I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

“Please wake up.”

In the dim predawn before the sun had risen, someone shook Rio awake.

“Ah....”

It was none other than her nanny.

Having roused Rio at four-thirty, the nanny moved briskly. She applied imported French hair pomade to Rio’s hair and brushed a pale pink tint onto her lips.

At that same hour, Taeseok was out making deliveries on his bicycle as usual. On purpose, he slowed his pedaling near the Hanamura residence.

“......”

He stopped the bicycle for a moment.

Maybe today—just maybe—there would be a white hand resting on the top of the wall again. He waited for a while. Then he walked closer to the wall and peeked around.

“Ahem.”

He even cleared his throat to make sure she’d know he was there.

But the girl did not appear from the other side.

Taeseok lingered.

Powder was brushed onto Rio’s cheeks.

He clasped his hands behind his back for no reason and glanced over the wall.

Rio changed her clothes.

Taeseok looked up at the brightening sky.

Rio stared at herself in the vanity mirror.

Taeseok mounted his bicycle and moved forward again.

Rio remained seated in place.

Dressed in a neat blouse and skirt, a sparkling brooch pinned at her chest, Rio blinked like a doll. Her expressionless face, devoid of emotion, was delicate and beautiful.

Tak—.

The sliding door opened, and Rio followed behind her nanny.

Dark, heavy music began to play.

A contrabass bow scraped precariously across the strings.

Even just standing still made sweat trickle in the humid air, yet the servants and Rio lined up by the doorway.

Hanamura was the king of this place.

As he strode forward like someone born to rule, everyone bent at the waist in submission.

Exactly three seconds.

Rio now knew how to calculate the time it took for Hanamura to walk toward her.

Because she had something to do.

“Please go safely.”

Hanamura’s gaze held a suitable amount of satisfaction as he looked at his daughter, blooming brightly again today.

A greenhouse flower he raised himself.

One that could speak.

He cast a brief glance at Rio before stepping outside and climbing into the back seat of his luxury car.

Only after the jet-black vehicle left the estate did everyone straighten their backs.

“For the time being, Master will be leaving earlier in the mornings. The young lady’s wake-up time will also be moved forward accordingly, so please retire early.”

The nanny beside Rio spoke in a businesslike tone.

Rio nodded briefly and looked beyond the wall.

The sun was rising.

* * *

Taeseok’s day was busy as always. Ever since Hanamura had come to Jinhae, there was even more work.

As if collaborators were filling the empty spaces left by the Japanese who had returned home, well-dressed men in suits were easy to spot.

“Damn it. They should all just fall into the sea and die.”

“Bastards. Must’ve sucked plenty sweet off the Japanese to shine like that.”

They should have been glad work was increasing. If daily wages rose, they could grab something on the way home—rice cakes for a wife, candy for the children.

But the laborers couldn’t be purely happy.

“Hanamura’s the problem. Pulling in every Japanese lackey there is.”

They knew where that wealth came from.

“......”

Usually, Taeseok focused only on his work. But this time, he turned his head and looked at Hanamura.

For several days now, he’d been stopping his bicycle in front of that wall.

Some days he left earlier on purpose. Other times he stopped by after finishing deliveries.

Yet the girl still hadn’t appeared.

“......”

An idiot who didn’t even know that Jap-lover slur was a bad word.

An idiot who didn’t even know her own name properly.

As he thought of Rio out of habit, Taeseok pressed his lips tight in a straight line.

At that moment—

His eyes met Hanamura’s.

An ivory linen shirt pressed to sharp perfection. A thin wool-blend brown-gray vest over it. A light-gray jacket in military cotton with refined Japanese tailoring. A dark brown calfskin belt.

Hanamura looked impeccable.

He was a world apart from the wrinkled, dust-covered laborers.

“Taeseok! Let’s finish up quick!”

How long had they locked eyes?

At the call of a fellow worker, Taeseok lowered his back again and lifted the cargo.

Standing in a line, moving goods like a conveyor belt—pass, pass, pass—the laborers weren’t much different from the servants who had lined up to send Hanamura off.

Everyone bent before him.

Hanamura walked past Taeseok with an unhurried step.

“How amusing. For a Jap-lover slur... not to avert his gaze.”

He let out a small laugh.

* * *

[The Great Garland Gallery]

[Hanamura just let me hit you once I’m begging]

(photo of guns.jpg)

Just one shot!

Anonymous (222.35) push to trending

[Ah fuck my inner Gaksital is shaking]

(gif of ripping a Japanese flag.gif)

Anonymous (183.88) Gaksital oppa you watching

ㄴAnonymous (218.333) after liberation we lose nothing

-Yesterday’s ending was totally bait just to show this lol

[Something bad’s gonna happen later right..? I’m anxious as hell]

Like Hanamura catching them talking and beating Taeseok in front of Huijae... bad vibes

Anonymous (180.75) sounds delicious hope Myeong Jeha bleeds a lot....Hehe mouth watering

ㄴAnonymous (337.11) make them both cry hard

ㄴAnonymous (12.753) not child Myeong Jeha but real romance please///

IP 85.152 smiled as they observed the change in viewer atmosphere compared to yesterday.

