I Acted Once, and Now They Call Me a Genius - Chapter 180
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 180
While preparing for I-mu-gi, Seon-woo often met with Go Yu-na.
The location was always the study room.
And Yeon-woo, who heard about this, started showing up saying she wanted to join them at some point.
Of course, the atmosphere was…
“Wow, senior! What’s going on? Why are you so pretty today? Do you have a date or something?”
“Oh my, thank you. Was I that pretty? I only put on basic makeup before coming out.”
Not very pleasant.
They were smiling brightly at each other and exchanging only nice words… but there was a subtle thorn felt in those words.
An ambiguous feeling where you couldn’t tell if they were being wary of each other or keeping each other in check.
‘To be precise, it feels like Yeon-woo is slightly being played by Yu-na.’
Indeed, the entertainment industry experience accumulated since her child actor days didn’t seem to go anywhere.
Whenever Yeon-woo tried to subtly probe her, Go Yu-na had the ability to respond calmly and instead make Yeon-woo shut her mouth.
For example, it was like this:
“And I have a date later. I’m going on a date with Seon-woo. Jealous?”
“…”
Making such absurd and childish statements with such a nonchalant expression, even Yeon-woo couldn’t find a proper response.
Come to think of it, that made sense.
Yeon-woo always calculated her words and actions based on data accumulated through experience.
For such a person, Go Yu-na’s free-spirited words and actions like that would be something she had never experienced before.
It meant she needed more time to calculate.
“I feel like we’re not in a study session but came out of a dating show.”
“Oh my, do we look that good together?”
“…Senior.”
In that sense, Seon-woo was the only person who could control Go Yu-na in this situation.
Seon-woo swallowed a sigh and looked at Go Yu-na.
“You read the materials I gave you last time, right?”
“…Well, I didn’t read all of it.”
“I told you it would be good to read the Yeo-ui-ju related materials if nothing else. If Yeo-ui-ju symbolizes the dragon’s power in China, in Korea Yeo-ui-ju means the dragon’s qualification. So from now on, senior, you need to become my qualification.”
“No, I can act without having to study all that…!”
“Then don’t come here.”
“…You’re really cold.”
Go Yu-na pouted her lips.
Usually when she made advances like this, people would either push her away or giggle happily – one of the two… but Seon-woo’s reaction was unconventional in many ways.
It felt like: you can flirt, I’ll focus on acting.
…No, in some ways it seemed more like: you can spout nonsense, I’ll act.
‘No, this isn’t quite nonsense!’
Go Yu-na shook her head inwardly.
Still, this was her way of keeping some boundaries for herself. Well, Seon-woo probably wouldn’t agree with that.
But Go Yu-na wasn’t coming here for no reason while being treated like this.
She had a clear purpose.
Was her purpose to seduce Seon-woo? Well, it would be a lie to say she had no interest in that aspect… but that was just a minor part.
‘I wanted to see it.’
People who like acting are common.
In fact, how many people in this industry have survived without genuine passion for acting?
But even compared to other actors, there was an area where Seon-woo stood out uniquely.
Talent? No.
Looks? That wasn’t it either.
Seon-woo looked happy when acting.
That was fascinating.
Liking acting and enjoying it are completely different things.
The more you like it, the more you want to do better, and the more you want to do better, the more pressure builds up.
What started as something purely enjoyable eventually feels like the most difficult and painful thing. This is probably something most actors have experienced.
Is it because he’s still a newcomer?
That’s not it. There are people who feel even greater pressure because they’re newcomers. This is probably just Seon-woo’s inherent temperament.
Even that pressure is enjoyable for him.
‘How is that possible?’
Even when Go Yu-na really loved acting, she wasn’t as happy as Seon-woo.
She was always scared. What if there’s an NG? What if the public doesn’t like it? Because of such worries.
But Seon-woo seemed free from such worries.
That’s why she wanted to observe him more. There was also the expectation that maybe if she stayed by this man’s side, she too could feel those fresh emotions again.
‘But why did she come here?’
At first, when Yeon-woo suddenly said she was coming here, she wondered if there was some special relationship between her and Seon-woo.
