msmithbooks Chapter 17 | Weekly Meeting
Chapter 17 | Weekly Meeting
Min Hee-jin wasn't the type to just stare at the PowerPoint presentation from the moment she entered. Her gaze swept around the room, pausing for a moment when it landed on the back row.
It wasn't because Cao Yisen made a big move, but rather because he was too quiet.
He was unusually quiet for a newcomer who was just there to "make up the numbers." He took notes very quickly; while others would instinctively look up at their boss's expression when they heard certain sensitive words, he would only pause for a second at the key points and then continue writing.
More importantly, his face was too conspicuous in the conference room.
Clean-cut and refined, his demeanor was neither that of a pure entertainer nor that of a seasoned veteran who had been in the company for a long time. Sitting there, he seemed more like someone who had been temporarily placed in the wrong position.
Min Hee-jin didn't show it, but while flipping through the documents, she lightly tapped the pages with her fingertips and turned her head to ask her companion in a low voice.
"Is that person in the back row new?"
The assistant followed her gaze and nodded, "Yes. It's a new person in the planning support team at PLEDIS."
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Cao Yisen, English name Ethan." The assistant flipped through the documents. "He's supposedly from headquarters. He was originally interviewed for a finance position at Big Hit, but Representative Han took him away."
Min Hee-jin barely raised an eyebrow, simply humming in a casual tone.
"Did Han Shengshou specifically poach people from headquarters?"
She seemed to be confirming something, or perhaps finding it a little amusing, "He rarely argues with people of this level."
The assistant lowered his voice even further: "The inside story is that Representative Han listened to his interview on the spot and felt that this person was not just an accountant, but also very clear-headed, so he directly asked for him. This even led to an argument with the headquarters HR."
Min Hee-jin capped her pen and smiled softly, as if it were a comment only she could understand.
"Interesting".
She didn't look at Cao Yisen again, but behind that "interesting" was actually a whole set of judgment mechanisms. In her experience, if someone was "stolen," there are usually only two possibilities:
One type is genuinely effective, making people willing to break off all pretense of civility.
Another one is—having a background.
Nepotism, favoritism, or a larger arrangement behind the scenes. Especially in a group system, the most common thing is not "a genius is discovered", but "someone is put in the right position".
A question naturally popped into her mind: Is this Ethan the first type or the second type?
Min Hee-jin certainly wouldn't ask too directly at the meeting; that would be too crude. She simply put the name in her mind and casually labeled it: "Requires verification."
The meetings continued, and the discussions went on. Han Shengshou and she maintained their "professional dialogue" posture on the table, occasionally clashing and sometimes refusing to give each other an out. But in a brief moment, Min Xizhen glanced at the back row again.
Cao Yisen happened to look up, as if he had heard a key word. His gaze fell on the screen for two seconds before he looked down again to continue taking notes. He didn't go to her, nor did he try to make eye contact, and he didn't show the nervousness and ingratiation common among newcomers.
This only made her more curious.
People who have connections usually show a hint of relaxation, as if they're being taken care of, or a hint of tension, as if they're afraid of being seen through. Cao Yisen showed neither of these traits. He seemed to be working diligently, yet also deliberately trying to minimize his presence.
Min Hee-jin added a note to her mind:
If he has connections, then the training on this line is very professional.
It would be even more interesting if he didn't have any connections.
As the weekly meeting drew to a close, a relaxed atmosphere had already settled in the meeting room.
As the PowerPoint presentation reached its final pages, the presenter slowed down, reiterating the key points in a "summarizing" tone. The planning team members nodded, adding notes as they went, their minds mostly on how to break down tasks after the meeting and how late they'd have to work tonight.
Just then, Min Hee-jin gently put down her pen. A soft "tap" echoed on the desk, enough to make those in the front row instinctively pause. Her gaze swept over several rows of people, landing on a seat near the back edge.
"The new colleague behind me."
Min Hee-jin spoke, her tone calm, even polite, "Cao Yisen, right?"
In that instant, the pens of several people in the back row stopped.
Park Ji-eun's expression froze for a moment, then, as if someone had suddenly tugged at her nerves, she turned to look at Cao Yisen with a slow, deliberate pause, her eyes conveying a very straightforward message:
—What did you do?
Cao Yisen was also taken aback.
It wasn't panic, but rather the kind of bewilderment that comes from thinking, "I've only been here a few days, how do you know my name?" He looked up, his gaze meeting Min Hee-jin's, and the next second he naturally stood up and nodded slightly.
"Yes, I am Cao Yisen."
He replied calmly, "Director Min."
The meeting room was eerily quiet. Even the sound of the air conditioner seemed amplified.
Min Hee-jin smiled slightly, a very faint smile, as if to confirm whether his reaction was quick enough.
"You've been taking notes the whole time."
She said, "You seem to have a knack for data." She paused, her tone still gentle, but her questions were as sharp as knives.
