artist—she's a remarkable person in so many ways."

As we continued our lessons, I couldn't help but observe Haerin in a new light. Her beauty was captivating, like something from another world—so delicate and ethereal, yet strong at the same time. There was something undeniably feline about her: the soft curve of her face, her perfectly sculpted features, and the way her eyes glimmered with intelligence and curiosity. Her eyes, always so large and expressive, were like pools of liquid green, so deep and mysterious, with the slightest flicker of playfulness, like a cat who knows she's the most graceful creature in the room.

When she spoke, her voice had a softness to it, a melodic, almost purring quality. It was the kind of voice that could melt anyone's heart—a gentle, soothing sound that made you want to listen forever. She would tilt her head slightly when she spoke, and the way she enunciated her words made it seem like she was carefully choosing them, as if every sentence was a little gift. 

Her mannerisms, too, were so delicate, so graceful, they reminded me of a cat. When she sat beside me, her posture was perfect—shoulders back, hands folded neatly in her lap, eyes focused, her attention fixed solely on me, like a cat who never takes her eyes off her owner. She had a way of curling into herself when she was thinking, her body almost folding in like a cat preparing to pounce. It was a mix of elegance and quiet intelligence, and it was impossible not to be captivated by her.

Even her movements had a fluidity, like a cat's; graceful and effortless. When she picked up a book, when she jotted down a note, everything she did had this slow, deliberate beauty. And her expressions, too, were so subtle. There was a slight tilt to her lips when she was learning something new, a soft curiosity that made her seem like she was always on the verge of discovering something wonderful, as if the world itself was a constant source of mystery.

Haerin wasn't just dedicated to learning; she was dedicated to doing it in a way that was both humble and poised. She wasn't boastful about how quickly she was picking things up, nor was she frustrated with the times it took a little longer. She was patient, steady, and always open to feedback. Like a cat who waits patiently for her owner to guide her, Haerin was always willing to listen, to learn, and to grow.

I had never met anyone like her—so beautiful, so smart, so effortlessly graceful. She wasn't just a student to me. She was someone I admired deeply, and as I watched her sit there beside me, taking in everything I taught her, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Haerin was mine to guide, to help shape, and I knew she would continue to blossom into something even more remarkable. I wasn't just teaching her lessons—she was teaching me what it meant to be dedicated, to be humble, and to love learning for the sake of it.

But I couldn't teach Haerin everything. As much as I would have loved to help her with music, dance, or piano, those weren't my areas of expertise. But luckily, the 722 team had connections with some of the best instructors in the country. They knew Haerin well—her passion, her dedication, and her desire to learn. They had seen her potential long before I had even thought about it.

One evening, after a long day of studying together, I was talking to the team. They mentioned, almost casually, "Minji, we have access to some of the best teachers in the industry. We've already spoken to them about Haerin's interest in piano, voice, and dance. She's been asking about lessons, and it's clear she's committed to learning. We think she'd be an ideal student for them."

Without a second thought, I agreed. If it meant Haerin had the opportunity to become the best version of herself, I would spare no expense.

The whole situation felt like a win-win collaboration. 

****

After a couple of weeks of tutoring Haerin, an unexpected opportunity came our way. A popular TV program, invited us to participate in an IQ test on air. 

The public had been buzzing with rumors and speculation about us for a while—questions about our relationship, our backgrounds, and the enigmatic dynamics between the two of us. No one knew much about the true nature of our connection. All they knew was that I seemed to be the sole person behind Haerin's rise, an "angel investor," if you will, pouring resources and support into her career and education, and Haerin was the only artist I had completely taken under my wing, owning her future in every sense.

The media had concocted countless theories—some suggesting we were simply mentor and mentee, others insinuating something more personal—but nothing concrete ever surfaced. Neither of us confirmed any of the rumors, and we kept our personal lives as private as possible. But with the invitation to the show, the public's curiosity reached new heights, and the test became a way to satisfy their thirst for information, at least partially.

I wasn't bothered by the attention, though. To me, this was just another IQ test for the two of us—something straightforward and public, a way to prove ourselves without needing to dive into any explanations. It was simple, really, and I saw no reason not to agree. It wasn't like I had anything to hide.

This would be the first time Haerin and I appeared together on a mainstream TV show, and to be honest, I was kind of looking forward to it. 

***

The moment Haerin heard the announcement about the IQ test, I could feel her gaze shift. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, the corners of her lips lifting in that delicate, feline smile. It wasn't the kind of reaction someone would expect from a celebrity—there was no exaggerated gasp or loud outburst. Instead, Haerin looked at me with an almost curious, admiring glint in her eyes, like a cat intrigued by a new discovery. She was still so graceful, even in her surprise.

I couldn't help but notice the change. It was as though her eyes were trying to decode me, trying to understand the complexity of the person standing in front of her. She wasn't just looking at me; she was seeing me in a way that felt... new, different. It made me feel a strange sense of pride, as though I had just given her a puzzle she couldn't wait to figure out. The more I looked at her, the more her gaze stayed on me—lingering just a little longer than usual.

I felt a wave of satisfaction bubble up inside me. This was exactly why I did it.