“Right. A drama must be watched to the end to truly appreciate and savor the director’s intention.”

Cursing Han Yeoreum after only watching Episode 1 was hardly the posture of a true cultural appreciator.

IP 85.152 had spent all day yesterday spreading provocative posts about .

Not for Han Yeoreum.

They didn’t like her that excessively.

This was purely for the sake of the work.

“The aesthetic sense is excellent. The set, the music underneath it, the framing—there’s nothing to throw away.”

Now that everyone was cursing Hanamura instead of Huijae, IP 85.152 relaxed and analyzed the piece freely.

“This would be perfect as a musical....”

Thinking of successful works that had later been adapted for theater and musicals, IP 85.152 unconsciously clasped their hands together as if in prayer.

Just imagining on stage made them dizzy.

* * *

Rio crept into Hanamura’s study.

She crouched in front of a bookshelf filled only with volumes polished smooth from care.

Leather notebooks were lined up neatly.

After thinking for a moment, she picked the thinnest one.

Her hand trembled with tension as she slipped it out.

“Phew....”

Having barely stolen one notebook, Rio hurried back to her room, a fountain pen in one hand.

Her heart pounded. She placed her pale hand against her chest and steadied her breathing.

Scratch— scratch—.

Rio wrote her name inside the stolen notebook.

Her handwriting showed the results of strict tutoring.

She carefully tore out a small piece of paper.

“Hanamura Rio.”

She said it aloud once, as if the name felt unfamiliar.

Soon it was lunchtime. As always, the same woman carried in the tray.

“You’ve been eating well lately, miss, so I increased the portion a bit. If you get full, just leave some.”

The woman continued speaking, unaware that Rio understood properly now.

Ever since Rio had said, I’m a Joseon person, the woman {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} had been even more attentive.

Mixing gestures with her explanation of the dishes, she spoke warmly.

Suddenly, Rio held out the paper.

“What’s this? Oh my. Such neat handwriting.”

Rio smiled shyly at the woman’s admiration and pointed at herself with her index finger.

“Me. Hanamura Rio.”

“That’s your name? Such a pretty name.”

“Me. Joseon person. This.”

“Hmm?”

Rio kept pointing at the paper and saying it was her name.

After a few failed attempts to understand, the woman finally seemed to catch on. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

“You’re asking how to read this in Joseon? That’s what you’re curious about?”

Thinking the woman had understood, Rio nodded quickly.

“Cur... curious... so....”

Her small voice sounded embarrassed.

She knew almost no Joseon words.

It made her feel like a fool.

Afraid the woman might grow frustrated and dislike her, Rio lowered her gaze and peeked up cautiously.

“Well... truth is, I can’t read.... I’ll go ask someone and teach you tomorrow.”

The woman was just as embarrassed.

She was illiterate.

She had worked from dawn until night just to pay the tribute demanded by Japanese police. No matter how neatly Rio wrote her name, she couldn’t read it.

“Can’t you read my name in Joseon? Is it a name that doesn’t exist in Joseon? Does it only exist in Japanese?”

Unaware of the woman’s circumstances, Rio asked again.

Blushing, the woman laughed awkwardly and pointed outside.

“I’ll go ask quick! Tomorrow! I’ll teach you!”

She emphasized each word, but Rio couldn’t understand.

It probably meant she was busy and had to hurry.

Rio nodded, looking dejected.

“Eat... deliciously....”

Sitting before her meal in disappointment, Rio ended up eating less than half.

Food eaten alone wasn’t tasty.

“Director! It worked! It worked!”

“What worked?”

“First love!”

This was Jinhae.

The filming site of .

Because the night air had turned chilly, heaters were placed around the set. They glowed orange, faintly lighting the darkness.

“The mood online is insane right now. Everyone’s going crazy!”

When Episode 1 had been released yesterday, the staff of had smiled broadly.

They had smiled contentedly watching viewers rage.

Because they knew intense anger would soon turn into fervent love.

Already, the public now treated Huijae like a sore finger—something that hurt, but precious.

A uniquely Korean cultural instinct.

From the moment she said, I’m a Joseon person, Huijae became someone who, though the daughter of a collaborator, was still Joseon—someone to be included.

It’s okay if she makes mistakes.

It’s okay if she’s clumsy.

Huijae is given a pass.

She can be included among us Joseon people no matter what.

-Ah fuck Huijae eat your rice... TT_TT

- TT_TT Huijae T_T I’m crying so hard

-Even her father who should be closest to her and the nanny who came from Japan with her never show her affection.. they don’t say anything unless necessary... that’s why Huijae keeps clinging to human warmth... she usually avoids eye contact but she keeps making eye contact first with the servants...

“What’s the big deal.”

Director Ja was unimpressed.

To him, it was obvious.

That within thirty minutes of Episode 2 airing, Han Yeoreum’s Yeon Huijae would overturn people’s hearts.

“There are still thirty minutes left.”

The moment he was waiting for had not yet arrived.

The scene that would make everyone want to devote their lives to Yeon Huijae—

Just like Gi Taeseok.