The Lecture That Went Viral
Choi Ra-hee and her friends couldn't grasp the situation right away.
It was just too surreal a sight.
A worn and tattered warrior's uniform.
A long sword caked with grime from constant handling.
A simply tied topknot.
Fatigued yet piercing eyes—
All of it had seemed perfectly normal on screen.
But seeing it burst into reality like this left them utterly dumbfounded.
The hanok sets had felt a bit half-assed somewhere along the way. But with this man in front of them, it almost felt like they'd time-traveled back to the past.
While the four stood there frozen in a daze, the AD waved his hands in flustered panic.
"It's nothing, just go on about your business. Typical sasaeng fans! I thought I gave them a stern talking-to earlier, but here they are sneaking back in."
"From the back?"
"Yeah, didn't they come from over there?"
"That's impossible."
"Pardon?"
Kang Min closed his eyes and opened them again.
His gaze casually swept over the surrounding terrain.
"As you know, this filming location is divided into two main zones. Over there you've got the memorial sets and theme park, then below that the marketplace, the magistrate's office, leading up to the front half ending at Muryangsujeon Hall. Then the castle walls and Gyeongjeongjeon, with this shooting area right below."
"......"
"In other words, to circle back to that zone without us spotting you, they'd have to go over the mountain—which is out of the question—or loop all the way around outside the walls. And that side's been prepping the jib one hour ago. No way they'd pass through without making noise."
"Then..."
"Obviously, they started from the opposite zone, beginning at the Hyeminseo and the rear area."
Kang Min easily traced the route with his finger.
Even by car, it was a tight squeeze time-wise, and none of them looked old enough to have a license—he concluded.
The AD looked flustered but had to concede it was a solid deduction.
"S-sorry. I guess I jumped to conclusions."
But the four girls had no attention to spare for the apologizing AD.
They were too busy staring blankly at Kang Min.
It's Hui-yul... for real...
His voice... it's so deep...! So sweet!
Did he just take our side?! This is insane! INSANE!!
But none of them could compare to Choi Ra-hee, who'd escaped the "unlucky fan" trap.
She had no idea what was happening.
Cold sweat broke out on her hands and feet, her body alternating between chills and feverish heat.
Her vision, fixed only on his face, was endlessly hazy—
Kang Min calmly turned his head.
"Hwan-jae... Etherbit fans?"
"Y-yes?"
"I saw the group gathering at the main entrance. If you took a wrong turn, just keep going that way and turn left. It's a bit farther, but you'll see it."
"Ah, okay."
"Alright then."
Kang Min gave a small bow and turned away.
Someone let out an involuntary "Ah..." of regret.
Right. If they were Etherbit fans, they should just say thanks and head to their destination. At least, that's what Choi Ra-hee would do, no question.
But,
that was just too—
"W-we're not Etherbit fans! We're fans of actor Kang Min!"
The other three girls blankly turned to her.
And no wonder—it was Choi Ra-hee who'd shouted it so desperately.
They all stared at her with expressions of shock, like they'd just witnessed Peter denying Jesus.
Kang Min tilted his head with a soft "Hm?" and stroked his chin.
"H-Hwan-jae..."
"I don't know him!!"
Peter had denied Jesus twice!
Regardless of her friends gaping, Choi Ra-hee was desperate.
Her eyes spun wildly as she blurted whatever came to mind.
"W-we didn't mean to run into you like this! We didn't know you were filming—no, we knew, but we didn't think we'd actually see you! But now that we have, it's just... surprising, so... if it's okay, a photo? Or an autograph...!"
"Actor Kang."
"No, it's fine. I have some free time anyway."
The AD, about to step in assuming they were hardcore sasaengs, got waved off.
Fans—
Kang Min felt a fresh sense of novelty as he looked at the nervous high school girls before him.
Excluding random street encounters, it was still a rare occurrence.
And just the other day, Principal Hong Ji-ho had called, advising him to treat fans well. This could be the key to beating Black Forest.
'Handle it like Bom does.'
Not hard at all—
Muttering to himself inwardly, Kang Min addressed the trembling girl at the front.
"Your name?"
"Ch-Choi Ra-hee!"
"Nice name."
"Th-thank you!"
Just complimenting her name—nothing special.
But to Choi Ra-hee, it felt like she was soaring through the clouds.
"You look like a student. High school?"
"Yes!"
"What year?"
"S-second year!"
"All four of you?"
"Yes!!"
"Hmm."
Every casual bit of chit-chat while signing amplified their joy.
Her ears rang with birdsong, and angels with castanets danced in her head to a celebratory tune.
She could live on plain rice for a month with this feeling as side dish.
Choi Ra-hee fumbled for her phone. She'd record it and listen every night before bed.
