Heroine.
“Aaaah!”
Playwright Jeong Yongdae clutched his head and screamed. The script was complete, but casting remained a problem. The role of Baek Muyeol, known as Joseon’s greatest Casanova, had already been assigned to an outstanding actor. But the female lead, who was supposed to be his counterpart, was still undecided.
“Kim Yeonji, Seo Yeonghee, Ahn Jisoo…”
Jeong Yongdae listed the names of actresses currently active in the theater scene. They were undoubtedly actresses with impeccable stage acting skills. However, they didn’t match the image of the play he envisioned. Most were significantly older than Yeongguk, which posed a major issue.
Is there no other choice?
In a way, it was natural. The theater world, unlike dramas and films, was a challenging environment for child actors to thrive in. It lacked commercial appeal and made gaining recognition difficult. Moreover, unlike the screen, actors had to perform directly in front of the audience.
This meant that a certain level of acting skill was required to understand and persuade the audience without any editing. Many theater actors spent years performing minor roles to refine their acting style.
In that sense, Actor Jang Yeongguk was an enigma. Apart from a brief stint on stage as a last-minute replacement, he had neither performed nor studied theater acting.
Initially, Jeong Yongdae doubted his own eyes. How could someone of that age display such acting prowess? Not to mention that this was the theater, not film or drama. Sure, one might say he was born with it.
But.
Jeong Yongdae had lived his entire life as a playwright. He was promising enough to win the Daehan Literature Award[1] and had staged numerous plays. He had encountered many theater actors and prided himself on having a keen eye, sharper than most veteran actors.
But Jang Yeongguk’s performance with the Hyesung Theater Company was reminiscent of the heartfelt acting of someone who had spent a long time in the theater world.
It’s a mystery.
Bang.
Out of habit, playwright Jeong Yongdae grabbed a can of beer from the fridge and took a long swig. The refreshing sensation down his throat finally seemed to clear his mind. The reason for Jeong Yongdae’s deep contemplation was simple.
A perfect picture.
The heroine Jeong Yongdae envisioned was not an ordinary woman. She was the one woman Baek Muyeol, who had captured the hearts of countless women, loved until the end. She was the one who would hear his final confession.
He looked at the last lines of the play he had written.
[(A woman gazes longingly at a man, and the man calmly speaks.)
If people like me pile up and turn to dust, perhaps one day, spring will come to this parched land of Joseon. So, in the next life, let’s have a drink and chat. By then, the scent of spring will fill Joseon. I, Baek Muyeol, have looked only at you my whole life. So don’t be sad. I don’t want to leave you with just painful memories.]
Jeong Yongdae felt a tightness in his chest. Could a man’s confession be so simple, yet so poignant? The stronger the wind, the more clouds move. It’s the story of a wanderer who, like a Casanova, stirred the hearts of many women and passed through life like the wind. Finding the female lead he only looked at until the end was not an easy decision.
“Whew.”
He let out a deep sigh and turned on the TV. No matter how much he thought about it, it wasn’t as if the perfect actress would suddenly fall from the sky. Just as he was about to watch a comedy show to clear his mind…
“Huh?”
Jeong Yongdae’s gaze caught a historical drama on rerun. A young actress was giving a passionate performance. She looked young, but her voice and tone were exceptional. Even her gaze was captivating. Without even knowing what the show was about, Jeong Yongdae found himself unable to look away from the young actress on the screen.
* * *
Sizzle.
In the mansion-like house, the savory aroma of the holiday filled the air. They came from the side dishes Yeongguk had brought up from Namhang. His mother had packed so much for him—various jeon, japchae, galbijjim, tangguk, and seasonal fish—all neatly packed in an icebox for him to share with the teacher and his uncle.
“Wow, hyung, this feels like a real feast today!”
His uncle exclaimed as he picked up a piece of donggeurangttaeng.[2] Though the housekeeper was on holiday, leaving the large mansion empty, the once-quiet home was now bustling again. Grandfather, who had been in the province preparing for his next work, returned, and everyone, including Uncle, gathered in one place.
“Yeongguk, what are you making now?”
Yeongguk was in charge of cooking in the kitchen. It was only natural since his uncle and grandfather’s cooking skills were limited to making instant ramen. On the other hand, Yeongguk had been living on his own for so long that he couldn’t count the years on his fingers. Growing up by the seaside, he could handle just about any fish dish.
“I’m making spicy rockfish stew and octopus sashimi salad.”
