A Rhythm They Can't Follow
In the film, Cheon-yeong's screen time wasn't especially long for a character of her importance. Locked away and exploited by the villains, she had Il-yeong and Ji-suk moving in her stead — her hands and feet in all but name.
So it followed that I didn't spend much time on set, and that I heard the news back at the lodging.
"Bae Su-chan collapsed?"
"Mm. Luckily it ain't serious — just exhaustion, they said."
"Isn't exhaustion serious too?"
"Well. Yeah, it is."
Gwon Du-il frowned and turned his phone toward me. Assistant Director Seo Ji-wook's message laid out a brief rundown of what had happened, along with a note that filming would be delayed a little.
"He collapsed from exhaustion and they're putting him back on set after half a day's rest?"
"He said he's fine himself, so..."
Given Director Hong Il-beom's temperament, he would have sent him home to rest if he weren't actually all right. Maybe there was no need to worry too much.
But the Bae Su-chan I found on set still looked far from well.
The eager energy he'd had at the table read was nowhere to be found. He sat apart from the other actors, his face set and rigid, with only his manager keeping him company — rattling on without a pause.
Is he the type who feels the pressure that hard?
We barely shared any scenes, so I'd never really seen how he prepared before a take. But one look at Jo Yong-jin — the actor he worked with most — was enough to guess. He didn't usually carry himself like this.
I drifted over and asked, keeping my voice light.
"Is Bae Su-chan still not feeling well? Is that why he's sitting off by himself?"
"Ah, well..."
Jo Yong-jin glanced around, then whispered, barely audible.
"This next scene is important, so... he said he's been immersing since this morning. He wants to get it right."
Ah. Come to think of it, at the table read Director Hong had asked him to show what it looked like to stand against Cheon-yeong.
But was immersion enough on its own? Becoming Kang Geon-bok and standing against Cheon-yeong as Kang Geon-bok were two different things.
It struck me as odd, but I didn't press. Everyone had their own process.
As if he'd felt my gaze, Bae Su-chan looked over. I was about to smile and wave — but his face went ashen, and he whipped his head away.
His manager, following his line of sight, spotted me too, and launched into an even more frantic stream of talk, jabbing a finger in my direction over and over.
At least he had the sense to keep his voice down.
I couldn't hear the words, but I got the gist. Don't lose to Cheon-yeong.
Jo Yong-jin, flustered for no good reason, jumped in to cover for him.
"He's in character. That's all. He's in character..."
"Ah. It's fine."
I had no idea how deep you had to go to stop telling me and Cheon-yeong apart. Still, one thing was clear.
So it's not entirely on me, then?
At the very least, Bae Su-chan had taken more of his cues from that manager. That said, the takes falling apart in every scene I was in, the way the other actors were pushing themselves past the point of reason — I couldn't pretend I had nothing to do with it.
But why? I'd identified the problem. The cause was still a mystery.
Even Jo Yong-jin, who'd acted opposite me in Gojingi, was struggling unusually hard this time. The pressure of a lead role could explain some of it — but the way he looked at me wasn't all that different from Bae Su-chan.
I hesitated, then tugged on Jo Yong-jin's sleeve. Asking him directly would be faster than chewing on it alone.
"Hey."
I even put on a slightly dejected face, hoping it'd pull an honest answer out of him.
"Is it hard to act with me?"
"Wh-what?"
"You know what I mean. Everyone keeps blowing takes when I'm around. They look at me all strange..."
The effect was spectacular. Cold sweat beaded on Jo Yong-jin's forehead.
"Noabsolutelynot."
"Then what is it? Why do the takes keep falling apart whenever we act together? Am I doing something wrong?"
"Wait, wait. How do I even explain this..."
I fired the questions off in a rush, then just looked up at him, waiting. Jo Yong-jin's face said this was the last conversation he wanted to be having.
"It's not your fault at all. I just... I can't keep up with your rhythm."
"Rhythm?"
"Yeah. Not breathing, exactly — more like the air that moves between characters. The tempo, maybe... Anyway, it's not on you. We're the ones who aren't good enough."
