I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

“Yeah. You’re a Joseon person. Not Joseon-jing—a Joseon person. From now on, say it like that.”

“Jo-seon... person....”

“I’m a Joseon person. Say it like this.”

“I... Jo-seon-per-son...-ye-yo. That’s how you say it.”

“Don’t copy the part after it. Just—‘I’m a Joseon person.’”

The girl repeated it one more time. I’m a Joseon person. Only then did Taeseok nod.

“I... thank you.”

Her pronunciation slipped sideways halfway through, but the way she tried was still admirable. Taeseok wiped the sticky back of his neck with one hand. He even took half a step back, as if he might smell like sweat.

“What’s your name.”

“Whass yo name.”

“...Don’t copy that, either.”

For the first time, Taeseok smiled. It was a smile like he couldn’t believe this nonsense, but the girl, thinking he was smiling because he liked her, laughed along with him.

“Me. Gi Taeseok. You? What is it. Name. What is it.”

“I’m Hanamura Rio.”

Now that he’d asked with words she knew, Rio answered quickly. Taeseok shook his head.

“Joseon name! Joseon!”

The girl, catching that he was asking for a different name, looked flustered. Because she didn’t know how to read her Joseon name.

After a brief moment of hesitation, the girl fluttered the hand she’d been gripping the wall with. Taeseok stepped closer. Then the girl lifted one hand. Taeseok copied her.

The moment he did, she snatched the raised hand and, on the palm packed full of calluses, wrote characters.

Soft fingers flew however they pleased. His whole body itched.

Before he knew it, the sun was slowly rising over the quiet world.

From the moment they faced each other, time flowed little by little, and the deep dawn came to an end. A single line of sunlight touched Taeseok’s palm.

After the girl finished writing her name, she asked,

“This. My name.”

“......”

Taeseok had frozen in place. Unable to answer her at all.

“Joseon person—how do you read my name?”

Her tiptoes must have started to hurt; she vanished under the wall for a moment to adjust her stance, then popped back up again.

Taeseok stumbled backward fast.

“Good lord, there’s really someone who don’t even know their own name. For real... for real, I swear....”

He grabbed the handlebar of the bicycle he’d left standing in a panic. The veins rose again on the back of his hand. Kicking the stand with his foot, he started pedaling hard.

“Dummy. Idiot. Name—don’t even know that name and you go grabbing somebody’s hand... like that... for real... doesn’t know a damn thing....”

Taeseok ran.

He could feel her gaze from behind, but he couldn’t turn around.

Maybe the idiot was him.

After handing over the liquor dregs meant to be used as fertilizer to the U.S. army base and returning to the port, Taeseok kept clenching and unclenching his right hand.

“Taeseok-! Work doable?”

Someone called to him from far away. Taeseok answered like he’d snapped awake.

“Yes.”

“If they’re rich, fuck, they oughta at least slip you some pocket money, but that dogshit bastard’s kid—heard he lives like he thinks he’s some damn Japanese, huh?”

Talking with the laborers, Taeseok scrubbed his right palm hard against his pants. He kept sweating.

That nameless girl had definitely done something to him.

“So what’s that house like?”

Taeseok took a breath for a moment.

As if recalling something.

“...Pretty. Like, insanely.”

Woo-woong—.

A huge ship horn sounded, and Taeseok had to run again.

As he hurried off to haul cargo, a smile was floating on the boy’s face.

* * *

“This is it!”

Writer Ahn trembled as he watched Episode 2, perfectly made. Everything was exactly as it was in his head.

Especially the clip of Huijae writing her name on Taeseok’s hand—he expected it to clear at least two million views.

“Director Ja... KRAAAAAAGH!”

That scene where they only held hands—honestly, it killed it. The boy’s palm covered in wounds and calluses, and the girl’s hand in perfect contrast—there was nothing better for keeping the “deducks” awake at night.

“You pulled the shot so damn well!”

Crushing the empty beer can, Writer Ahn stomped his feet as he checked the internet reactions.

They were completely different from yesterday.

[♨The Great Garland Episode 2 Thread♨]

-Now I get why they put in that scene in ep1 where she’s shaking because she’s scared of her dad.. no matter how much of a piece of trash you are, fuck, you don’t spend your whole life calling your own daughter Joseon-jing

-When I think about our ancestors who died without seeing liberation, I cry.. T_T

-Director Ja: hehe get mad

Me: fucking rage

Director Ja: hehe cry

Me: fucking tears

-They say if you look at writing from that era, kids really couldn’t speak anything but Japanese and only knew the names they were forced to take.. feels like the writer just did the period research like crazy

Joseon-jing. Because that was the only word she knew, Rio must have locked herself inside it.

Before long, viewers understood Rio. They pitied her—and at the same time despised Hanamura, who denied his own roots while scraping money into his pockets.

Alone once more in the quiet room, Rio lay down on the bed like she always did. A life always left there by itself, like fruit or flowers used in a still-life painting—but today was different.

