Chapter 167
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 167
Chapter Title: The King’s Departure
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A moment of silence passed before Director Woo Jeonghan shouted.
“Cut! Okay!”
At the director's voice, Seojun and Lee Jiseok’s expressions softened as they began to chat playfully, and the perfect journey through time shattered.
The captivated staff and the branch manager slowly returned to their senses. Modern objects gradually came into view.
The facade of the perfect palace was revealed, showing the cement floor, the cables running along the ground, the dazzling lights, the large camera lenses, and the people in padded jackets that clashed with their traditional hanboks.
It felt as if their vision, which had been focused solely on Danjong and Grand Prince Suyang, was slowly widening.
The staff, who had been completely immersed in the two actors' performances, felt a momentary sense of dissonance with their surroundings.
It was like spotting a modern object in a period drama—an anachronism. But that feeling of strangeness was fleeting.
“Wow… that was insane.”
“I know. Both actors are incredible. The intensity is on a whole other level compared to watching on TV.”
“I seriously thought Grand Prince Suyang was going to swing a real sword.”
The other staff members nodded in agreement.
“When Danjong was retorting so clearly, my heart was pounding.”
The staff had already read the script. They knew what lines were coming and had even tried to imagine how Lee Seojun and Lee Jiseok would deliver them.
But seeing the two actors perform with their own eyes was beyond their imagination—no, it was something they couldn't have even imagined.
Watching the two actors perform so intensely right before them, they briefly wondered, *Was this the line I read? Or that one?* The lines they had casually skimmed in the script seemed to come alive, embedding themselves sharply in their ears.
‘There’s no greater luxury than this.’
The art director smiled. Who else could witness such a performance with their own two eyes? It was a luxury reserved for the staff present.
‘So this was the performance from Lee Jiseok’s audition tape.’
He now understood why the standards had been so high when watching the performance for Kim Naegwan's role. With acting like this, it was only natural to want to gather even more talented actors to create a truly perfect work. The art director’s hands itched with creative energy.
For a moment, it had truly felt like they were in a Joseon palace. The sets and props he had created had blended in perfectly. He never imagined they would achieve this level of synchronization. It felt as if his inner artisan spirit was awakening.
It was too late to overhaul the sets and props now, as filming had been underway for two months. But there were still scenes left to shoot. The head of the art team resolved to make everything even more perfect.
A lighting staff member spoke up.
“I was really worried, you know.”
“Worried?”
“It's fine when they act separately, but I was worried that seeing them act together would remind people of *Naeuiwon*. They seemed so close before filming, which worried me even more… but I guess it was a completely pointless worry.”
The staff member’s gaze drifted to one spot. The others followed suit.
The two men, who just moments ago had seemed to be standing on the edge of a sharp blade, were now smiling and chatting quietly about how realistic the fake blood looked and what it might be made of.
“The way they can be talking like that and then just switch the moment filming starts… isn’t that amazing?”
The other staff members nodded in agreement.
***
The branch manager of Plus+ Korea wiped the cold sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. After checking the footage, Director Woo Jeonghan grinned at him.
“Short, wasn't it?”
The branch manager nodded and replied.
“It was over in an instant. And yet, it felt like it lasted a very long time.”
The two actors' performances were heart-stopping, yet impossible to look away from. While watching, every single movement had been so vivid it felt seared into his mind, the tension so palpable it was as if he were there himself. But now that it was over, it felt so short that he was sad to see it end.
His heart was still pounding, and his palms felt sweaty. The branch manager let out a breath and said.
“I saw a post online.”
“A post?”
“It was a post saying they couldn't bring themselves to rewatch it because Danjong's story is too tragic.”
Woo Jeonghan chuckled. It seemed this foreign branch manager, fluent in Korean, even knew slang for rewatching films.
“Yes. I’ve seen a few of those.”
“If it were me, I would watch it multiple times just to see this scene again.”