"Then I'd like to ask you to answer in one minute—"
"What will be the biggest obstacle from the outside world for fromis_9 to be integrated into our system this time?"
"Don't use slogans, and don't say things like 'hard work will lead to success'."
"Tell me one point that you think is most likely to go wrong."
After she finished speaking, someone in the conference room subconsciously gasped.
The women in the planning team all had the same expression on their faces: bewildered.
Park Ji-eun almost dropped the pen on the table. She even forgot to shield the newcomer first, and could only force a smile, looking at Cao Yisen with an expression that said, "Why are you suddenly doing a roll call?"
Even more outrageous, some people have already quietly set their sights on Han Shengshou—this question, seemingly directed at a newcomer, is actually a direct test in front of Representative Han: whether the person you snatched is "good at talking" or "truly capable."
This is a show of force.
And it was a very shrewd and uncompromising way of putting on a show of power. She didn't embarrass Han Shengshou; she was simply "kindly" asking a newcomer to answer questions. If the newcomer answered poorly, it was a problem with your judgment of people; if the newcomer answered well, it was as if she was teaching you a lesson: your people are in my hands, and I can check them at any time.
Han Shengshou didn't speak, but leaned back a little, as if watching a play, but his eyes were very clear.
Cao Yisen stood there, and his first reaction was not nervousness, but helplessness.
—I really am here to slack off.
He glanced at Park Ji-eun, whose gaze had changed from "What did you do?" to "You better live."
Cao Yisen withdrew his gaze, not rushing to speak. He first analyzed Min Xizhen's question in his mind: she didn't want a standard answer, she wanted "whether you have your own judgment." And it had to be quick, sharp, and spoken like someone knowledgeable.
He exhaled softly, his tone neither humble nor arrogant, as if he were giving a short report.
"If it were just a minute, I think the biggest obstacle wouldn't be the outside world criticizing it as a 'small company,' nor would it be that passersby don't recognize it."
He first ruled out false propositions, saying, "Those can be resolved gradually with resources and exposure."
"The easiest place to go wrong is internal positioning."
He looked up at the screen and asked, "Do we treat them as 'girl groups that have been merged' or 'main girl groups that need to be rebuilt'?"
"If we claim to be the main force, but in practice we still allocate resources as if it were a 'transitional project'—"
He paused, then added, "Fans will be the first to notice, and then all the discussions will turn into: 'See? It was just used to fill in the blanks after all.'"
Someone in the conference room nodded almost imperceptibly.
Cao Yisen continued, speaking at a steady pace: "The second point of failure was the concept and the rhythm."
"fromis_9's strengths are 'stability' and 'approachability'; they're not the kind of group that relies on a single breakout moment to skyrocket."
"If we try to prove that the Big Hit system is strong by forcibly elevating the concept and accelerating the pace, we may lose the part that is most effective in retaining people."
He looked at Min Hee-jin, his tone still calm: "Simply put, the most dangerous thing is not that the outside world doesn't accept it, but that we ourselves are too eager to prove ourselves, and as a result, we make them not like themselves."
He stopped after he finished speaking, and didn't say another word.
It took a little over a minute, but that was enough.
There was a two-second silence in the meeting room, then someone gave a soft "hmm," as if acknowledging it and also as if letting out a sigh of relief.
Park Ji-eun finally let out the breath she had been holding in, her face clearly showing two words: she's alive.
After hearing the sentence "The most dangerous thing is that we are in a hurry to prove it," Min Hee-jin's eyes visibly paused for a moment.
Instead of immediately changing the subject, she seemed to suddenly remember something, twirling the pen halfway between her fingers. Her tone remained calm, but carried a hint of "just testing you one more time."
"Then I'll ask one more question."
Min Hee-jin glanced at Cao Yi-sen in the back row, as if making a casual extension, and asked, "What do you think—if the company were to launch a new girl group, what should they do?"
The meeting room fell silent for a moment.
This issue may sound like a macro-level problem, but everyone knows how sensitive it is.
The group has no shortage of boy groups; BTS and SEVENTEEN are both there. But there has always been a vacancy for a girl group. The significance of recruiting Min Hee-jin has never been hidden internally: it's to fill that vacancy, and to fill it beautifully, to make her the leader of the "next generation."
Moreover, the girl group planning and visual systems she participated in at SM Entertainment are used as teaching materials in the industry. She's not here for a meeting to listen to advice; she's here to set the direction.
However, the thing about "direction" is that it's most dangerous when someone gives the wrong answer on the spot.
Park Ji-eun subconsciously bit her pen cap, her expression complex: she wanted to stop Cao Yisen, but also wanted to see how he would respond. Several members of the planning team nearby were all thinking the same thing: Newcomers, don't be too confident, don't take sides, don't be presumptuous.
Cao Yisen stood up calmly, as if he had already paid the psychological cost of being "called out".
"May I offer a simpler perspective?"
He first softened his tone, leaving himself room for maneuver, saying, "It might not be right."
