Traditional and Trendy (4)
As Haegeuk aired, KBC followed up the very next Monday with their new historical drama.
It was a 60-episode saga titled Taejong's Garden, a straight-laced historical drama centered on King Taejong Lee Bang-won. The production budget was a staggering 90 billion won.
Jang Seung-won, Kim Sang-hee, and Jeong Seo-hoon gathered to watch the rival show. The venue was Kim Sang-hee's bar.
The first episode paused for a mid-break ad, and only then did Kim Sang-hee speak up.
"Not bad, PD-nim."
"Yeah, it's decent enough."
"They said the total budget was 90 billion, right?"
"Yes, that's what I heard."
"Damn, they're not short on cash, but they screwed us over like that? How much of a pushover did we look like?"
"Not defending them, but since we went with cable, the vice president was pissed and ordered them to fight fire with fire."
Kim Sang-hee snorted derisively.
"Then they should air in the same time slot. What's with dodging the date and going for Monday-Tuesday like cowards?"
"They must've been scared of a mutual bloodbath. They threw in 90 billion. By airing on a different day, they figure as long as they beat our ratings, they win."
"Mid-episode ratings out yet?"
"Hang on, let me check... 9.9% so far."
"Final tally after it ends will hit double digits, no doubt. Eh, pretty good for them."
In these days of fierce channel wars, even double-digit ratings for a premiere were considered solid.
But KBC probably saw it differently.
"KBC prides itself as the king of historicals, and getting beaten by us right out the gate must sting the VP's ego."
"From the looks of it, they won't let us win even once this whole run. Right, Seo-hoon?"
When Kim Sang-hee turned and asked, Jeong Seo-hoon posed the question he'd been mulling.
"They're airing twice a week too—any scheduling issues? They started production way after us."
"It was pulled from an existing lineup, so it's not rushed. Still, three months of shooting? How much could they have filmed?"
Kim Sang-hee sneered right back.
"Give it time—side scripts will pop up, schedules tangle, endless all-nighters leave actors with dark circles, sloppy edits slip in PD megaphone cues... Ugh, just imagining it gives me chills."
"PD megaphone in the audio? God, that's nightmare fuel. Hope it doesn't happen to a rival, but really."
Jeong Seo-hoon blinked, puzzled.
"That actually happen?"
"Some drama back in the day—side-script shoot gone wrong, final episode aired with the PD's on-set directions mic'd up."
"Immersion... shattered."
"Smashed to bits. Backlash was brutal. I cursed up a storm watching it."
Jang Seung-won brimmed with pride.
"And we've got Paju Studio. No way Taejong's Garden beats us on visuals or schedule. They can't even compete."
Kim Sang-hee was already searching viewer reactions to Taejong's Garden.
"Reactions are better than expected? Lots of well-wishes looking forward to more. Whoa, huge gap with Haegeuk."
"They're the challengers; we're the defending champs. Viewers will root for them verbally."
"We're talking 20% ratings this week, and zero raves."
"Kim Sang-hee and Jeong Seo-hoon team-up? That's expected now. Two rookie awards last year, plus that cable arts grand prize."
And at the prestigious Baekryong Awards, Jeong Seo-hoon snagged both Rookie and Best Supporting Actor.
Considering Su-jang-go's sweep, he'd etched an unbreakable debut career.
"No one sees Seo-hoon as a rookie anymore. Unless you're a die-hard fan, no blind praise. Kinda sad?"
"Eh, I don't check online reactions anyway."
"Smart. Keep it that way. All you'll see are hate comments under articles."
Jeong Seo-hoon got Jang Seung-won's point.
No longer the underdog getting cheers—he was the champion facing picky scrutiny.
Even his mom freaking out over 18% premiere as a "flop" fit the pattern.
If Mom was that harsh, imagine the cold masses who didn't know his face.
"Even breaking 20% mid-run feels... obligatory."
"Yep. 30% won't wow 'em either—Illegal hit 29.9%."
"Doesn't that burden you, PD-nim?"
"If it did, I wouldn't be a PD. I'd have quit ages ago."
Before the second half, a coffee ad played—bad boy and his inescapable lover, starring Jeong Seo-hoon and Chae Ji-hyun.
Kim Sang-hee clapped like a seal, cackling.
"Total humiliation! Rival lead in their mid-break ad."
"Pfft, advertiser must've planned it."
The seasoned PD and writer were beyond judging—they relished it.
And the lead actor matched them, shrugging off the moment with ironclad mental fortitude.
Challengers get the cold shoulder... makes sense.
Jeong Seo-hoon wasn't used to judgment.
Middle school on, praise was constant—his normal. College, military: same.
Praise felt abstract now; scrutiny felt alien.
But Rashid was different.
Started as commander, war hero fast-tracked to battalion—praise from below, brutal top-down evals as routine.
"Ah, Seo-hoon, don't stress. Even in a slump, you're A-list."
"Hey, PD-nim! Don't jinx it. Seo-hoon's genius doesn't slump. Treat 'em like this."
"Writer-nim, saying that to my face? Sounds empty."
"Our muse knows it's real. Speaking of, miss Muse Oneness. Gotta wait nine more months for Han Seo-hee?"
Jeong Seo-hoon eyed the Taejong on screen intently.
Flawless acting, objectively.
But glaring lacks everywhere.
How'd it look to a pro PD?
"PD-nim. Compare Taejong's acting to my Grand Prince."
