CHAPTER 026: Naming
CHAPTER 026: Naming
Ahead of the variety shoot, I called my father.
Only after the ringtone sounded a few times did his curt voice come through.
-Are you allowed to call me right now?
“Huh? What do you mean?”
-If I talk to you on the phone, won’t I get arrested too? Then I won’t even be able to hold my head up around the neighborhood.
“…Dad, did you watch episode 2 with the villagers?”
-…Yeah. You could’ve told me in advance.
“If I told you in advance, the twist wouldn’t be fun. And it’s acting anyway.”
-Old folks don’t know that. If you come out on TV as a bad guy, you’re just a bad guy.
Looks like he’s properly sulking.
Times like this, I had to soothe him aggressively.
“Later I’ll come by with black goat extract. Hand out a box each. Tell them your actor son bought it for you.”
-Kyah! That’s my son, alright. Smart. You’re taking down the black goat, the symbol of the devil, and proving you’re a good guy. But I already knew my son was a good guy from long ago.
…
That means you don’t need black goat extract.
His philosophy is that anything you eat just to turn into poop isn’t a suitable gift.
Then—
“I’ll buy you a massage chair.”
-Huhahaha, yeah. You’ve worked hard. Anyway, why’d you call?
“Dad, I’m going to do farm work—what should I prepare?”
-What farm work. You quitting acting already?
“No. I’m going to film a variety show.”
-That stuff your mom knows better.
“She seems busy. She wasn’t picking up.”
-Not much. Just listen well to what the elders say, sweat hard, and don’t try to be slick.
“Ah, so I should just do the opposite of what you do.”
-…I’m about to get busy too. Hanging up.
It wasn’t exactly a practical conversation.
Still, it felt good knowing Dad was keeping up with his son’s drama.
I’d just message Mom on KakaoTalk for what I really needed.
Tuesday morning.
A village in Wolgot-ri, Ganghwado.
When a large van arrived, tired faces poured out in a swarm.
It was the production crew of .
“Wow, but I never imagined Sunho-ssi’s parents would be farmers.”
“Seriously. I thought he was totally Seoul-born. Just looking at his face, he has elegance pouring off him.”
“That’s prejudice. Watch your mouth.”
“I mean it positively! Anyway, booking Sunho-ssi was a god move. If Sunho-ssi couldn’t change schedules, we would’ve had to blow today’s shoot entirely. Jieunseol-ssi suddenly caught COVID.”
“Seriously, thank god. We already booked the elders and even locked the live commerce broadcast schedule—if we blew it, the damage would be no joke.”
“Since it’s come to this, I hope we get great footage!”
“Don’t expect too much. We might put pressure on him for no reason.”
Just then, a black Carnival drove into the village entrance.
The back door opened, and one face peeked out.
A clean, refined appearance like he’d just stepped out of the screen.
At that breathtaking look, the writers stirred.
“Wow… Sunho-ssi, he’s way more handsome in person?”
“I don’t say this often, but I think he’s number one among recent celebrities we’ve had…”
“If we slap that face on the thumbnail, we’ve got at least 500k secured.”
As they each rattled off their impressions,
Ryu Sunho got fully out of the car—and laughter spread from all sides.
“Pffft!”
“Puahaha!”
“Wait, did you actually come wearing mom-bae pants?”
“He even wore rubber boots—ah, I’m dying. Heh, heh.”
Maybe he noticed the reactions—his face was turning red.
“Sunho, your face is way too red. Let’s redo your makeup.”
The moment he got out, he went right back into the Carnival.
A few minutes later, he returned with a pale face.
“…Hello.”
“Ah, sorry. We laughed right in your face. It’s just—you came so fully prepared. Pffft.”
“…It’s fine. My face got red because it’s hot.”
“Puahaha, okay. Let’s say it’s because it’s hot. Got it.”
Watching this with satisfaction, PD Go Kangmin quietly whispered to the camera director.
“You got all that, right?”
“Yes. From when the Carnival arrived to when he got out, it’s all on camera.”
“Good. Sunho-ssi’s vibe feels kind of adorably clumsy, so don’t miss it—capture it well. Follow him around the whole time.”
PD Go Kangmin cheered inside.
We got the early intro that can hook people.
Unlike TV variety, YouTube variety viewers won’t wait long.
They can jump to another video anytime.
So within five seconds of the video starting, there needs to be something fun that grabs them.
And—
Even the entrance scene came out funny. Please, just keep this momentum.
And PD Go Kangmin’s wish was quickly satisfied.
Because the crew burst out again.
Dangling from the backside of Ryu Sunho’s pants was a bizarre object.