Min Hee-jin nodded: "Speak."
Cao Yisen glanced at the screen, as if looking for a non-offensive entry point, and then spoke in a very ordinary but logically clear way.
"I think the hardest part about creating a new girl group isn't actually making it."
He said, "It's about creating them so that people are willing to see them as a 'new generation' girl group, rather than 'just another girl group'."
As soon as those words were spoken, someone in the conference room stirred slightly, as if a sensitive spot had been touched.
He continued, speaking slowly, but every sentence was getting to the heart of the matter.
"The company's strongest point right now is its system."
"The system can make training, content, stage, and dissemination very standardized. But if you rely solely on standardization, it's easy for a girl group to become something where everything is good, but no one stands out."
He paused for a second, then added a more straightforward version:
"A new girl group needs to have a 'reason to be remembered' first, and then we can talk about how to amplify that."
Min Hee-jin didn't interrupt, she just looked at him, as if waiting for him to continue.
Cao Yisen knew she wasn't after empty promises, so he made his words more practical.
"If there is already a pre-debut group inside—then I think the key question is not 'whether they can debut'."
"The key is that on their debut day, the audience must immediately understand how they are different from the girl groups that already exist on the market."
As he said this, his gaze naturally swept across the front row, his tone remaining restrained.
"I don't mean to create some kind of abstract worldview."
"I mean something simpler: their vibe, their narratives, the everyday quality that makes you want to keep watching."
"If the positioning is right, every subsequent return and every content update can accumulate along the same line. Conversely, if the positioning wavers—"
He summed up his sentence concisely: "No matter how many resources you have, they will eventually be consumed."
Someone at the main table nodded, as if silently agreeing that "wavering positioning is the most resource-intensive."
Min Hee-jin finally spoke, her tone sharp and probing: "So, what do you think is the easiest mistake to make?"
This seemed to be what she really wanted to ask.
Cao Yisen didn't rush to answer. He first went over the question in his mind: what she wanted was "not to step on any landmines." And the most common landmine in the girl group route is actually only one thing—rushing.
"The easiest mistake to make is to treat girl groups as a 'battle that must be won'."
He answered directly, "Once you get into this mindset, everyone will be eager to make big moves, eager to prove themselves, and eager to surpass others."
"Then two things will happen."
"First, the concepts are becoming increasingly heavy, the content is becoming more and more like submitting an assignment, and the members are becoming more and more like people who have been put in, rather than people who feel like 'living people'."
"Second, the team will be forced to bear too many expectations in a short period of time. As soon as there is any fluctuation, they will start to change direction and narrative, which will waste the most precious period of stability."
He looked up at Min Hee-jin, his tone still calm: "A girl group isn't a knife; it's more like a tree. It may seem slow at first, but if you plant it in the right place, it will grow on its own."
After he finished speaking, there was a two-second silence in the conference room.
Park Ji-eun's expression changed from "help" to "this kid is making it sound so convincing," and there was even a complicated feeling of wanting to laugh but not daring to.
Han Sung-soo then casually interjected, as if to wrap up the conversation or to observe Min Hee-jin's reaction.
"He doesn't sound like someone with a finance background."
Han Shengshou's tone was neither too light nor too heavy, "He sounds more like someone who has worked in marketing."
Cao Yisen's heart skipped a beat, but he didn't show it on his face. He simply replied naturally, "It's probably because I liked looking at case studies when I was in school. It's an occupational hazard."
Min Hee-jin didn't respond to Han Sung-soo's words; she simply looked away and softly hummed in agreement.
That "hmm" didn't sound like praise, nor did it sound like disapproval; it was more like: I'll remember you.
She closed the folder, her tone regaining its usual understated professionalism.
OK.
She said, "Later, your planning team should break down the data into smaller parts, especially user sentiment and the path of fan creation. I want to see something more authentic."
Cao Yisen thought to himself:
He originally thought that by avoiding Red Street, he could quietly give up.
But here, the real risk isn't what you do wrong, but that people notice you "might do the right thing."
Min Hee-jin finally smiled, this time the smile was more obvious, but it was still that professional smile without any warmth.
OK.
She said, "Sit down."
"Thanks."
Cao Yisen nodded and sat back down.
The meeting continued, and the host quickly steered the conversation back to a summary, as if what had just happened was merely a minor incident.
The women in the planning team had already started exchanging glances—the kind of glances that would lead to a group chat to vent as soon as the meeting ended.
Park Ji-eun even gently kicked Cao Yisen's shoe tip under the table, as if scolding him, but also as if praising him: You little rascal, don't scare people.
After Cao Yisen sat down, his expression remained calm, but only he knew that his back had actually been warm.
It wasn't fear, it was excitement.
He hadn't given an impromptu answer in a situation where he was "suddenly called upon" in a long time.
This feeling was so familiar that it made him a little uncomfortable.
He clearly wanted to give up.
But the more he tries to slack off, the more likely he is to be singled out.