Director Woo Jeonghan smiled at the branch manager’s praise. A film that audiences would watch over and over. For a director, there was no higher praise.
“Thank you.”
“It's a shame that so many viewers will have to watch a scene like this with subtitles. We can't exactly tell them to learn Korean.”
Subtitles inevitably drew the viewer's eyes away from the screen to read them. To have to look away from such a magnificent performance was a pity.
‘I’m so glad I studied Korean.’
The branch manager felt a surge of pride for his younger self, who had studied Korean so diligently. Thanks to that, he had been assigned to the Korean branch and was able to witness this scene with his own eyes.
He considered it a stroke of luck. And in the future, he would be able to watch, listen to, and understand Seojun Lee’s Korean works in their original language.
“But dubbing is a bit…”
Danjong and Grand Prince Suyang speaking English. While he understood it was necessary for wider reach, he couldn't help but grimace. The branch manager nodded in agreement with Director Woo Jeonghan’s sentiment.
This was a masterpiece of a scene, a culmination of the actors’ voices, intonations, tremors, and even their breathing. If it were dubbed, non-Koreans would likely not even feel 50% of the emotion. Of course, subtitles couldn't convey the full emotion either, but it would certainly be higher than 50%.
“I know. We only plan on using subtitles. I was just saying it’s a shame.”
Director Woo Jeonghan breathed a sigh of relief at the branch manager’s smile.
Many English speakers were unaccustomed to subtitles, but the branch manager wasn't worried. There was already a film that had succeeded with subtitles alone.
“Everyone who watched *Naeuiwon* will watch this. They won't be able to resist.”
*Naeuiwon*’s success was solely due to Shadowman's influence. That alone was enough to draw in a large audience.
‘It was like that back then… so there’s no question about it now.’
Seojun Lee's current standing was far beyond that. Many more people were waiting with open hearts for his next project.
An unfamiliar historical film from another country. From the palaces and costumes to the language, everything would be new or unfamiliar, perhaps even awkward, but many would give it a try simply because it was a Seojun Lee project.
That was likely why the view count for *Naeuiwon*, a two-year-old show, was still climbing.
That,
was the power of a superstar.
Anticipating the film's success, the branch manager laughed heartily.
“Honestly, I think people will be too busy watching the actors to even read the subtitles.”
“That’s a possibility.”
Perhaps subtitles wouldn't be a major issue. The two actors’ performances were mesmerizing. Their movements and expressions alone would be enough to captivate the audience. They might miss the subtitles completely while watching the performance.
“I truly enjoyed today’s filming. If you need more production funds, please don't hesitate to call me.”
With a bright expression, the branch manager of Plus+ Korea left the set. Clutched preciously in his hand was an autograph from Seojun Lee.
***
The filming of *Yeok (Reverse)* proceeded smoothly.
With all the indoor scenes completed, it was time to move on to outdoor filming. Director Woo Jeonghan decided to shoot shorter outdoor scenes first, rather than large-scale ones prone to NGs, until the weather warmed up more.
Today was the day the retired king, Danjong, would leave Gyeongbok Palace and move to his new residence, Changdeok Palace.
After finishing their makeup, Seojun and Kim Hoyoung sat side-by-side in chairs bearing their names. The staff bustled around them. Knowing that trying to help would only get in the way, the two actors sat as quietly as possible.
“It’s a bit cold, but it’s nice to be out in the open.”
“I agree.”
Seojun nodded at Kim Hoyoung’s words.
“Jisu asked me to give you this. It’s a hot pack.”
“Please thank her for me. This is yuzu tea my grandmother made. It’s delicious.”
“Thank you.”
Kim Hoyoung handed Seojun a hot pack, and Seojun handed Kim Hoyoung the yuzu tea. Watching the two actors sitting together, the staff and extras whispered among themselves.
“Did you see *Surprise*? It's like they were destined to meet, right?”