"Don't get all deflated on me all of a sudden..."
I soothed the wilted Jo Yong-jin and turned the thought over.
A mismatch in rhythm. Maybe this was more solvable than I'd thought.
"All right — standby!"
While I was still working out a solution, filming started.
Can I fix this before it gets any bigger?
I was finally enjoying a shoot. The last thing I needed was a problem I couldn't put back in the box. I watched every actor standing in front of me with careful attention.
"Kneel before the Divine Maiden, even now. Then she shall forgive you every sin."
Yang Ho-gun and Kang Geon-bok, who had been racing to uncover the secrets of the Dangsan Tree and Cheon-yeong, had finally been caught by Hui-yeong. And Hui-yeong was using Cheon-yeong to drive them into a corner.
Yang Ho-gun was already down from Baek-yeong's ambush. But they were outdoors — with Kang Geon-bok's martial skill, the two of them could have escaped together.
And yet, for some reason, he was hesitating.
"Every sin...?"
"Yes. Every last one."
Sensing Kang Geon-bok's hesitation, Hui-yeong smiled in a way that crawled under the skin. Then she tightened her grip on Cheon-yeong's shoulder.
Her fingers were digging through the fabric; it had to hurt. Cheon-yeong let a flicker of fear and anger toward Hui-yeong show, then locked her gaze on Kang Geon-bok.
Kang Geon-bok trembled and took a step back.
It was an ad-lib, not in the script — but Director Hong Il-beom let it ride. He'd been worried about the man who'd collapsed yesterday. If anything, the performance was even better.
Cheon-yeong had seen many men like Kang Geon-bok. People who dragged their guilt behind them and called it living. And in this era, guilt almost always had something to do with family.
Frightening people like that was, for Cheon-yeong, the easiest thing in the world.
"There are people suffering behind you. Your mother? Your father? I see your brothers and sisters as well. How have ones so young come to suffer such a fate?"
She tossed out the words like that, one after another, watching his face. Mother, father, brothers, sisters — at each, Kang Geon-bok flinched, or his expression tightened, and Cheon-yeong missed none of it.
Whether those siblings were older brothers, older sisters, or younger ones, she let slide for now.
Now it was time to find the sign.
Cheon-yeong twisted slightly, as if the divine power were too much to bear — but her face remained unnervingly calm. A gaze emptied of all feeling settled, still and quiet, on Kang Geon-bok.
Cheon-yeong drove Kang Geon-bok back with a voice rougher than usual, the questions coming fast. At every one, Kang Geon-bok shook.
A little disappointing.
Hong Il-beom's eyes narrowed.
In the lore, Cheon-yeong could tell truth from lie by reading a person's physical responses. Those tells were so minute that only Cheon-yeong, with her extraordinary powers of observation, could catch them.
But for this scene, Hong Il-beom had wanted the audience to see those differences too — so he'd asked Bae Su-chan in advance to make the reactions a little more distinct.
The Kang Geon-bok in front of him wasn't producing those subtle distinctions.
We'll keep rolling for now.
Still, the immersion Bae Su-chan was bringing to the role was excellent, so Hong Il-beom let it run.
What happened next had him on his feet before he could even call cut.
Kang Geon-bok, gone white as his own past came into sharper and sharper focus, staggered and crumpled to the ground.
"I— hah, I mean— hhah—"
Even his breathing had gone ragged. Filming stopped at once.
Jo Yong-jin, who'd been lying where he'd fallen in character, sat up and checked on him.
"Su-chan, are you all right?"
"Y-yes? Hh— hah. I— I'm..."
Bae Su-chan was still gasping too hard, his whole body shaking.
A road manager came running and administered first aid, but all they managed was to steady his breathing. He still looked bad.
"Aigoo, Director, I'm so sorry. Kang Geon— I mean, that brat Su-chan isn't usually this frail..."
Kim Jae-seok, the manager, came over to apologize without so much as a glance toward Bae Su-chan. Hong Il-beom couldn't get a word out.
A gut feeling took hold of him — he had just shot himself in the foot.