Segok-ri Reservoir – 1
"Hello, Mr. Kim."
Director Cho Woochul stepped out of the lead vehicle and greeted me with a bright wave.
From what I'd heard, Cho Woochul had once been a director with real promise. He'd caught the eye of investors and producers alike, lined up two projects at once, and got both of them into theaters.
And yet I've never heard of a single one of his films, which means they must have flopped spectacularly.
Three major accidents during a single shoot. A lead actor in a car crash. Another lead replaced in a drug scandal. Then, during reshoots, a crew member nearly drowned. Clear skies would turn into torrential downpours the moment cameras rolled, and one studio fire burned an entire set to ashes. It wasn't just bad luck — apparently it felt as if the whole universe had conspired to block his success.
Contrary to the predictions of the old-guard titans of the film industry, who insisted anyone with basic competence could turn out a passable movie, both of Cho Woochul's films had earned their place among the all-time worst.
He even nearly went blind in an accident on his second film. Enough said.
As a result, the man once hailed as Chungmuro's most promising young director had become a has-been nobody wanted to hire. He'd spent a full five years preparing his next project — which turned out to be Segok-ri Reservoir.
Cho Woochul wrote the screenplay himself, and by his own account had revised it twenty times.
I read it too, and there wasn't a single hole in the script.
Honestly, if they shot it exactly as written, it seemed like it would clear the bar easily.
The story followed Yeonhwa, a woman born with the fate of a shaman. Wielding the power of curses, she killed the husband who tormented her, his family, and her supervisor at work. Wanting only a quiet life, she moved to the countryside of Segok-ri — where the villagers began to harass her for being an outsider. They blocked the road with a tractor, barred her from the communal dump, that sort of thing. The villagers were determined to drive Yeonhwa out for good.
Because the village shaman had declared her an ill-omened woman.
To take revenge on the shaman and the villagers, Yeonhwa summoned the water ghosts dwelling in the reservoir. The people who had tormented her died in the shower, or drowned face-down in a bowl of dishwater. Then a rural police officer arrived to investigate — played, of course, by Seo Jinwoo.
Cho Woochul and Seo Jinwoo went way back, friends for many years. That was the reason Seo Jinwoo had accepted a supporting role in what was otherwise a one-woman show built entirely around the lead actress.
Jinwoo said that when Bae Jung-hee's oppression had worn him down to the point of quitting acting altogether, Cho Woochul was the one who held him back.
From the few phone calls we'd exchanged, I'd gotten the sense that Cho Woochul was simply a man who loved people. Even while negotiating to borrow my yard, he made a visible effort to show curiosity and get to know me. He tried, with every sentence, to say something pleasant for the other person to hear.
So I decided to try it myself.
"Director, your face looks better than ever. Must have been a lot of good news lately?"
"You think so? I suppose I'm just giddy now that we're finally starting the shoot."
Usually this is where the small talk ends and business begins, but Cho Woochul turned the flattery right back on me.
"Mr. Kim, you're looking unusually handsome today too. And I mean that sincerely — you should be an actor, not a farmer."
"Farming is a looks-based profession too. Didn't you know?"
When I tossed the joke back, Cho Woochul burst out laughing.
"So if a handsome farmer tends the orchard, the fruit just hangs heavy off the branches, does it?"
"Oh, mercy."
I raised both hands in surrender, as if declaring defeat to his silver tongue.
"Yes, my mistake. Farming isn't done with a face, it's done with diligence. But seriously, something has changed about you. You look so much more vital."
Cho Woochul stepped a little closer and lowered his voice.
"To tell you the truth, my wife visited a very famous shaman. Word is, every single person that shaman has ever read a fortune for became president."
"So the fortune says the movie will be a hit?"
"Yes — and apparently it's all thanks to you, Mr. Kim."
"Thanks to me?"
I wasn't even appearing in the film. What on earth was he talking about?
The Village Head and Mrs. Han Su-ja had both been confirmed as cast members, playing villagers. They were extras without a single line, but the Village Head was over the moon — his lifelong dream of becoming a movie actor was coming true. Mrs. Han Su-ja was just as delighted. Either way, the only thing I'd contributed to this movie was the loan of my yard and an empty house. Hearing that the film's success would come thanks to me, I couldn't help but be baffled.