“I saw the news articles and the show. It’s really amazing.”
With his sharp hearing, Seojun could only laugh to himself as he sipped his yuzu tea.
Last Saturday, MBS’s program that shared strange stories from around the world, *Surprise*, had broadcast the story of Seojun and Kim Hoyoung. The production company, the director, and the staff were all thrilled, seeing it as good promotion for the film.
‘Mom and Dad were happy, too. And Grandma and Grandpa said it was fascinating.’
According to Hoyoung Samchon, his daughter and her friends were so excited they had been telling everyone about it. Hoyoung Samchon had said he was just thankful that she hadn't been left with any trauma from the fire.
The only one feeling awkward was Seojun, who was being praised for having filmed a good public service announcement.
‘I mean, I intended for it to help, but I didn't save him directly…’
Sighing inwardly, Seojun overheard a new piece of gossip. An interview with Kim Hoyoung had just been posted online.
“Samchon, you did an interview?”
“The PR team asked if I would. It was my first time, so it was tough, but I enjoyed it.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. This is exactly what I dreamed of when I first started acting. Acting in the same project as famous actors, doing interviews here and there. Every day is amazing, exciting, and fun.”
Understanding that feeling all too well, superstar Seojun, himself a former extra, poured more congratulatory yuzu tea into the cup of the genuinely happy Kim Hoyoung.
“Should we get a picture of this?”
“Good idea. Let’s get one.”
The head of the PR team's eyes sparkled. A photo of Danjong and Kim Naegwan, sitting side-by-side in their padded jackets and drinking yuzu tea, was quickly uploaded to the internet.
***
“Ready, action!”
The day had come. A new king had appeared, and now that Danjong was the retired king, he had to leave Gyeongbok Palace, the home of the monarch.
With a pale face, Danjong took a step outside Gyeongbok Palace. His legs trembled, his feet heavy. It felt as if his body was not his own.
“*Sob…*”
Kim Naegwan and the court ladies who served Danjong wept. The noticeable empty spaces in their ranks made Danjong’s heart ache. The people who had blocked Grand Prince Suyang from entering his chambers during the Gyeyujeongnan coup had been killed, and few remained now.
Descending the steps, Danjong looked around. The palace was already in Grand Prince Suyang’s hands. Few were crying for him. The majority wore cold expressions or deliberately avoided his gaze.
Danjong looked back at Gyeongbok Palace, the home he had just left. The place where his grandfather had been, where his father had been, and where he himself had been. It was a place whose grandeur had once intimidated him, but one he had soon grown accustomed to.
He couldn't tear his eyes away.
Every roof tile, every pillar, every papered window. He scanned it all slowly, in such detail that he could engrave it in his memory, see it in his dreams, and paint it from recollection.
This was the place where he had reviewed petitions, cared for his people, listened to his officials, worried, agonized, laughed, cried, felt frustrated, felt happy, studied, longed, resolved, achieved, and feared.
And in the end,
the place from which he was cast out.
Danjong bit his lip. He felt tears welling up, but he was a king. A deposed king, but a king nonetheless. He could not show his tears so carelessly. A lump formed in his throat. His eyes burned. His chest felt tight, as if it were about to burst.
A torrent of thoughts rushed through Danjong’s mind.
Longing for his parents, who had passed on too soon, and lament for his own fate. Guilt for those who had died and resentment toward Grand Prince Suyang.
“Please…”
Swallowing all those emotions, Danjong opened his mouth.
His voice was thick with moisture and trembled, but for the sake of the young king who was trying so hard to maintain a calm expression, everyone pretended not to notice.
“Please, become a virtuous king, Uncle.”
He didn't know if his uncle would hear it himself or if it would be relayed through others, but Danjong said it anyway. At his words, another wave of sobs broke out from his attendants. Even those who had been avoiding his gaze bit their lips and lowered their heads.
They could only pray that the future of this young, retired king would be a peaceful one.