“Sunho-ssi, what’s that on your butt?”
“Ah, this is a high-end chair. When you squat in the field, you can sit comfortably while you work—”
“Puahahahaha!”
PD Go Kangmin thought,
This clumsy charm is perfect. If he keeps giving us this much comedy, it’s fine even if he’s a bit weak during live commerce. People will find him cute and go easy on him.
PD Go Kangmin had already become extremely generous toward Ryu Sunho.
When we arrived at the field, grandmas in distinctive outfits welcomed me.
“Eyyng, who’s this handsome young man?”
“Soonja’s boyfriend?”
“I’d like that, but no. He’s an entertainer teacher who came to help us today.”
The village head, named Lee Soonja, smiled and answered the grandmas for me.
Despite the title of village head, she was surprisingly young.
In a village with an average age of 68, she was the youngest village head at 29.
Even so, the Ganghwado dialect stayed strong—more than the other elders—giving off a big-sister vibe.
“Hello. I’m actor Ryu Sunho.”
“What channel were you on?”
When I formally introduced myself again, the word “actor” sparked their interest.
“On MBS, it’s called …”
“Eyyng? Detective Chief Inspector is coming back?”
“No. It’s different from Detective Chief Inspector. It’s a new drama starting on MBS.”
“Feels like I’ve seen it, or maybe not.”
“We don’t know drama names. We just watch.”
“What role is it?”
“I play a role called Kang Seoho.”
That was when it started.
“Uh…? Oh! Aigoo-ya!”
“What’s wrong? Is it time to go?”
“Ka… Kang Seoho?”
“What nonsense is that? He said Ryu Sunho.”
“N-no… it’s just—!”
The grandma in the red headscarf started sweating cold in panic.
While the other grandmas treated me boldly, that red-headscarf grandma got frightened whenever I so much as spoke.
“If we can’t pick all this, what happens?”
“They’ll cut all our necks…? Hiiik!”
“No, what’s wrong with her? Did you come out without eating this morning?”
“Ah, dig hard, dig hard! Why are you digging like you’re handling a baby, you bastard!”
“Don’t do that… if you provoke that bastard’s temper, he’ll set the whole field on fire…”
They definitely watched the drama intensely.
Worried the misunderstanding would deepen, I stepped in to explain.
But then—
“Aigoo! Why would you do something like that! This is why you can’t judge people by their looks!”
The misunderstanding didn’t get explained—it spread.
Even the grandma who’d been treating me comfortably now felt a little wary.
-Old folks don’t know that. If you come out on TV as a bad guy, you’re just a bad guy.
Dad was exactly right.
It felt a bit unfair, but when I looked at the PD across from me grinning, it seemed like the picture was coming out funny.
If so—well, I was satisfied.
After that, the shoot was raw labor itself.
On YouTube, the video length was only about 20 minutes, but we’d already been hoeing in the field for over four hours.
Gradually, the grandmas talked less, and my mind started going hazy too.
Then—
“Snack delivery!”
From far away, the village head, Lee Soonja, came carrying snacks.
It was perfect timing.
Young radish bibimbap, bachelor kimchi, pink sausage, and even makgeolli.
Hunger makes the best side dish.
For the first time in a while, I ate until I felt like I’d burst.
I cleaned the bowl so thoroughly I didn’t even know what had been in it.
But…
It was starting to feel like we were about to go back to work.
The grandmas began shifting, lifting their butts one by one.
So I quickly looked at the crops we’d harvested earlier and threw out a question.
“By the way, what was it that we harvested earlier?”
I definitely wasn’t talking just to sit a little longer.
I was trying to pull out talk for broadcast footage.
I came here to do variety, right?
“Ah, you pulled it without even knowing what it was? Heh-heh. This is why ‘Seoul bumpkin’ isn’t just something people say.”
“Soonja, if you keep that up, your whole house will burn down today.”
“I’m not that kind of person, Grandma…”
Lee Soonja answered with an easygoing grin.
“This is Ganghwado’s specialty—sunmu.”
Oh, so this was sunmu.
I’d eaten sunmu kimchi a few times, but it was my first time seeing it raw like this.
“It looks really unusual for radish. It’s all round.”
“Heh-heh, sunmu is actually in the cabbage family, so it’s different from ordinary radish from the inside out. Want to try a bite?”
I nodded, and Lee Soonja wiped one of our harvested sunmu roughly on her clothes and handed it to me.
When I held it and looked unsure how to eat it, she demonstrated herself.
“You can peel it crudely by hand like me, or you can score it with a knife and peel it off.”