He was making a spicy stew with large chunks of radish, Cheongyang peppers, and various seasonings. The fish were freshly caught from a fishing boat, fresher than any restaurant in Seoul. The octopus was so plump that it would be a perfect match with chojang, a dipping sauce, making it a true rice thief.
“Yeongguk, you could be a chef instead of an actor. No, let’s start a business together. How about we call it ‘Yeongguk’s Restaurant’?”
“Why would I want to go bankrupt with you, Uncle?”
“What do you mean, you don’t trust your uncle?”
How could he?
Although Ahn Jeonghyeon was a legendary figure known as a national actor in Korea, he was infamous for his lack of business acumen. In the past, when actors didn’t earn much, many had side jobs, and Ahn Jeonghyeon was no exception.
Maybe that’s why he focused more on acting.
Whatever the case, believing he only needed to get to Seoul, it might have been this belief that paved the way for Ahn Jeonghyeon to become a National Actor. Had he succeeded in business, he might have set aside his acting career.
His grandfather, watching the two bicker, added,
“Your mother packed a lot, Yeongguk. Next time, let’s visit Namhang together to thank her.”
“Really? If I go down with you, grandpa, the ajummas in Namhang will go wild.”
“Me? Not Jeonghyeon?”
“Grandpa, you’re very popular with the ajummas too.”
It wasn’t just flattery. Director Baek Janghun, though a film director, had a masculine and striking appearance that made him quite popular from a young age. As a representative film director of Korea, who wouldn’t like him?
The dining table was then filled with the scents of the holiday and the sea. Ahn Jeonghyeon, while playing with his chopsticks, glanced at Yeongguk and asked,
“Yeongguk, when is The Priest’s Confession going to be released?”
“There are still a few months left in the post-production editing phase.”
“But since it’s rated R, you won’t be able to watch it in the theater, right?”
“Probably not.”
“Wow, in my lifetime, I’ve never seen an actor unable to watch their own movie in the theater. I wonder what nickname you’ll get this time, Yeongguk. Last time, it was the ‘Nation’s First Love.'”
“Uncle, you’re trying to make weird jokes again, aren’t you?”
“Did you catch me? Anyway, when are you planning to start your next project? I heard that playwright Jeong Yongdae went to great lengths to meet you.”
Yeongguk hadn’t mentioned anything about his next project yet. He looked at his uncle with wide eyes. Meeting playwright Jeong Yongdae was something neither his uncle nor even his grandfather knew about. It made sense since his grandfather had been busy preparing for a film shoot. His grandfather also wore a surprised expression as if hearing it for the first time.
“How did you know? I was going to tell you today anyway.”
“Kid, your uncle may look like this, but I’m well-connected. Whether it’s the drama scene, the film scene, or the theater scene, I have eyes and ears everywhere. But a play for your next project, isn’t that interesting, hyung? Most playwrights are so meticulous. I’ve heard from directors who worked with Jeong Yongdae that he’s no joke. I guess that’s why he won the Daehan Literature Award, but I never thought he’d want you as the lead. You’ve never acted in a play before, have you?”
Yeongguk was just as bewildered. He never imagined that a rookie actor who had never properly learned stage acting would be cast as the lead in a play. At that moment, his uncle took a spoonful of spicy rockfish stew and asked,
“So, what role is it this time? From what I’ve seen of Jeong Yongdae’s works, they’re all overflowing with humanism.”
His response drew chuckles from those around him.
“The greatest Casanova of Joseon.”
* * *
New semester.
Yeon Su couldn’t hide her excitement. Her reflection in the mirror beamed with joy. Even the navy-colored school uniform felt fresh. She adjusted her uniform from Sehwa High School and exclaimed,
“Finally!”
She achieved her goal. Ever since she started her high school life in Seoul, she had vowed to herself that she would one day attend this school. Today was the day that promise bore fruit.
Why are there so many eyes on me?
As soon as she arrived at school, seniors and classmates gathered around to see her, as if by magic. Of course, Yeon Su, being a famous child actor with a pretty face, was enough to stir the hearts of many male students. Fortunately, as soon as the bell rang, they disappeared without a trace, like the ebbing tide.
How did oppa manage to live like this?
The middle school Yeon Su attended was an arts school, so there were quite a few students preparing to become singers or actors, and she rarely received such intense attention. Therefore, she wasn’t used to the zoo-like stares from people.
