I Acted Once, and Now They Call Me a Genius - Chapter 239

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 239
It was cold.
That was Seon-woo’s impression after Yi Bang-won’s heart had descended completely into winter.
It was a cold that nothing could console. Even if Yun-kyeong… no, Won-gyeong held him and tried to comfort him, this cold would never thaw.
‘How could anyone live a life so cold.’
In truth, he already knew the answer.
It hadn’t been a choice. Life’s current had simply carried him here. He had walked only what he thought was always the right path, and this—this was where that rightness led.
Seon-woo raised his hands and rubbed both arms. Somehow this chill seemed to freeze even his flesh.
Watching him, Yun-kyeong spoke.
“Seon-woo.”
“Ah, yes.”
“Thanks to you, it was fun.”
Yun-kyeong pulled Seon-woo into an embrace.
It was an embrace he hadn’t quite expected. While Seon-woo froze for a moment, Yun-kyeong continued softly.
“If you hadn’t given me the chance to feel that pressure… Won-gyeong wouldn’t have survived this far.”
“…That’s true.”
Seon-woo nodded in agreement.
It was the right thing to say. The character of Won-gyeong had truly come alive because she had taken on the role of resolving the last hesitation that dwelt in Yi Bang-won’s heart.
Of course, the script had assigned her that role as well, but even with the same lines, the story transformed entirely depending on what emotional arc carried the words.
Po-eun must die. Saying it with worry and saying it with conviction were absolutely never the same.
But Seon-woo was equally grateful to Yun-kyeong.
“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been able to resolve my own feelings either.”
“Did you manage to sort things out?”
“Yes, quite a lot.”
There are things you cannot know merely by reading a script.
The moment Seon-woo heard Won-gyeong’s voice, the instant he heard those words—*you know the answer*—the last attachment lingering in Yi Bang-won’s heart tore away completely.
“It feels like there’s no more regret left now.”
The conclusion had been reached.
To be honest, Seon-woo hadn’t known they would film the Seonjuk Bridge scene with this emotional arc. He’d thought Yi Bang-won would struggle far more, right to the very end. But to face Jeong Mong-ju with his heart already fully resolved like this—
“Seong Jun-il might be taken aback.”
That was Yun-kyeong speaking.
She was already nodding knowingly, as though she could already foresee the mood on set.
“What he was expecting was probably ‘Join me or die!’ But now it’s more like ‘You won’t join me, will you? I knew it. Die.’ It’s just… the feeling of an execution?”
“That’s how it’ll be. And our Yeong-gyu will carry out that execution.”
“Haha, trust me! I’ll send off Seong Jun-il properly!”
“…No, that’s exactly the problem—you can’t send off Seong Jun-il. You have to send off Jeong Mong-ju.”
Kim Yeon-jun had a habit of wanting to send off Seong Jun-il.
Regardless, Seon-woo felt the moment was tinged with a profound emotion.
From the moment he first took on this project, the most crucial scene he’d thought about was this one—sending off Jeong Mong-ju.
It was a climax worthy of the name within the work itself, so Seon-woo had to give everything.
‘If all I’ve built until now hadn’t existed…’
Perhaps at this moment Seon-woo would have been quite anxious.
At first, he’d thought he simply couldn’t understand or handle all of Yi Bang-won’s emotions and convictions.
But now he understood.
There were things visible only after walking through all these emotions and worries.
So now, facing Jeong Mong-ju was no longer frightening.
Borrowing Kim Yeon-jun’s phrasing slightly…
He was ready to send him away.
* * *
Seong Jun-il hadn’t seen any of Seon-woo’s recent acting.
Seo Tae-rok had blocked him from it.
It would be better for Jeong Mong-ju not to know what emotional arc Yi Bang-won was traversing.
For Seong Jun-il, this was somewhat puzzling.
‘…What on earth is Yi Bang-won’s atmosphere right now?’
The fact that Seo Tae-rok blocked him suggested that Yi Bang-won would show an emotional arc in some unexpected direction.
Probably by limiting his exposure to that arc as much as possible, they wanted to draw a more raw reaction from Jeong Mong-ju.
But what exactly that emotional arc was, Seong Jun-il couldn’t even guess.
Just how remarkable was this arc, to warrant blocking him from even seeing the filming site…
‘Kim Seon-woo…’
Thinking of that name, a smile naturally bloomed on Seong Jun-il’s lips.
The shock of first seeing Kim Seon-woo was still vivid. A young prodigy without any formal acting training, yet displaying an immersion ability far greater than many established actors.
When confronted with that pure talent crystallized, Seong Jun-il had felt genuine desire.
I want to nurture this child. That was the desire he’d felt.
…But the reason he hadn’t indulged that desire was simple.
Some raw gems shine brighter precisely when left unpolished.
He thought that clumsy handling out of greed might actually ruin Seon-woo. And the path Seon-woo had taken since then… confirmed that it was fortunate Seong Jun-il hadn’t reached out then.
From Red Zone to My Jade, Seon-woo had shown a truly beautiful trajectory.
And what he was showing now in Yeokjeok needed no further words.
Seon-woo had grown to a point where it was hard to believe he was the same person from a year ago.
It wasn’t just as an actor.
Seong Jun-il still remembered Seon-woo’s old gaze. Those eyes that shimmered yet harbored some unease, hollow and vacant inside.