Cho Woochul went on.
"Do you know what that gifted shaman said about you? Mr. Kim, in a past life you saved the country from some truly dreadful villains."
"Haha. Is that so?"
When I burst out laughing, Cho Woochul looked faintly embarrassed.
"You don't believe it, do you?"
"No, no, I'll believe it. If you'd told me I'd sold the country out in a past life, I'd have been furious — but saving it? That's a compliment, so of course I'll take it."
"She's the real deal. And here's what she said: the guardian spirits of all eight provinces of Joseon will watch over this life of yours. So if I merely film in your yard, Mr. Kim, even my own fortune will open up. That's what she tells me."
If that's what it took for him to believe the movie would succeed, who was I to stop him? Besides, Seo Jinwoo had told me that film people, of all people, were surprisingly superstitious. They held a sacrificial rite before shoots, and even asked gifted shamans to pick the release dates. Korean cinema, it seemed, only succeeded when luck was on its side.
I smiled and said, "Well, you've had some good news, so all that's left is to pour your energy into the shoot."
"Exactly. On my previous films, one impossible accident followed another, and I was a wreck with worry. This time, I just pray nothing like that happens."
"I'll pray right along with you — that not a single accident occurs, and that the movie is a great success."
It was just a few kind words, but Cho Woochul was so delighted that he bowed his head and thanked me all over again.
Just then, a celebrity van pulled up and stopped.
"Ms. Choi Hee-ah, come say hello to the homeowner. You should have a good look around the yard and learn your blocking, so please step out of the van."
The door clicked open, and out stepped Choi Hee-ah, the leading lady of Segok-ri Reservoir.
Actresses really are a different species in person.
Her face was tiny. She was dressed for the cold in a long puffer coat, which made her look like a doll swallowed up in an enormous blanket. She seemed far thinner and more delicate than she did on screen.
"Hello, I'm Choi Hee-ah. What a lovely house. Did you do the restoration yourself?"
She was genuinely interested in my home.
"I had help from a friend who works at an architecture firm. A very skilled carpenter did the actual repairs."
"Introduce me, please. I'm looking for a summer house in Gapyeong."
"I'll pass along my contact through the director."
"Thank you."
Choi Hee-ah really did seem taken with the house — she asked serious questions about the roof tiles and the window frames. After chatting for a while, I turned to Cho Woochul with a word of caution.
"Both the front and back doors will be locked. And no one is to enter the back yard — you remember that, yes?"
"Of course. We'll shoot in the front yard only. Word is our luck opens up thanks to you, Mr. Kim — I would never dream of making things unpleasant for you."
"Haha. I don't know who this shaman is, but I'd like to thank her myself."
I'd lent out my yard at the Village Head's request, and the whole time I'd been worrying. What if someone tried to go inside the house? What if they broke things or tossed trash around and left? But it seemed the director himself would keep a strict lid on any such behavior, which put my mind considerably at ease.
Still, staff can slip up, so I'd better keep everything locked down tight.
I made my way around the house, locking every window and both entrances, then headed straight through the back yard toward the front room.
One-ho, take good care of the kittens and the wives while I'm out.
One-ho lifted his head from where the much-grown kittens were gnawing on it.
"Where are you going?"
Into town, to buy some food.
"Bring me back hotteok and cake. Strawberry cake, please, Master."
Even while he was talking, the kittens kept pouncing on him — chewing his ears, climbing all over his body.
If you're going to roughhouse with all those kittens, you'd better eat plenty. Fine — hotteok and cake it is.
I loaded Chai into the car and headed for the township center. In the meantime, his immigration case had been resolved, and he'd been granted an extension of his stay in Korea — with me as his identity guarantor and, effectively, his new boss.
"Chai, you'll be staying in Korea through the next contract extension, so if there's anything you need, we're buying it all today. Let's start with clothes."
The biggest clothing store in town was Myeongdong Fashion, right across from the Nonghyup branch. Work clothes, pajama pants, hiking gear, even women's dresses — if it existed, they had it. They even sold socks and underwear.
"Chai likes these clothes very much!"
What Chai picked out was a pair of outdated jeans.
"Try them on first. If they fit, I'll order you some nicer ones online."
"No need to buy better ones. Chai likes these. Very cool!"