—Well,
until Kang Min casually opened his mouth again.
"Just one question."
"Y-yes! Anything!!"
"How'd you score on the June mock exam?"
".........Pardon?"
#
"Please, Bom! 'My parents are idiot trash, so maybe my head's trash too' isn't an excuse for scoring 12 on math! This is just you screwing up your studies! Come on, let's try again!"
"My god, Bom! If someone asks about your parents' well-being, just ask back! 'Your folks pour blood and sweat money into your house, so why are you uglier and dumber than me? Poor parents who drew the short straw with you!'—why lead with your fist?!"
Of course, Kang Min didn't apply the exact same tone he'd used on orphanage-era Seo Bom to these girls.
How could he equate a girl who caused the flashiest incidents at the orphanage—leaving everyone sighing, "How will this one ever live normally?"—with ordinary students? He had the judgment to speak mildly at most.
—The problem was, even that was pretty intense by normal standards.
"I'm not saying you have to ace your studies or skip school. The issue is, Ra-hee, you're at the most crucial moment of your life right now."
"Yes..."
"Do you have a dream?"
"No, not really..."
"Then find one. Now. This isn't the time to chase celebrities."
"......"
"What can celebrities even do for your life? At best, sign an autograph, take a photo, console you if things go wrong. But to them, you're just one of many fans. Do you want to waste your life becoming a 'slightly noticed' fan among the masses? It might make colorful memories, but it won't be your life."
Kang Min had stiffened only briefly upon hearing the mock scores. But learning they'd skipped school—not some school event—pushed him over the edge.
His orphanage-honed skills, dubbed "pro nagger," "more old-school than the director," "time-stretching wizard"—none of it was hype.
Before they knew it, Choi Ra-hee and her friends forgot even to be touched, blankly absorbing the sermon.
"Extremely speaking, even wasting your life is fine. I wasted seven pathetic years myself. But at least waste it on your own terms, without regrets. Not even I—or my far greater seniors—can take responsibility for fans' lives—"
Four high schoolers getting lectured by a stern Joseon warrior.
It was peak postmodern absurdity.
"Even Einstein said everyone is a genius. It's just that fish think they're dumb because they try climbing trees. If a genius like that said it, what about us mortals? Exploring and choosing what you want, what you can do—that's true wisdom, unlike a hack like me—"
In hindsight, Kang Min's lecture lasted maybe 10 minutes tops.
But to the four girls, it felt like one or two hours had passed.
Even the AD listening in checked his watch in disbelief—it wasn't just them.
"And Goethe once said..."
"Uh, Actor Kang. Time to go..."
"Ah, right. But this story..."
"N-no, we're good!!"
"We get it!!"
"No more skipping school!!!!"
Kang Min closed his mouth and quietly regarded the four.
They swallowed hard.
A few seconds later, he smiled gently.
"Good. Keep it up."
His encouraging grin was soft and heart-fluttering—for what it was 10 minutes ago.
But now, no one could feel that way.
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......"
The four walked out of the historical drama park in a daze.
Back to the bus stop, ride, transfer, get off at destination, walk, part ways.
No one spoke the whole time.
Choi Ra-hee only snapped out of it after getting home.
Meaning, only then did she finally check the recording.
'Said it's okay to record and post...'
At first, she'd planned to brag online about meeting her fave. Envious comments would lift her spirits.
But now... she wasn't so sure.
'No one would be jealous of this?!'
Choi Ra-hee clutched her head.
She'd met her ultimate bias.
And he'd earnestly worried about her life and lectured her.
She wouldn't envy herself.
No, she'd just be a total idiot...!
'But still...'
After agonizing, Choi Ra-hee cautiously posted it anyway.
It was too precious not to share.
And, well.
For some reason, this recording sparked massive buzz.
It started, naturally, on Lambda.
They all had their opinions on Kang Min, but it wasn't the time to nitpick.
They were too busy cracking up at Choi Ra-hee's voice going from hyped to dead inside.
And of course, someone reposted it.
No drama, however epic, draws more than its fans.
But this was different.
It spread naturally to humor sites, then across communities without discrimination—dozens, hundreds of them.
It wasn't as explosive as the shock from some King and Sovereign scene.
But like ink spreading in water, reactions heated up over the week.
The first to get the results from a collaborator was Baek Chae-i—
or rather, OlivePenguin.
Baek Chae-i panicked briefly, then lit up.
Busy with script work, she'd missed the drama—now fans were finally gathering.
She hammered the keyboard excitedly.
Maybe even 2k by now—Baek Chae-i dreamed big.
But, how to put it.
The reply was... way off.
Shrimp Backs Piled High in the Whale Fight (8)