Chapter 20: I Can Show You a Different Performance.

“검” is a historical drama, but not a traditional one.

Strictly speaking, it is a fusion historical drama that combines fictional imagination with modern sensibilities.

The world’s greatest, Wi Ji-hye, took on a disciple.

A terminally ill Haryeong.

The burden on Haryeong’s shoulders was heavy.

Being terminally ill, Haryeong’s life would soon end, but before dying, the goal was to experience the position of the world’s greatest.

Thus, each day was filled with urgency.

For that reason, Haryeong learned under Wi Ji-hye.

More eagerly than anyone else.

However, maintaining the position of the world’s greatest requires effort.

Wi Ji-hye was busy facing challengers from various regions, and the time spent teaching the disciple was extremely short.

In fact, the teachings were simple.

—Swing it.

That was it.

—Swing it.

Wi Ji-hye didn’t provide any other teachings, but despite that, Haryeong quietly followed the instructions.

Swinging the sword was fundamental, and nothing was more important than the basics.

Also, it was the teacher’s command, so there was no resistance.

—Swing it.

However, the instructions didn’t end.

Even if it was done a hundred times.

A thousand times.

Ten thousand times.

For one day.

For one week.

For one month.

The problem arose when death finally approached.

Cough!

One day, Haryeong coughed.

The white sleeves, which had always covered the mouth, were stained red.

Blood was pouring out, and there was a significant amount.

At that moment, when Haryeong realized that there was little time left to live…

Haryeong quickly turned around at the sound of footsteps.

Somehow, Wi Ji-hye was standing there.

Her master must have known well too.

That Haryeong’s life was nearing its end.

A tense atmosphere filled the air.

Wi Ji-hye. Would she pity her disciple, who had little time left, and teach her something? Or would she simply watch her die in silence?

Would she abandon her, reasoning that a short life meant no need for further training?

When Haryeong was filled with uncertainty…

Wi Ji-hye, with a skillful move, picked up the sword that had fallen to the ground.

She quietly placed it into Haryeong’s bloodstained hands.

—Swing it.

Once again, there were no exceptions.

Still, that was the command.

—By today, you must complete one hundred thousand swings.

—If you do not, you are not qualified.

Haryeong, who had just coughed up blood and could barely stand, knew her master’s intentions. Despite knowing her condition, Wi Ji-hye maintained a cold attitude.

Suddenly, something twisted in Haryeong’s heart.

There must be a deep reason for her master’s actions.

No, her master has already abandoned her.

Just as the sword has two edges,

Haryeong began to hold two conflicting thoughts,
and thus, “The Sword” begins.

Finally, the interview began.

“Haryeong, you’re in no condition to even stand, let alone swing the sword.

Let’s tell the master. You need rest, you’re in no state to continue…”

The person who just spoke the lines was Director Park.

He was assisting the other disciple’s role, who was concerned about Haryeong holding the sword.

Park Jun is a director, not an actor.

In fact, he spoke in a stiff tone, almost like the intonation in a textbook.

But despite that,

“My sword is still intact. Why should I worry about my body?”

Sua had already become Haryeong and replied.

It was accompanied by the motion of swinging the practice wooden sword from top to bottom.

Whoosh—

The arm that swung trembled with a slight quiver.

Park Jun swallowed his saliva.

A sword like that shouldn’t be swung so precariously.

It may appear to be a wooden sword, but it was an empty prop.

The actual weight would be as light as a feather.

Yet, Haryeong was acting.

Despite having spent a lifetime honing swordsmanship,

Haryeong couldn’t help but be full of doubts.

Her death was near, yet Wi Ji-hye only commanded her to swing the sword.

‘To express that feeling through the sword? So clearly?’

Sua’s hand moved powerfully once more.

Whoosh─!

The motion was much stronger than before.

The sword has no will of its own.

It simply follows the path that the person holding it dictates.

And so, Haryeong’s swordplay was never constant.

Her mind, as it held the sword, wavered.

Shim-ma (心).

The technique of expressing the torment of the heart sharply.

Park Jun suddenly glanced at the script.

p.37 S#3 Training Ground/Dawn

Haryeong swings the sword.

The swordplay was never consistent, full of doubts.

But she had to fulfill the requirement and swing it.

Surprisingly, the script only described this.

‘It’s an easy scene to read, but when you think about it, it’s incredibly difficult to act out.

Yet, the interviewee managed to pull it off…’

The prop that Sua swung seemed about to slip from her grasp.

Her complexion was pale, and her arm trembled like the last leaf clinging to a tree on a stormy day.

Still, Sua kept her gaze fixed straight ahead and spoke.

“Junior. Please count the repetitions.”

“Huh? Oh, right.”

Park Jun, lost in admiration, snapped back to his senses.

“Five thousand three hundred twenty.”

Her swordplay was inconsistent.

It was because of the worries in her heart.

“Five thousand three hundred twenty-one.”

Her swordplay was still erratic.

It was due to the many doubts she held.

How many more times did she swing?

“…This isn’t going to work. Haryeong, we should stop. To reach 100,000 repetitions by this dawn? It’s an impossible command.”

“Still, I must try.”

“Look at your condition. It’s a miracle that you’re even standing. The speed at which you’re swinging the sword is also slowing down,

isn’t it?”

“I mustn’t swing it even once carelessly.”

That was one of the few teachings that Wi Ji-hye had given Haryeong.

Even though Haryeong also had many doubts in her mind.