The TV studio was buzzing, and the doctor who would be conducting the IQ test had arrived. We all sat down, and the conversation quickly shifted to analyzing the results.

"Well," the doctor began, looking at both Haerin and me with a professional but intrigued demeanor, "let's talk about the test results. Minji, as we already know, your IQ is at 145, which places you in the top 0.1% of the population, a truly exceptional score." He glanced at Haerin, then back at me. "Haerin's result was equally impressive—118, which places her in the 86th percentile. While it's not as high as Minji's, it's still well above average, and she's certainly above 85% of the population."

I nodded, my gaze briefly meeting Haerin's, who was still focused on me. I couldn't help but smile inwardly.

The doctor continued, clearly enjoying the analysis. "To put this in perspective, the average IQ in South Korea is around 100. So, Haerin, with her score of 118, is definitely in the higher range, well above the majority of people."

"And compared to Minji," the doctor added, "Minji's IQ of 145 is exceptional. It's not just about speed or comprehension—people with an IQ like Minji's can grasp abstract concepts with ease, solve complex problems quickly, and learn efficiently without needing to struggle."

I could see Haerin's eyes flicker, her gaze locked on me as the doctor spoke. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes. It was an unspoken recognition that had me standing a little taller.

After the doctor finished, he turned his attention to me. "Minji, you've clearly demonstrated extraordinary intelligence in both your academic and professional life, skipping grades and excelling in your career. But it's equally important to recognize the effort that Haerin has put into her own growth. 118 is a great score. It shows she has the potential to learn and succeed in ways that may take a little more time and effort than you, but certainly not less value."

Haerin, who had been silently absorbing the conversation, glanced at me again.I smiled back at her, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride. This was what I wanted—this bond we were forming.

****

As the IQ test results were revealed on air, the reaction from the studio audience was nothing short of dramatic. The room was filled with gasps and excited murmurs. The air was electric, as the crowd tried to process the numbers: Minji, with her staggering IQ of 145, and Haerin, who had scored an impressive 118. It wasn't just the scores themselves that caught their attention—it was the unexpected dynamic between the two women that intrigued everyone.

The studio erupted in applause, the audience completely captivated by the scene unfolding before them.

"Minji's IQ of 145 is astonishing!" one of the guests on the show remarked. "We don't see many people with that level of intelligence—she's not just a business mogul, she's a genius!"

After the show aired, news outlets were flooded with articles about me. Headlines like "Kim Minji: The Mysterious, Brilliant Angel Investor Behind Haerin's Rise" and "IQ of 145, Business Mogul, and an Unmatched Beauty: Meet Kim Minji" dominated the media. It was clear that I had become a household name, synonymous with success, wealth, and untold potential.

But there was one person who didn't look at me with awe or excitement. Haerin.

She knew all of it—she knew how people saw me, how they whispered about my brilliance and my fortune. But unlike the rest of the world, Haerin never reacted like anyone else did. While the public was transfixed by my presence, Haerin remained calm, collected, and steady. She didn't fawn over me or treat me like some kind of celebrity. She didn't indulge in the media frenzy or bask in the newfound public interest in me.

Instead, she kept being Haerin. The same quiet, thoughtful girl I had taken under my wing months ago. At home, there were no grand gestures of admiration, no change in the way she acted around me. Haerin went about her business, as if nothing had shifted. She was still the girl who would sit beside me, eager to learn, working diligently, and following my guidance with unwavering loyalty.

I couldn't help but notice, though, that in the days following the show, Haerin's behavior had subtly shifted. Before, she had always been respectful, obedient, and diligent in her studies, but now, she was even more attentive, more focused. It was as though the show had only deepened her respect for me, and she was silently acknowledging the differences between us in a way that only she could.

Even when we were at home, she would look at me a little differently now, her gaze filled with something more profound—something like an unspoken understanding that went beyond words. Her eyes would linger on me for a second longer, but there was no fawning, no over-exaggerated gestures. She simply worked harder, as if trying to prove her own worth, not just to the world but to me.

"Minji," she would say, softly, after finishing a long study session, "I'm tired, but I want to keep going."

Her words were always polite, always considerate. Even now, after everything had happened, she remained the same respectful, dedicated Haerin. But there was an additional layer to her devotion—a quiet determination that was growing stronger each day. I had helped her realize her potential, and now, she was embracing it with a new sense of purpose.

"Good," I would respond, watching her closely. "Let's do another hour of English. You're making great progress."

Haerin would nod, sitting up straighter, the same determination reflected in her posture. The way she looked at me now felt different from before. It was more focused, more aligned with the path I had set for her. It wasn't just that she was listening—she was absorbing everything more deeply, more quickly.

And as for me, I found myself more eager than ever to help her succeed. Every small victory, every breakthrough she made, felt even more rewarding now that I saw her working so hard, day in and day out.

Haerin, despite the fame, despite the newfound attention, remained as grounded as ever. It was a quality I had always admired in her, and now, after the show, it seemed to have only strengthened. While the world looked at us in awe, Haerin stayed focused on what truly mattered—learning, growing, and becoming the best version of herself under my guidance.

In the quiet of our home, it felt like nothing had changed. It was just me and Haerin, as it always had been. But deep down, I knew we were both different now.