He’d tried to mask that emptiness with the light of passion and dreams, but that futility was inevitably laid bare.
But what of Seon-woo now?
Seon-woo was no longer hollow like before. You could see it at a glance. His life had become far more full than it once was.
It seemed that the life of an actor had fostered his growth in many directions.
That brought him joy.
In this entertainment industry where countless lives are ground away, to see someone instead finding happiness and completing themselves… it was deeply hopeful.
‘Now it’s my turn to show something.’
Seong Jun-il slowly cleared his mind of distractions.
Seon-woo didn’t need worry. He was clearly the kind of child who would handle things well on his own. What kind of Yi Bang-won he’d prepared, that was curious, but he’d find out soon enough.
Seong Jun-il focused on Jeong Mong-ju’s mental image.
When Seo Tae-rok had entrusted Jeong Mong-ju to Seong Jun-il, he asked for one thing only.
‘From now on, you must become Goryeo.’
Become Goryeo.
It was a grand request, but Seong Jun-il understood what Seo Tae-rok meant. The role he’d been given was none other than Jeong Mong-ju.
Jeong Mong-ju was Goryeo’s hope.
Goryeo endured because Jeong Mong-ju existed, and likewise, Goryeo collapsed because Jeong Mong-ju died.
As such, both Jeong Mong-ju’s life and death had to signify Goryeo’s life and death.
From the moment he received that request, Seong Jun-il began to study Goryeo.
To become Goryeo, he had to understand Goryeo.
Goryeo’s clothing, eating habits, etiquette, culture… Seong Jun-il studied and accepted everything about Goryeo indiscriminately.
If you asked whether he truly became Goryeo through all this, he’d have no answer.
But this much he could say.
Thanks to it, he had come to love Goryeo.
Everything begins with love.
The moment he came to love Goryeo, every aspect of Jeong Mong-ju began to bloom with greater dimension.
This country that gave him birth and raised him—Goryeo.
I wish to protect this beautiful land.
That feeling grew ever larger. And Seong Jun-il came to understand that this feeling was Jeong Mong-ju himself.
That this feeling was Goryeo.
‘…Ah.’
His chest ached.
As his love for Goryeo grew, so too did the sorrow. For Jeong Mong-ju knew better than anyone that this country was sick, dying.
Once, Jeong Mong-ju had thought Yi Bang-won was the last hope given to Goryeo.
The final chance for Goryeo to right itself.
But the moment he learned that even this Yi Bang-won harbored the treason of Joseon, Jeong Mong-ju’s heart had no choice but to crumble.
…And yet, though his heart crumbles, Jeong Mong-ju does not.
For his collapse would mean Goryeo’s collapse.
The more Seong Jun-il dwelt on Jeong Mong-ju’s heart, the more his eyes began to burn with fierce intensity.
Rage at this lamentable reality, and a grim determination to see it through at any cost.
Because of this, even the staff members and his own manager began to quietly keep their distance from Seong Jun-il.
‘…It’s been a while since I’ve seen Jun-il immerse himself like this.’
It must mean his attachment to this project and role was profound.
And perhaps the fact that his acting partner this time was Seon-woo was another reason for Seong Jun-il’s excitement.
Junior… well, it’s not quite right to call him that, but in any case, to reunite like this with someone he’d first encountered when acting was just beginning was quite romantic.
The manager swallowed.
Kim Seon-woo. When first seen, just another common newcomer actor, but now his weight class had shifted entirely.
On the Yeokjeok filming set alone, people’s eyes gleamed differently whenever they spoke of Kim Seon-woo.
The pillar that would lead Korea’s film industry into the future, they said.
Everyone talked about it.
The moment Kim Seon-woo appeared, the quality of the scene transformed. Everything captured through the lens seemed to become richer by several degrees.
‘If that friend works alongside his senior…’
What sort of remarkable scene would be born.
An actor’s market value is determined by their filmography, but an actor’s image is determined by their scenes. That single unforgettable moment burned into the audience’s mind… becomes their lasting impression of that actor.
Naturally, Seong Jun-il, with his long career, had many such memorable scenes, but… lately it was true that no scene had emerged to overwhelm all that had come before.
The manager harbored one hope.
That this scene between Yi Bang-won and Jeong Mong-ju would become a famous scene the audience could never forget their entire lives.
That it would become the catalyst for actor Seong Jun-il to regain vitality and burn anew.
And that hope was swiftly fulfilled.
“…Did you come to kill me?”
A dark night.
Jeong Mong-ju’s footsteps halt as he tries to cross the bridge.
Yi Bang-won stood on the far side.
But in that moment, it wasn’t only Jeong Mong-ju’s footsteps that stilled.
The breath of all who witnessed their confrontation ceased as well. The palpable tension was utterly suffocating, overwhelming the audience.
“No.”
And in this moment, the manager became certain.
The audience would remember this scene forever.
It’s cold. Winter hasn’t come yet, but a chill runs through the entire body. It was inevitable. At this moment, Yi Bang-won, gazing expressionlessly at Jeong Mong-ju… wore an aura so frigid it was nearly impossible to meet his eyes.
Lungs frozen, hair standing on end, skin prickling as if burned.
“I’ve come to end Goryeo.”
There stood winter wearing the shape of a man.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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