Free Web NovelThere was a stillness to Noh Jeongyeon’s acting that ruled the space.
The final moments of a well-refined Buddhist nun carried a gravity that forced anyone watching into solemn silence.
In reality, once it aired, Noh Jeongyeon’s screen time would be less than ten minutes.
Even so, it was certain that to the viewers who watched Episode 1 of <Strange Tales>, Noh Jeongyeon would deliver a clear message.
I’m glad I chose this drama.
Noh Jeongyeon’s gaze was not directed at the camera lens.
It wasn’t because she wasn’t supposed to make eye contact with the viewers beyond the screen.
It was because Jeongan worried about Seoryeong even at the moment of her death.
Even as her neck snapped from pain, even as she doubled over from agony that felt like her intestines were being twisted inside out.
As if thinking of someone, she desperately lifted her head.
Bang-.
Her body slowly collapsed, and when Jeongan finally lay on the ground and stopped breathing.
“....”
Director Jang did not dare to call cut.
* * *
Noh Jeongyeon rinsed her mouth with water and smiled playfully. She didn’t look like someone who had just portrayed Jeongan’s brutal death moments ago.
The fake blood still smeared around her lips was the only proof that she had been Jeongan.
“Chick, did you watch properly?”
“Yes, Professor. It was the best performance I’ve ever seen.”
“Then tell Bitgang exactly that! She’ll be so annoyed she won’t be able to sleep.”
Noh Jeongyeon laughed as she rubbed her rough, closely shaved head with one hand. She had shaved her hair for a role that barely amounted to any screen time.
“It’s great she’s making a comeback, but taking all the attention I could’ve gotten too? Honestly, how annoying. Why do I have to look so pure that I can’t even play Yeomga? Such a waste of a role.”
She complained jokingly, while thinking something else inside.
That’s not the only thing that’s a waste.
When you get old, you start waking up early. That applied not only to Geum Bitgang, but to Noh Jeongyeon as well.
In the early dawn, on Han Yeoreum’s stage that was meant only for Geum Bitgang, there was one more audience member.
To think the only scenes I share with the chick are one send-off and one corpse....
Geum Bitgang had only seen the back of Han Yeoreum limping away, but Noh Jeongyeon, watching from beyond the window, could see Yeoreum’s profile.
The resentment of parents forced to pass poverty onto their child.
The shame of working until their hands blistered, only to remain stuck in the same place forever.
The bitterness toward a child who could never understand such a life.
All of it was packed densely onto that small face.
That was why Noh Jeongyeon had called Han Yeoreum over early.
I’m a great actor too, just like Bitgang!
She wanted to show the chick what kind of actor Noh Jeongyeon was. And sure enough, the look in Yeoreum’s eyes had clearly changed.
Suppressing her quiet satisfaction, Noh Jeongyeon walked on calmly.
Now it was her turn to watch Yeoreum.
The scene before Seoryeong discovers Jeongan’s body. The moment where Seoryeong returns home.
“Jeongan! Look what I brought!”
Out of breath from running in excitement, Seoryeong flung open the old wooden door and hurriedly untied her bundle.
Then she lifted a pair of flower shoes high.
“Look at these! Please throw away those beggar shoes already and wear these now. Aren’t they pretty? Pretty enough to make you forget all that nonsense about non-possession?”
With a proud expression, Seoryeong turned her head around while holding the shoes. Irritation crept into her face as she looked for Jeongan.
“Jeongan? Where are you?”
The camera slowly followed Seoryeong and adjusted focus toward the corner.
A single sheet of white paper placed on a small, rickety table.
Jeongan’s will.
“Jeongan-!”
Without noticing the will, Seoryeong called Jeongan’s name impatiently.
The house was too small to hide in. Still holding the flower shoes, Seoryeong went back outside. She lingered by the doorway, then slowly walked toward the back of the house.
“Jeongan-. I said I’m back-.”
This was the moment Seoryeong was supposed to discover Jeongan’s body.
The corpse had not yet been placed on set. With nothing in front of her, Yeoreum had to wear the expression of someone witnessing death.
Let’s see how good you really are-.