But no matter how she looked at it, that didn’t seem to be the case. There wasn’t even a hint of romance between the two. They were still using formal speech with each other.
So she came because of acting, but she didn’t seem very interested in Seon-woo’s style of acting study either.
Just looking at right now,
“Ah, I don’t think I need to know this kind of stuff.”
Yeon-woo drew a clear line while watching Seon-woo explain the academic discussion about why gumiho mainly appear as women.
“I’ll just act based on what I feel.”
If that’s the case, then why did she even come here in the first place?
This was something Seon-woo was curious about too. When Go Yu-na wasn’t around, Seon-woo asked Yeon-woo what her exact reason for coming here was. And Yeon-woo answered like this.
“At first, it seemed like you might need help.”
It was an unexpected response.
Weren’t psychopaths the type of people who didn’t care at all whether others needed help or not?
But with Yeon-woo’s following words, Seon-woo could understand.
“If that senior clumsily bothers you and ruins the atmosphere on set, the work’s performance would suffer too, right? Then I’d also end up losing an opportunity to build my career.”
Yeon-woo held up three fingers.
“Thirty.”
“…Thirty?”
“I’m going to make as much money as possible and retire at thirty. To do that, I can’t afford to make any missteps. I have to work hard to earn money.”
…It was a very Yeon-woo-like reason in many ways.
Seon-woo looked at Yeon-woo with a subtle expression. He suddenly thought that although her motives were quite impure, in any case, Yeon-woo might be better than most other people in that she was consistent.
Even Do-young was currently struggling with being stuck in mannerism, but her eyes were still burning brightly with thoughts of making money.
In a way, she might have the purest soul here in various meanings.
In the end, Seon-woo nodded his head.
Whatever Yeon-woo’s motives were, he could feel that she was trying to do good acting.
“That’s good.”
“Right?”
“It would be even better if you did a little research on academic papers with me. There are really many interesting folktales about nine-tailed foxes…”
“…Seon-woo, you’re surprisingly the clingy type, aren’t you?”
Seon-woo’s expression became dejected.
But Yeon-woo didn’t care and shook her head.
“Not buying it.”
Yeon-woo was certainly good at drawing clear lines.
* * *
Time passed, and it was the day to film the intro for [My Jade].
At the filming location situated by the West Sea, Jeong Yu-jun spoke with an anxious voice.
“Now, Writer. This… will be okay, right? Yes? Right?”
“That’s something you should know, PD. How would I know?”
“Ugh… I’m asking because I don’t know either!”
Seo Ji-hye let out a sigh.
What kind of PD was so faint-hearted?
Seo Ji-hye’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s why I came here for you. Since you said you needed mental management, even though it’s hot, I came personally.”
“…I’m really grateful for that.”
Jeong Yu-jun bowed his head.
And he sighed and spoke.
“Seon-woo… will be okay, right?”
“He’ll be fine since we cast him. What’s the point of worrying now?”
“That’s true. His acting is now really at a level beyond words. His star quality seems certain too. But…”
“You’re not sure if he can handle the lead role?”
“Yes…”
Worry appeared on Jeong Yu-jun’s expression.
“I believe he’ll do well, but there’s this subtle feeling. Something that only leads have, somewhere perfect yet with the most important final piece dangling precariously… that precarious feeling like everything would collapse if you removed it. Ah, it would be good to create an appropriate term for this. Anyway, I wish I could feel that…”
“You didn’t feel that?”
“No.”
“But that’s inevitable.”
Seo Ji-hye answered as if it were obvious.
Jeong Yu-jun looked back at Seo Ji-hye with a flustered expression.
“Why, why? Is there a problem?”
“A problem… it could be a problem. You said earlier that an appropriate term was needed, right? I think that’s humanity. No matter how perfect a human seems, they inevitably have flaws. Those flaws are what make you think, ‘This person is also human like me.'”
“…Then maybe the problem is that Seon-woo is acting too well.”
Jeong Yu-jun nodded his head.
“Because he’s too much like I-mu-gi… that human feeling is less noticeable.”
“It would be difficult. To be I-mu-gi-like, he shouldn’t feel human, but then the charm that a drama protagonist should have wouldn’t appeal properly.”