"Honestly?"
"Yes. Be straight."
Jang Seung-won downed his whiskey, grinning fiercely.
"Every camera check? Not Grand Prince acting—you were the Grand Prince. Always."
He stabbed a thumbs-up with pure conviction.
"You're the best, Seo-hoon."
No joy, no blush, no arrogance. Just poise.
That nonchalance... true star quality, Jang Seung-won thought.
Taejong's Garden episode 1 peaked at 11%.
Episode 2 the next day hit 12.5%.
Viewer reactions were glowing.
With Taejong's Garden on Mon-Tue, Haegeuk followed Wed-Thu.
Hardcore sageuk fans and Jeong Seo-hoon stans sharpened claws on SNS by Wednesday afternoon.
Then 9 PM hit.
Haegeuk Episode 3
"I must become king. It's the only way I survive."
The Grand Prince thrashed in demonic depths.
Next throne: his brother the Crown Prince's, by heaven's decree—unchangeable by man.
That very thought defied heaven: usurpation.
"Telling Father? He'd just rage."
The wise king-father rejected illness cured by faith.
Carving a Buddha from a child pine he'd ennobled? Foolish folly, he'd scold.
"Driving Father and Mother apart again over me? Ultimate filial impiety. I won't have it..."
True filial piety, honoring parents? Or faint doubt he shoved aside?
"Confide in Crown Prince brother, beg his aid?"
More practical, surely.
Brother rejected superstition like Father but doted on him—would fell "one tree" easy.
'One tree to ease my brother's heart and mend him? What wouldn't I give?'
Hoarding laughter, no doubt.
But Crown Prince thought him long cured.
'As kids, leprosy's horror shielded me in his worry. But as adults—still?'
Did boundless brotherly love linger?
'Reveal leprosy now? Royal blemish—they'd cast me out. Who guarantees not?'
Even his great-uncle, once Crown Prince dethroned and yielding throne, demanded his exile as child.
One more snag.
'Even if brother yields the tree for me, only after coronation.'
Father: impossible. Brother: time uncertain.
Would he last?
'That nameless verse stalled my rot three days via ritual. Find it again—I'd do anything.'
Even superstition-hating Father suspected its power, mobilizing court to hunt.
Ten years scouring Korea: nothing.
'Crown Prince must ascend fast.'
'But as king, knowing my rot—he'd exile me.'
'My path to live...'
The Grand Prince agonized madly.
Yet outwardly: model second prince.
Devoted brother revering Crown Prince, aloof from books and men—untouched by throne lust.
"My lord, southern floods and gales struck sudden, but the governor coped wisely—no major damage."
"A shaman foresaw exact hour, directed countermeasures. Local legend for prowess."
"Sees千里 from seat, knows all—praise everywhere."
"Have that shaman trace the high monk?"
Princes needed leave to leave capital—lest secret provincial power challenge throne.
Via mother's roundabout, he secured secret royal nod, slipped south incognito.
Scholar's garb, two retainers—asking commons, found the famed shaman.
Shaman eyed him: blurted,
"Brother's karma—you took it."
"Brother's karma?"
"You know best, young lord."
High monk's words to queen flashed thunderous.
'Deep grudge from prior reign clings to Grand Prince.'
"Meant for your brother, but..."
"But?"
"Your father diverted its path for brother. Unresolved, it flowed to you."
Grit—fist clenched unwittingly.
Resentment at father-brother? Self-loathing for swaying to a shaman?
"Blood karma doesn't vanish easy. Return to rightful bearer. If impossible... I can't say more."
"Speak! Now!"
"Defies heaven."
"You wanna die?!"
"Not me. You and yours—for defying heaven."
"I demand it! Speak!"
Blade drawn—eyes murder-cold, no hesitation.
Expected? Shaman sighed faint.
"You know. Take the dearest—solves it."
"Dearest...?"
"What's dearest here? Most sacred seat?"
Throne.
Unspoken word hit—shaman prostrated sudden, face to earth like commoner before king.
"Clearing karma—only this realm's supreme can. Your highness."
No "how'd you know?"—just uncanny trust layered.
"Seize the supreme seat."
"Then I live?"
"To live, you must reign."
Shaman voiced the isolated prince's deepest crave.
"His majesty's rite shielding Crown Prince twists to harm you. Evading it defies royal will—treason, yet..."
Still prostrate, forehead ground, deferent.
"Life's struggle isn't usurpation."
Lee Jeong-sook gripped the screen, breathless.
Son as twisted-faced prince glaring shaman pierced her.
Every drama hit different—but 20+ years raising him? Alien.
No—another soul.
Stranger would swear separate man, same face.
Curling lip-tail, brow-end, dilating pupils.
Hard to credit as son's acting.
Continued in Episode 4
End credits, OST, ads flowed.
But Lee Jeong-sook lingered in olden times.
Husband's casual mutter shattered immersion ruthless.
"120-inch OLED Dolby Vision IQ—makes Seo-hoon's acting pop more. Good buy. Right, honey?"
Forced out, trembling unseen, Jeong Tae-hyeon killed the TV.
Pointed at bottom speaker sliding up sleek, vanishing.
"Honey, see the speaker rising? Set to fold on power-off, but it reset. Su-ryeon fiddled, probably."
Lee Jeong-sook smacked husband's back crisp.
"Preview's on—why off? Turn it back on!"