Watching Yeoreum through the monitor, Noh Jeongyeon curled the corner of her lips upward.
If she’s bad, I can always go lie down there first.
Whether an actor has someone to immerse into or not makes a massive difference. Even veteran actors, when struggling to grasp emotions, often had their scene partners stay with them even if they wouldn’t appear on screen.
Knowing this, Noh Jeongyeon deliberately stayed by the director’s side and watched Yeoreum.
And what settled on Seoryeong’s face when she saw Jeongan’s body was—
“Jeongan...?”
Confusion.
Like a young animal that couldn’t comprehend death, Seoryeong stared blankly at Jeongan.
As if this couldn’t be real. As if she didn’t understand.
What...?
Noh Jeongyeon was startled. Yeoreum’s face filling the screen was utterly blank, making Jeongan’s death feel even more overwhelming.
The scene continued, shifting to a shot where both of them appeared in frame together.
Still holding onto that small doubt, Noh Jeongyeon lay back down in the place where Jeongan had died earlier.
Cold, dry soil touched her skin. She acted as a corpse with eyes still open.
At the call of cut, Seoryeong slowly crouched down toward Jeongan. Holding the flower shoes, she lifted her other hand and gently shook ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) Jeongan.
“Jeongan.”
The hand pretending to be calm seemed to beg her not to do this.
“Jeongan.”
Please don’t die and leave me behind.
“I brought flower shoes....”
Despite the blood she had vomited and her eyes remaining open, Seoryeong brought her face close to Jeongan.
It was the movement of a young animal that absolutely refused to accept death.
“They’re really nice. They were really expensive.”
Seoryeong slowly sat down beside Jeongan, as if believing that if she waited, Jeongan would wake up.
To keep tears from falling from her open eyes, Noh Jeongyeon bit down hard on her tongue.
How could anyone close their eyes leaving a child like that behind? She finally understood why people said such things.
“Jeongan....”
She couldn’t close her eyes.
The chick in front of her made even a veteran of veterans unable to do so.
Noh Jeongyeon exerted every ounce of effort to hide the storm of emotions raging inside her.
She couldn’t even begin to imagine how much Han Yeoreum would grow over the remaining fifteen episodes. The thought that she wouldn’t be able to watch that growth up close made her resentful.
Something burned fiercely inside Noh Jeongyeon.
It was unmistakably jealousy.
She became certain that Geum Bitgang had chosen her comeback project far too well.
* * *
Today was Han Yeoreum and Kwon Junhyeok’s first scene together. Because they needed to quickly get through the shoot at the old cabin, Yeoreum’s schedule had been set earliest.
“Junhyeok! We’re here!”
“Yeah....”
“Are you crying?”
“I’m not crying....”
“...What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you crying?”
The manager gripping the steering wheel twisted around to look at the back seat. He was so flustered that his upper body nearly came out of the seat.
“Why aren’t you crying?”
That’s right.
Today, Kwon Junhyeok really wasn’t crying.
“It’s your first shoot. Aren’t you scared? Nervous? Tense?”
“Hyung... I’m not someone who cries all the time.”
“What are you talking about! You are that kind of person!”
“I’m saving it up so I can cry all at once.”
Junhyeok said proudly, looking at his manager.
Time rewound a few days.
When Han Yeoreum came to the <Do It and It Works> Action Academy to learn running techniques, she greeted Kwak Cheolsik warmly.
“Hello! It’s been a while, senior-.”
“Oh. Our little colt’s here?”
“Our senior seems to have a pronunciation problem. You meant puppy, right?”
“I almost died young drinking the alcohol you gave me back then. Colt.”
Thanks to filming <Law-Faster-than>, the two already looked extremely close.
“Actor-! I’ve heard so much about you. Are we really going full Spartan today?”
“Of course. Don’t go easy on me—teach me hard.”
Yeoreum also quickly bonded with Kang Hanseong, the martial arts director of <Do It and It Works>. Peering down at her through the crack of the second-floor training room door, Kwon Junhyeok was filled with admiration.
She’s good....
Getting close to people, blending into situations, using her body—Han Yeoreum was good at all of it.