Seo Ji-hye shrugged her shoulders.
“He’ll have to give up one of the two to some extent. I’m a bit curious about how he’ll act.”
“…Ha, if it doesn’t seem right, we’ll have to go for retakes, won’t we?”
Jeong Yu-jun made a tearful face.
“If there are many reshoots from the beginning, it’ll be bad for morale too.”
“Then just pretend not to notice and let it slide.”
“That, that won’t do!”
Jeong Yu-jun shook his head.
Although he was someone who would usually let most things slide saying “whatever’s good is good,” there were still parts he couldn’t compromise on.
…If he had compromised on things like this too, it probably would have been difficult to continue working at the broadcasting station.
Jeong Yu-jun clenched his fist tightly.
“If it doesn’t seem right… I’ll speak to him sternly.”
“Harshly?”
“…It’s not like I’m going to say anything aggressively, but we’ll keep doing retakes until we get a good shot!”
There was no choice.
Other scenes might be different, but this was essentially the intro shoot that would be the face of the work.
They couldn’t film it carelessly.
The intro was in a classic style.
As I-mu-gi, who had been training for over a thousand years to become a dragon, monologues about needing to find the Yeo-ui-ju… the screen shows the various forms the Yeo-ui-ju had taken so far.
The Yeo-ui-ju sometimes appeared in the form of a hairpin, sometimes as a bead, and sometimes as a tree.
But whenever I-mu-gi tried to find and obtain that Yeo-ui-ju, due to interference from other monsters or bad luck, I-mu-gi ultimately failed to obtain the Yeo-ui-ju.
And I-mu-gi, thoroughly poisoned by those long failures, stands on the sea vowing that this time he will definitely obtain the Yeo-ui-ju… that whatever form it takes, he will never let it slip away again.
And immediately after, by showing a golden aura settling on a baby, hinting that this time’s Yeo-ui-ju is in human form, [My Jade] officially raises its curtain.
During the script reading, Seon-woo had delivered this scene’s narration very dryly.
A parched voice as if he cared about nothing other than becoming a dragon.
It was hard to find any emotion other than irritation and anger at himself for failing to obtain the Yeo-ui-ju so far.
And while that was truly I-mu-gi-like acting, it wasn’t dramatic at the same time.
That was the reason he had asked Seon-woo to adjust his acting a bit.
It was fine for such an emotional line to come out in specific scenes… but overall, I-mu-gi’s gravitas needed to be a bit lighter.
‘I wonder if Seon-woo understood properly…’
Jeong Yu-jun looked up at Seon-woo sitting in the filming chair.
Wearing black robes and even a long wig to express the Joseon period setting. That appearance was so picturesque that Jeong Yu-jun couldn’t help but admire it anew.
‘Later, taking Seon-woo to film a fusion historical drama would make for good visuals.’
But now wasn’t the time to think about this.
Jeong Yu-jun looked up at the sky. The sun had already set beyond the West Sea. But it needed to set more.
When that faint cluster of light coloring the edge of the night sky disappeared, the most suitable background for filming this scene would be secured.
“PD, shall we get ready soon?”
“No, just a moment.”
Jeong Yu-jun shook his head.
“20 minutes… no, please wait about 15 more minutes.”
And 15 minutes later.
When the night sky finally darkened to exactly the level Jeong Yu-jun wanted.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes! Everyone, please standby!”
With the staff’s call, everyone moved in perfect coordination.
“Sound ready.”
“Camera rolling.”
“Mark!”
And Seon-woo moved.
Seon-woo stood at the edge of the wave-crashing beach. In a spot where the occasionally surging waves would sweep right at his feet.
Looking at Seon-woo’s face illuminated by the lighting, Jeong Yu-jun’s expression grew serious.
The anxious and worried feelings were still there, but now wasn’t the time to focus on those feelings.
Now he had to trust Seon-woo and leave it to him.
‘I forgot the heart-calming pills.’
Feeling the pounding sound of his heart’s beat, Jeong Yu-jun slowly opened his mouth.
There was nothing more to worry about or be concerned with now.
“Ready…”
For now, let’s see the acting.
“Cue!”
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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