“Oh, that’s interesting. Does the peel usually come off this smoothly?”
“Heh-heh, is it interesting? It’s not a normal sunmu. It’s a newly improved one. The village folks put a lot of care into developing it for a long time—higher sweetness and lots of moisture, so you can eat it raw and it’s delicious.”
She looked full of pride in the sunmu.
The entire time she explained, her face was confident and pleased.
I took a big crunchy bite.
Huh? It’s really tender.
As Lee Soonja said, the improved sunmu was tender and packed with flesh.
My tongue started dancing on its own.
“How is it?”
“Wow… it’s really good.”
“Heh-heh-heh, thank goodness. Actually, I’ve been worrying a lot about this lately.”
“Worrying? Why?”
Suddenly, a shadow fell over Lee Soonja’s face.
And she started venting.
The sunmu she’d developed together with the villagers.
She was truly confident in the quality, but sunmu wasn’t a popular product to the general public, so she was worried it wouldn’t sell well.
That was why she applied to appear on .
“If it’s something I made alone, it wouldn’t matter if it failed, but since I know how much care the villagers put into it together… I also have a responsibility as a young village head…”
Lee Soonja’s lowered head drew closer and closer to the ground.
At this rate, it would get stuck deeper than the sunmu.
Even the other elders were watching with serious, heavy faces now.
Looks like they’d pinned big hopes on the sunmu they’d worked so long to develop.
I wanted to ease their worry.
Right—I chose this variety show in the first place to do this work.
“I have a good idea.”
“Huh? What idea is that?”
“It’s an idea that’ll help us sell sunmu well when we do the live commerce.”
They looked at me with half-belief.
“Doesn’t it sell well if a celebrity sells it?”
“I don’t think that alone will be enough. I’m not that famous a celebrity, so. Haha.”
A concept where the guest sells, with their own hands, the crops they harvested with their own hands.
In general, what the PD or viewers expected was a picture of a celebrity acting like a show host, clowning around to make people buy the product.
That could also grab a wholesome image and variety-show fun.
But if you added marketing on top—
couldn’t you make an even more perfect result?
First, I think the name is important.
A brand’s name is the first standard by which a consumer understands and makes a judgment about the product.
Successful brand naming becomes something people say out loud, and gives firm differentiation.
“What did you decide to name the sunmu?”
“Taking the village name, we called it Wolgot Sunmu.”
It was not a bad naming—one that gave trust in the place of origin.
But.
It was a hard name for giving people anticipation about sunmu.
In other words, it didn’t sound tasty.
“Wolgot Sunmu is a good name too, but I think it’d be better if the name were more intuitive.”
Consumers don’t easily open their wallets for something unfamiliar.
So you need a way to lower the barrier of wariness and let them indirectly “experience” the product.
The easiest way is borrowing a familiar concept.
Making people understand a product they can’t directly experience by likening it to a familiar object or concept—using metaphor—is the most effective and efficient method.
“Do you know tokmango?”
“Of course. Just last week I even filmed mukbang with it.”
Seems like she moved to farming and even does YouTube.
But the other grandmas looked like they’d never heard of it.
“What’s tokmango? Is it tomato and mango combined?”
Even so, she caught the meaning exactly.
That was the power of tokmango’s naming.
“Right. Tokmango is one of the tomato types that’s doing well these days. It’s a tomato that brings out strong sweetness through stevia farming.”
A new tomato variety that appeared back when the artificial sweetener “stevia” wasn’t familiar yet.
If it had been called “stevia tomato” then, it would’ve felt unfamiliar, but people easily understood and spread the word fast because of the intuitive name “tokmango,” meaning a tomato sweet like mango.
“Like that, you need to give it a name that consumers can understand intuitively.”
“For example?”
Lee Soonja’s face swelled with anticipation.
Coming up with a name on the spot is hard.
It was a burdensome situation, but saying I didn’t know and backing out wouldn’t make a good picture.
I had to wring my brain and make an impactful scene here.
The camera was focused on me.
Think back to the sensation when I first bit into the improved sunmu.
Even I—someone with an aversion to raw vegetables—ate it deliciously without hesitation.
It was fair to think of it more as fruit than as a vegetable.
Come to think of it, it tasted like something I’d had somewhere before.
High sweetness and abundant moisture.
A chewy yet crisp texture packed into a small piece smaller than a fist.
Not too mushy, and properly firm.
Like the feeling between a hard peach and a soft peach?
Ah!
In that instant, a cool wind blew through my head.
“How about Peach Sunmu?”
At that one line, awe was carved onto the faces of Lee Soonja, the grandmas, and the PD filming me.