I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

* * *

Yeon Huijae walked slowly. Without swaying to either side, she kept a straight, vertical axis perfectly upright and advanced one step at a time.

As if it were ingrained in her body that others should naturally wait for her.

The narrow hem of her brushed kimono skirt scraped against her knees, preventing her from stepping forward too quickly. Even walking itself was something harshly trained into Huijae.

She bent her knees as little as possible, kept her back fully straight, and maintained her gaze at a forty-five-degree downward angle.

And finally—her stride was even.

‘Huijae.’

Director Ja thought that as he watched Han Yeoreum through the monitor. Before filming, Writer An and Director Ja had been deep in discussion.

“There’s an abandoned factory here in Jinhae, so if we use it well—.”

“Right. It’ll definitely give us a picture.”

Writer An spoke while looking at the location still cuts on her tablet PC.

“Which scene are you starting with for the first shoot?”

“Of course Taeseok recalling young Huijae.”

The drama was half pre-produced. The teaser had to hook viewers as much as possible with Huijae and Taeseok.

The very idea that a successful Taeseok still carried his first love in his heart would concentrate the audience’s anticipation in an instant.

“Director, and here in Episode 1—you see this background?”

Writer An tapped a section of the Episode 1 script with her finger. It was the scene where Huijae entered the photo studio.

“The background? Why?”

“Make it a pear blossom garden.”

Director Ja knew the meaning Writer An was trying to insert. As a Joseon woman living in Kobe, it was a deliberate move to clearly establish Huijae’s position.

So that the viewers, just as Han Yeoreum had seen through it, could also realize that Huijae disliked pear blossoms.

“Why? Weren’t you saving that for later?”

“I was.”

Writer An ruffled her hair.

“But I don’t know. I changed my mind.”

Something inside her had been stirred by the fact that green kids like Myeong Jeha and Han Yeoreum had seen straight through her true intention.

After receiving the script-reading video for 〈The Great Garland〉, Writer An found her attention drawn to Han Yeoreum.

“You like her, don’t you?”

“Who.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

Director Ja jotted down Writer An’s request in the Episode 1 script.

“The script-reading video—the sound quality’s different, isn’t it?”

At that remark, Director Ja imagined Writer An being hit squarely where it hurt and clapped his hands lightly.

“All right! Let’s go again in close-up!”

He beckoned Taeseok, who had been facing Huijae from across.

“How is it?”

“She’s good.”

Yeon Huijae carried herself as though no one in front of her even existed. She didn’t so much as spare Ji Haebeom a glance.

Ji Haebeom stood behind Director Ja, taking Huijae in through the monitor.

This time they had to capture Huijae’s face in detail as she stepped into the car. Through the camera, her jet-black hair fluttered in the wind. The nanny opened the car door and supported Huijae. As she climbed up, her face filled the monitor.

For a moment, Huijae pressed her lower lip tightly, then closed it into a straight line.

‘...This....’

‘She’s doing it properly.’

It was something Gi Juye had prepared like a decisive blow at her audition. That distinct Eun Baekhap-esque tone.

If Gi Juye had tried to connect the child and adult versions through her voice, Han Yeoreum spoke through her expression.

A natural habit that seemed to surface unconsciously.

So that viewers could accept the growth naturally, Han Yeoreum had melted even Eun Baekhap into her own Huijae.

* * *

“Director! Director!”

“All right! Let’s eat—.”

Director Ja ignored the voice calling him and ran toward the catering truck. His steps were light; he was satisfied with today’s shoot. The first day had started exceptionally well. It was a good omen.

“News, huff, huff...! The news! I think you need to see this!”

“Come on. Let’s eat.”

The assistant director hurried up beside him, panting. Director Ja, as usual, said only what he wanted. The assistant director’s grip on his arm was strong.

“We’re screwed....”

His face pale as a sheet, the assistant director spoke. Unfazed, Director Ja stamped his feet while watching the staff rushing toward the catering truck.

“Today’s sausage day!”

And then the assistant director dropped the bomb.

“The Chinese investment—they’re pulling all of it.”

The assistant director loosened his grip and held up his phone. An urgent breaking news banner filled the screen.

[China finally draws its sword... Announces THAAD retaliation ‘Korean Wave ban’]

Thud.

Director Ja collapsed to the ground where he stood.

It was the arrival of hell.

* * *

There was a famous saying.

‘Never put all your eggs in one basket.’

In case something happened, don’t concentrate investment in one place—spread it out safely.

“One of these will hit big!”

That was why entertainment investors spread their money octopus-style across this project and that one.

Just then, the popularity of Hallyu in China had been extraordinary. If you made it, they bought it. If you made it, they bought it. They bought everything without question.

—Chinese authorities have reportedly issued a high-intensity Korean Wave ban, prohibiting the broadcasting of Korean dramas and banning Korean entertainers from appearing on television. Correspondent Jo Jinyoung reports from Beijing.

But what if the egg basket suddenly met a typhoon and shattered all at once?

—With this measure, not only satellite channels across 31 provinces and cities but also internet platforms are expected to be regulated.

The so-called Korean Wave ban. A directive blocking all Korean dramas, films, variety programs, and even remade Korean content within China.

—Fan ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) meetings of Hallyu stars in China have been completely canceled, large-scale dramas that were about to begin filming have been postponed, and other projects have been put on hold from the planning stage.

In just one year, the THAAD retaliation reduced the operating profits of twenty-four listed companies by 912.4 billion won. The damage was immense.

—A representative of a major domestic production company stated that Chinese investors suddenly withdrew from contracts, despite having already secured filming sets and cast actors, resulting in enormous losses.

Especially in an entertainment industry where there was hardly a project untouched by Chinese capital, it was utter devastation. In the film industry alone, the officially announced figure reached 22 trillion won.

—According to expert analysis, the Republic of Korea’s economic growth rate is expected to decrease by 0.2 percent....

A red light had been lit in Korea. It was a full-scale emergency.

“Did you try contacting China?”

“They’re not picking up!”

“Ahhhh!”

It didn’t end with cutting off the investment funds. Big-budget Hallyu star dramas produced with the Chinese market in mind would be lucky to break even, and projects already in crank-in had come to a complete halt.

“It’s all going down!”

[Red Light for Korean Entertainment... The Sorrowful Fall of Hallyu Stars]

[SBC 〈Top Class〉 Completely Suspended on Chinese Streaming Platforms... “Overseas rights meaningless”]

[Illegal Chinese Sites on the Rise? “If we can’t pay to watch, we’ll watch for free” — An embarrassing reality]

“This... this is bad....”

Right now, sitting on the studio floor in the exact same posture as Director Ja, Ahn Junmyeong was breaking out in a cold sweat.

“We’ve only just started Episode 1....”

〈The Great Garland〉 was a period drama. It required three full settings: Joseon immediately after Japanese occupation, Jinhae after the Korean War, and Seoul during the economic boom.

“The sets... what do we do....”

At this rate, it might be suspended indefinitely. The internal losses at KBC alone were enormous.

Both dramas and films were brutal group assignments made by countless people working together.

“We’re really screwed.”

Even when one person collapsed, the damage was great. Now everyone was staggering together.

Writer An clutched the newly completed Episode 13 script of 〈The Great Garland〉 and closed her eyes.

Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz.

It was then. As if to jolt her out of despair, her phone began to vibrate in her hand.