“I... Joseon person-ye-yo.”

She put clumsy Joseon words in her mouth.

“Joseon person.”

As if she’d only now figured out who she was.

“Jo-seon... per-son....”

She repeated it, like she never got tired of it. Each time she spoke, a smile spread across Rio’s face. Beyond the open window, the blue sky stretched out as always. Rio lifted her hands and folded them over her stomach.

It didn’t hurt like it usually did. If anything, it tickled. Like a swarm of butterflies beating their wings.

“I’m a Joseon person....”

Kobe and Joseon had the same sky, so she never knew what was where. But now Rio knew. This place was Joseon. And she was not Joseon-jing, but a Joseon person.

“Joseon person!”

Rio felt like she’d become a butterfly, flying far and free over this blue sky.

* * *

As usual, after the woman carrying the tray delivered the meal and shut the door behind her, Rio was alone again.

Thinking hard about something, Rio chugged the water in the teapot—gulp, gulp, gulp. Soon, the small pot was emptied.

Rio slowly picked up the empty teapot and stepped outside. In case the nanny might hear, she killed the sound of her footsteps and crept along.

With every step forward, she could hear people chattering loudly.

“Breathe while you work!”

“Oh my god. You went and swept it all up by yourself.”

No matter what was so funny, laughter kept bursting out without end. Someone who spotted Rio approaching quietly flinched in surprise.

“The daughter? No, no—miss, you’ve come.”

“What can we give you?”

They were gathered around eating. Their table was shabby compared to Rio’s, but it looked like the taste was on a whole other level. Just eating together seemed to double the appetite.

“This....”

Rio lifted the teapot she’d brought as an excuse. She took in the servants’ meal again with her eyes, then said to the servant who hurriedly poured her water,

“I... Joseon person...-ye-yo.”

Exactly the way Taeseok had taught her. She’d repeated it so many times that now she could pronounce it pretty convincingly. Hearing Rio’s greeting, the servants erupted.

“Oh my god? You can even speak our language?”

“Your voice is this pretty and you only say two words all day long. Say it again!”

The servants who’d kept their distance patted Huijae’s back and shoulders. Because she was about the age of their kids. With the small teapot in her hands, Rio wriggled her toes.

“You gotta eat your rice good, but you always only eat a bean’s worth. Huh?”

“Does the food not suit your mouth?”

Words she couldn’t understand.

Still, she could tell they were happy to see her.

Joy colored Rio’s cheeks.

After sneaking back into her room, Rio sat at her table. She turned the horizontally placed pair of chopsticks and spoon to stand vertically.

Like those people earlier.

Like those Joseon people who’d been delighted that she could speak their language.

With a proud face, Rio put her hands together, palms pressed.

“Eat... deliciously.”

Each time she set down her spoon and chopsticks, Rio tried out the words she’d heard earlier, talking to herself. It wasn’t Japanese anymore.

“Eat... deliciously.”

Not knowing what “delicious” meant, Rio simply said exactly what the servant had said.

It was the best meal of everything she’d ever eaten.

Sweet potato yokan that someone said a craftsman made, tiny star-shaped candies in bright colors, milk chocolate from across the sea—none of that could compare.

That day, for the first time, Rio finished a whole bowl of rice.

-Huijae... unni’s heart is ripping apart T_T

-From now on anyone who attacks Yeon Huijae will be considered as attacking me touch her and I will execute you

-Our kid’s going beaming smiling.. she’s this happy just because someone said a few words to her...

-Ah fuck what kind of environment did she live in that she’s happy all by herself just copying the shape of the cutlery I’m going insane

-Teacher Huijae’s shadowing is way too good. I can’t handle this TT__TT TT__TT

It was a legendary scene that created a million “Huijae moms.”

“Ah, she’s so fucking cute....”

Aetami held her forehead and groaned. As ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) if nothing had happened, viewers started feeling different emotions toward Huijae.

Heartbreaking, admirable, and—adorable.

-I watched because of the controversy but wtf I didn’t expect it to be like this... T_T

︎˪LOLOL Sokhwan-ah, you should’ve told us earlier, sorry you bastard!

Episode 1’s ending-scene bait had already pulled in a ton of new viewers. Episode 2, met in a state of rage, melted their hearts in an instant.

“What was yesterday’s ratings again?”

Aetami checked Episode 1’s viewership rating. 9.7%—a pretty solid number. They hadn’t been able to do proper pre-promo, and it still happened purely off the name value.

Director Ja Sokhwan and writer Ahn Junmyeong, top actors Ji Haebeom and Eun Baekhap, and even rising stars Han Yeoreum and Myeong Jeha—everyone together had pushed Episode 1 right up near double digits.

“If it stays like this....”

Aetami swallowed.

At this pace, it would break into double digits by Episode 2.

“Maybe....”

Could it be carving a new line into the history of national dramas? With half tension and half anticipation, Aetami fixed her gaze on the screen again.