“Elbow angle has to stay alive! Don’t let it wobble!”
Every time the martial arts director spoke once, Yeoreum understood immediately. She really knew how to use her body lightly.
Even her single step forward....
She walked with her weight centered on her toes, and when she ran, she widened her stride and leapt high.
The Seoryeong Yeoreum was creating truly resembled a cat. Even when her breathing should have been strained, she delivered her lines.
And yet, Geum Bitgang and Noh Jeongyeon still only gave her ninety points.
Not a hundred....
If that was the case, then Kwon Junhyeok—who hadn’t even found his own Myungdo yet, let alone managed proper acting—wouldn’t get ninety points. Nine points would already be generous.
“What do I do....”
Closing the slightly open door, Junhyeok slid down against the wall and sat. His eyes grew wet again.
He wiped away his tears out of habit with the back of his hand. His hands were torn and cracked beyond recognition. Tears seeped into the wounds and stung sharply.
His vision blurred with tears.
“What are you doing here?”
At that moment, a clear voice rang out.
When you’re too shocked, you can’t even speak. Seeing Han Yeoreum sitting beside him, Junhyeok lost his words.
“Uh... um... how did you know I was here?”
“Of course I knew. You’ve been staring at me nonstop for a while. I’m someone who never misses even a single gaze that recognizes me. A properly prepared actor, you could say.”
Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Yeoreum grinned.
“I’m going to drink some water.”
She grabbed Junhyeok’s tumbler and gulped down the water. From the looks of it, training was basically over for the day.
“But Kwon Junhyeok, you cry really well.”
“I’m sorry....”
“No need to apologize. That’s a talent too. Top-tier crying acting. Five stars.”
It was the first time he’d ever heard that crying was a talent.
Sitting beside him, Yeoreum spoke seriously.
“There are tons of actors on set who can’t cry, so they bring sticks and sprays and force themselves to cry like crocodiles.”
“Really...?”
“Yeah. Really. But you cry well, Junhyeok. Scenes with tears will probably come out great. As for the rest, we can handle it together!”
Together. She said together.
“Who am I?”
“...Han Yeoreum....”
“No, not that. Add a modifier.”
“Rookie actress?”
“That’s right. A rookie actress who won the Jury Special Award at the Seoul Drama Awards, achieved a whopping 247% Blu-ray sales rate with a web drama, and even had one whole fan attend the award ceremony... Ah, my career’s already this long even though I just debuted. Let’s skip ahead. And you?”
“I’m an idol... but I’ve won a lot of awards too, I have self-composed songs... I’m kind of a skilled idol....”
With an expression that said she wasn’t joking at all, Yeoreum told him,
“No. Now you’re a rookie actor too.”
From the first floor, the director’s voice called for Yeoreum. Break time seemed to be over.
“Let’s do well. As fellow rookies.”
She stood up and held her fist out toward Junhyeok. Without thinking, he bumped his battered fist against her small one.
“See you on set!”
Yeoreum disappeared with light steps. Junhyeok clenched his scarred fist tightly.
Fellow rookie actors.
For some reason, those words gave him courage. Kwon Junhyeok picked up the wooden sword again.
* * *
And so, the first scene the two leads filmed together was a meal at a tavern.
Because they weren’t close yet, the cautious tension between them felt natural.
“....”
“....”
Even after finishing her own bowl of rice soup, Seoryeong stared intently at Myungdo’s bowl. Feeling her gaze, Myungdo pretended not to notice and continued eating.
With an irritated expression, Seoryeong raised her hand and called the tavern owner.
“Hey-. Madam!”
“Yes? Would you like to order something more?”
Seoryeong swiftly reached into Myungdo’s robe and pulled out money, then paid the owner an amount worth several bowls of rice soup.
“Shall I bring another bowl? Or some alcohol?”
“What do you think you’re doing—.” freewebnøvel.coɱ
Seoryeong’s eyes gleamed again as she spoke.
“Judging by the look of it, this tavern doesn’t seem like it’ll last long. It feels like it’ll close soon, and my heart aches for it.”
It was an unmistakable provocation.