Should I leave now? Should I question my master?

Should I abandon everything and calmly wait for death…?

Everything felt so fearful and shaky.

That feeling, it transfers to the sword.

It shakes continuously, and it keeps stopping.

Like a swan paddling in place under the water.

‘What…’

Park Jun was nothing short of amazed.

People believe that the director intends every scene.

But that’s only half true, and half wrong.

In the end, it’s the actor’s role to manifest the character dressed in the costume of the role.

The many interviewees who visited today and portrayed Haryeong focused on the emotion of ‘struggle.’

The sense of despair that even in a painful situation, they must fulfill the repetition count.

But Sua was different.

She focused solely on the question.

Her face held an intense question, one that could not even feel the pain.

Why did the master give this command?

Why? Why? Why?

As Park Jun marveled, Sua swung the sword.

How many times did she draw different sword paths?

Rot.

Whoosh!

The sound was different from before.

There were still many repetitions to complete the 100,000, but her expression had lightened slightly.

P… Not.

She adopted the stance. Lifted. Struck.

Even though it was a simple movement, it was clearly different from before.

When she swung it three more times steadily, Sua’s eyes widened.

The expression of a swordsman who found the answer.

Huff—!

Sua took a deep breath and struck the sword down.

Her body was drenched in sweat, and her complexion was worse than before.

But for some reason, the corners of her mouth kept rising.

“Swing it.”

Master said, “This is why…”

“Haryeong, your sword…”

The line Park Jun spoke just now wasn’t in the tone of reading a textbook.

There was no need to try acting; he was genuinely surprised.

It had become consistent. The sword Haryeong, no, Sua was swinging.

“Junior, how is my sword? It’s hard to see.”

“…You’ve surrounded it with light. Even the moon is gazing at your sword.”

He nodded, as though he was getting the expected response.

Sua continued to swing the sword.

The stance, lift, and strike. The movements flowed like water, becoming more and more seamless until the boundaries blurred and the

swordplay transformed into a sword dance.

Like blooming flowers, it was simple yet graceful.

Haryeong, that is, Sua, hesitantly asked,

“Isn’t it awkward at all?”

“Yes, but it’s not bad. And you look happy.”

Then Sua, with rare signs of a smile, seemed to be preparing to do something.

Park Jun reacted immediately.

‘Something’s not in the script. What is she trying to do? Is it an ad-lib?’

He concentrated, holding his breath in anticipation.

‘What could it be, what is she preparing?’

Ad-lib. It’s the unique, personal answer that an actor comes up with.

It was only natural for someone of such talent to leave their own answer, to be curious about what it was.

Park Jun waited solely for that answer.

Sua read his expression perfectly.

She smiled, dropping the sword, and a loud beep from the timer filled the room.

It had been exactly 10 minutes, with not a single second of error.

“…This is unbelievable.”

Park Jun murmured in a daze.

The shock hit him like a meteor. All sorts of worries sprang up around him.

‘I didn’t know she had this kind of skill. I’m going crazy all of a sudden.’

Sua’s acting brought intense distress.

It was impressive. Really impressive.

So impressive that it made Park Jun reconsider the decision to quit the movie, as well as wonder whether he should retract his

retirement.

Looking over, Yang Ha-rin’s expression had also changed from before.

Her eyes held an unmistakable glimmer.

“… Director Park, who is that girl?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Sua.

She was desirable, truly a talented newcomer.

But…

Park Jun shook his head soon after.

He knew what that glimmer in Yang Ha-rin’s eyes meant.

It was the expression of a predator who had just found its prey.

‘If she’s this skilled, she should have plenty of other opportunities to shine. I shouldn’t let her meet Ha-rin. She has ruined more than

one promising newcomer already.’

If she had such talent, there was no need to let her clash with Ha-rin.

It would be nothing short of a tragedy if Sua got broken and became ruined.

Park Jun made up his mind and cautiously spoke,

“Ha-rin, we should still drop her. It’s not just about acting well, but you two just aren’t compatible.”

“No.”

Ha-rin’s voice was firm.

“Attach it. Director Park, that girl. Attach her no matter what.”

“Ha-rin, don’t do that. Just—”

“Attach her, didn’t you hear me?”

Her words were filled with madness.

Ha-rin’s gaze was so sharp that Park Jun instinctively pulled his head back.

But soon, he cleverly changed the subject, trying to stay calm.

“By the way, aren’t you curious about the ad-lib she was going to do at the end?”

“That’s exactly why I said attach her. I want to see that.”

Indeed, it seemed Ha-rin had noticed what Park Jun had realized. She was curious about the ad-lib that Sua had almost done.

“There’s no reason to attach her now. You can just ask her to do it.”

Park Jun expertly reset the timer. Five minutes.

Then, he called out to Sua, who was catching her breath across the room.

“Sua.”

“Yes.”

Sua nodded quietly.

“Your acting and time control were both excellent. But personally, I’m curious about the ad-lib you were going to do. I’ll give you five more minutes. Could you show me that?”

“No.”

A brief silence followed.

Park Jun blinked in surprise.

The answer he received was far beyond his expectations.

“Pardon?”

No? Did I hear that correctly?

Did she just refuse to show me a bit more? Usually, no one turns down a request from an interviewer.

As he was taken aback by her response, Sua added, perhaps somewhat teasingly,

“But I can show you another piece of acting.”

“Like, playing Wi Ji-hye, for example.”