“Yeon Su, do you know a sunbae named Jang Yeongguk?”
Yeon Su nodded briefly at the question from the friend sitting next to her.
“Yumin, are you also a fan of Yeongguk-oppa?”
“Oppa? Of course, I am. I wasn’t really interested at first, but I found out about him because of my dad. He usually doesn’t let me watch TV, telling me to study, but he started watching dramas at home. So, I ended watching some with him, and it was Youth.”
Yeon Su looked at her friend Kim Yumin, who sat next to her. She’s quite pretty, though not as much as Yeon Su. With an awkward smile, Yeon Su asked,
“Did you enroll in Sehwa High School because of that?”
“Huh? Why would you think that? I’m just a fan. I originally planned to attend an international high school, but my dad suddenly told me to enroll in Sehwa High. I didn’t like it at first, but after enrolling, I found out Yeongguk-sunbae was here, and I was happy.”
“Are there a lot of fans of Yeongguk-oppa at school?”
“Don’t you know? There’s even a fan club for Yeongguk-sunbae at Sehwa High. They say when he plays soccer or basketball during lunch, all the girls go out to watch. Plus, he’s so well-mannered that once you fall for him, you can’t get out.”
Manners, my foot.
Yeon Su couldn’t show it on her face, but she couldn’t calm the emotions boiling inside her. Yeongguk surely knew she had enrolled in Sehwa High, yet he hadn’t shown his face. Their last meeting was at the year-end awards ceremony last year. Moreover…
Why are there so many rivals!
On set, when actresses would talk about Yeongguk, she would bite her dry lips. But to not even be able to relax at school, it was a frustrating reality. Even in the mouths of freshmen who hadn’t been in school for a week, Yeongguk’s name was frequently mentioned, so how much more would it be in the future?
Before she knew it, lunchtime came.
“Yeon Su, aren’t you going to eat lunch?”
Her friend Kim Yumin asked, but Yeon Su used the excuse of not feeling well to skip lunch. Then she eagerly headed to the floor where the third-year students were.
* * *
The harsh winter had faded, giving way to spring in the schoolyard. The faces of students starting a new semester were filled with excitement. With the change of classes, another change also came. Some of his friends, knowing that their high school life was nearing its end, were focused on studying. But Yeongguk was lying on the rooftop during lunch, staring at the sky.
I’m already nineteen.
He had turned nineteen. Compared to his previous life, where he lived into middle age, he was still quite young, but it felt like he had spent a long time because his life’s direction had changed. If his memories of school in his past life were filled with unpleasantness, his current life was…
Happy.
He was grateful, not only because he was living the life of an actor once again, but also for being able to meet his mother again. The warm spring sunlight soaked his shoulders. Yeongguk held up the script given to him by Writer Jeong. Holding it up while lying down, the script blocks the sun, making it more vivid in his view.
“Baek Muyeol.”
The play Spring of Joseon, written by playwright Jeong Yongdae, was a truly complex work. On the surface, it seemed like the biography of a playboy who spread rumors with countless women, but when you delved into it, it contained deeper sorrows than any other work. That’s what made it even more troubling.
He’s a more complex character than I thought.
It was a role he had never taken on in his past life. The protagonist Baek Muyeol, who embodied the joys and sorrows of life, was both cheerful and sad. It was the actor’s job to present all these dualities to the audience on the stage. Yeongguk was also curious about the character who would be Baek Muyeol’s first and last love.
Who will take on that role?
It was a role that required as much delicate acting as the protagonist, Baek Muyeol. But when he thought about all the actors with outstanding theatrical skills, the age difference with himself was a concern. Since the audience’s eyes were the camera, it had to be intuitive, and if there was a significant age difference, it would surely break the immersion.
Yeongguk recited the last lines of the script.
[If people like me pile up and turn to dust, perhaps one day, spring will come to this parched land of Joseon. So, in the next life, let’s have a drink and chat. By then, the scent of spring will fill Joseon. I, Baek Muyeol, have looked only at you my whole life. So don’t be sad. I don’t want to leave you with just painful memories.]
Poignant yet simple.
It was then that the door to the rooftop, which had been his own world, suddenly burst open.
“Oppa!”
[1] Daehan (대한) essentially means “Korean,” especially in more formal context. It is an abbreviation of Daehan Minguk (대한민국), which is the formal name of South Korea, meaning “The Republic of Korea.”
[2] Donggeurangttaeng is a type of meat fritter.