Chai went on to pick out outfits that looked plucked straight off a movie protagonist — skin-tight T-shirts, military cargo pants, even more jeans.
Why does my face get hot just imagining him doing farm work in those clothes?
But he was so happy about them that I couldn't bring myself to say no.
I picked out a pair of work pants and a T-shirt for myself. They were meant for getting filthy in the fields, but they suited me better than I'd expected. I was standing in front of the mirror, just out of the fitting room, when—
Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
My phone rang. It was the Village Head.
"Yunho, my boy — you went into town? You still there?"
"Yes. I'm buying some clothes for Chai, and some for myself too. I didn't have anything decent to work in."
"Then are you near Myeongdong Fashion, by any chance?"
"Yes, why?"
"Well, I've got film shooting to do, so I don't think I can go pick up Seongeun."
With the new school term under way, Bang Seongeun had started middle school. Her brother Seonghyun, being an athlete, ran to school, worked out, and ran back home on repeat — but Seongeun was being driven to school in the Village Head's truck. And now, because of the film shoot, he couldn't go pick her up.
"Where should I go to meet her? Should I head to the school?"
"If you're at Myeongdong Fashion, she'll come to you. Her school's right nearby."
"All right, understood."
I was about to hang up when the Village Head, entirely unprompted, started bragging about his new role.
"Aigoo, but thank you. The director took one look at my face and gave me a part with actual lines! Haha. I was worried sick I'd have to give it up to go fetch Seongeun."
"A part with lines? What is it?"
"One of the nasty villagers. Isn't that something? Apparently I just have to curse out Choi Hee-ah like this — 'You wretched woman!'"
Was I supposed to congratulate him?
I hesitated a moment before answering.
"Ah, yes... you're... very good at acting."
"Of course I am. You've got to nail the first role to get the next one."
"You're going to keep acting?"
"If the casting offers come in, why not? Haha. My dream was to be a movie actor, after all."
This was bad. The Village Head had caught the acting bug.
Mrs. Han Su-ja would surely talk some sense into him on her own. And sure enough, right beside him, her voice came through the phone, vibrating with indignation.
"You get the part where you curse people out? What a waste! I'm the one who could act properly villainous."
"Nonsense, dear — you look too kind for it. But me, if I chew my gum and spit it out and curse, I'll look like a proper villain."
The couple who wouldn't say a harsh word even to an ant passing by were now squabbling over which of them could play a better scoundrel.
By the time I finished the call, Bang Seongeun had come bounding into the store.
"Mister! Is Jinwoo oppa coming today too? Uncle told me the film crew is coming to our village!"
"Seongeun-ah, Jinwoo gets to be 'oppa,' but I'm 'Mister'? There's only two years between Jinwoo and me."
"Well, but... you were always... the mister upstairs from the start?"
"And Jinwoo was oppa from the start?"
"Yes."
Bang Seongeun rolled her big eyes, stuck out her tongue, and giggled.
"Are you disappointed, Mister? You're not going to cry, are you?"
"Nope, not crying."
But when I made a show of sniffling anyway, she laughed even harder.
The gloomy little girl who'd once shut herself away at home, weighed down by a parasitic spirit, no longer existed. In her place stood Bang Seongeun, an ordinary middle schooler who went to school and made friends. Watching her, I felt endless pride and admiration.
"Pick out a few things for yourself too, Seongeun. My treat."
"Wow! Thank you!"
She jumped up and down with joy. Then again — was everything she picked out going to be sparkly?
Is K-pop girl-group fashion a thing these days?
After shopping at Myeongdong Fashion, we bought seedlings for the garden plot — lettuce, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, perilla, chili peppers, and even watermelon. Chai had declared himself confident in his watermelon-growing abilities and swore he could raise the seedlings well, so into the cart they went.
We bought snacks for Bang Seongeun, and hotteok and cake for One-ho, then picked up meat, fish, and other groceries before starting the drive back to the village.
I wonder if the film shoot is wrapped up by now?
Contrary to my expectations, the village road was packed with people. I widened my eyes, wondering if every last one of them could possibly be crew members — and then I saw it.
Fans of Choi Hee-ah and Seo Jinwoo.
Who knew how they'd all tracked the location down, but there they were.
"If the movie's a huge hit, doesn't that make our village famous too?"