Han Woo-ri once received advice from Taeha. Instead of trying to become a person who speaks well just to deliver lines, she should act as someone who delivers lines well. That very day, Han Woo-ri decided to practice acting that way.
However…
‘It didn’t go as well as I thought.’
It was harder than expected to discard the practice methods that had become ingrained like a habit. That was just the way it was. Habits formed at age three last until eighty. Once a bad habit was formed, correcting it was nearly impossible—to the point where it felt easier not to bother at all.
Thus, Han Woo-ri’s first task was to shed her old bad habits. Unfortunately, she was unable to discard those habits by the time filming for *Heureojeo Itdeon Saramdeul* ended.
‘My habits were already deeply ingrained because of the repetitive practice.’
It was a real shame for her. Like many actors who appeared in *Heureojeo Itdeon Saramdeul*, Han Woo-ri received many casting offers after the drama ended. However, she had no choice but to decline them all and immerse herself in changing her practice method.
The opportunities were a waste, but she felt she wouldn’t be able to properly handle a role in her current state anyway. She focused solely on this task from the end of *Heureojeo Itdeon Saramdeul* until the filming of *Virus* began.
And finally, she realized it. The bad habits had completely vanished. After that, Han Woo-ri began practicing acting exactly as Taeha had taught her.
Looking back on it now…
‘That wasn’t an easy task either.’
How could she, someone who wasn’t a good speaker, act as a person who delivered lines well? No matter how much she practiced using the method Taeha taught her, it felt like her skills weren’t improving.
This situation continued until *Virus* ended and filming for *Killer* began. By then, Han Woo-ri had been without income for so long that maintaining her independence became difficult. To keep living on her own, she needed to work. She was barely scraping by with part-time jobs, but that had its limits.
Yet, she felt like all her efforts so far would go to waste if she started acting again just to make money. So, after much deliberation, she swallowed her pride and moved back to her parents’ home. There, she continued to practice. She did it so she wouldn’t remain a half-baked actor who was only good at facial expressions.
Then, one day…
“Suddenly, the lines started flowing out. To the point where I doubted if it was really me delivering them.”
It was a marvelous thing. The experience of becoming someone else and delivering lines that surpassed her own self. For Han Woo-ri, it was the moment her vague belief became reality.
And by the time *Killer* was released and left theaters after recording 10 million viewers, Han Woo-ri had grown one step further. She wasn’t just acting like someone who delivered lines well; she had become capable of adjusting those lines freely to fit the character.
Finally, Han Woo-ri was able to act at the level she desired. While feeling the thrill, she began to carefully select her comeback project. Since it had been so long, no casting offers remained. She would have to audition.
But because she was confident in her skills, she didn’t intend to audition for just any project. Instead, she planned to be extremely cautious.
‘It was my first chance to show the viewers how much I’d changed.’
That was when she happened to find out about the audition for a sub-role in *Your Radiant Shine*. To Han Woo-ri, this coincidence felt like a sign. It had to be. Auditions were being held for a project by Taeha, her benefactor, just as her acting had reached completion.
It was a great opportunity. A chance to repay his kindness while showing her benefactor her progress. She auditioned for *Your Radiant Shine* and was ultimately cast in the role of Kim Tae-yang.
For Han Woo-ri, it was a satisfying result.
‘Because I succeeded in achieving my goal.’
Now, all that was left was to play the role of Kim Tae-yang at 200% capacity to be of help to Taeha. However, after receiving the completed script for *Your Radiant Shine* rather than just the audition pages, Han Woo-ri had no choice but to change her mind.
It wasn’t Taeha who was being helped by her appearance in *Your Radiant Shine*. It was her. The quality of the script for *Your Radiant Shine* was that incredible. The moment she finished reading it, a thought occurred to her.
‘If I can just pull this off… Kim Tae-yang will be the best role of my life!’
Direct comparison was impossible due to the difference in genres, but in some ways, she felt *Your Radiant Shine* was a better work than *Heureojeo Itdeon Saramdeul*. Actually, Taeha had shown a similar level of skill in *Virus* as he had in *Heureojeo Itdeon Saramdeul*. But *Your Radiant Shine* was a work with even more strengths than *Virus*.
So, it wasn’t strange to feel this way. And at least to Han Woo-ri, this project was indeed superior to *Heureojeo Itdeon Saramdeul*. The importance of her role was incomparably higher than when she was an apprentice priest.
Unlike before, she was also confident. Because through her efforts, she was no longer a half-baked actor. She held onto the expectation that she, too, could soar through this opportunity.
However…
‘I learned humility after watching Taeha’s acting.’
Shin So-hee wasn’t the only one shocked during the filming of the final scene of the First Act. Han Woo-ri was also immensely surprised. Before then, Taeha’s acting had honestly felt only slightly better than her own.
So, Han Woo-ri had felt secretly satisfied and clenched her fists. She thought that if she worked just a little harder, she could catch up to him. But after watching the filming of the final scene of the First Act, she realized the truth.
Until now, Taeha had been controlling his skill level for the impact of this very scene. If that wasn’t the case, his incredible performance couldn’t be explained. Not only did he overwhelm the set with his heat, but Han Woo-ri even felt a cold sweat running down her spine.
In fact, after filming the final scene of the First Act, Taeha had completely let go of the brakes and began to demonstrate his full acting prowess. He provided an overwhelming sense of immersion in every scene. Because of that, Han Woo-ri had to admit she had been excessively arrogant about her own skills.
Just as she was feeling a bit dejected, Taeha approached her.
“Senior, your acting has really improved. What on earth happened while I wasn’t looking?”
Han Woo-ri received unexpected praise from Taeha. Her expression showed surprise for a moment, but she soon smiled and scratched her head. She was satisfied to be praised by him, but she also felt unnecessarily embarrassed.
Han Woo-ri began to explain what had happened to Taeha.
“Well…”
***
Taeha couldn’t help but be surprised after hearing how Han Woo-ri overcame her dialogue issues. It was fascinating to learn that her immense effort had started from his advice. On the other hand, he felt very grateful. The fact that she took the advice of a mere junior seriously and even put in the work moved him.
‘Han Woo-ri will probably become a great actress. There’s no way an actor so serious about their craft wouldn’t succeed.’
And along with that success, money and fame would soon follow. Taeha hoped *Your Radiant Shine* would be the catalyst for it. Of course, that wasn’t something Taeha could decide. The script had come out satisfactorily and filming was progressing smoothly, but ultimately, choosing the work was up to the viewers.
All Taeha could do was give his best to create the work and wait for the results. Anyway, after hearing Han Woo-ri’s entire story, Taeha decided to be more active on set. It wasn’t that there was more he could do in terms of acting. Taeha was already exerting his maximum acting ability.
Appearing in a script he had written himself was very difficult and had many disadvantages, but there was one certain advantage.
‘The fact that I don’t need separate script analysis.’
He was the writer, so why would he need script analysis as an actor? He just had to act according to what he felt and imagined while writing the script. Because of that, Taeha was feeling the greatest sense of satisfaction regarding the acting portion of filming *Your Radiant Shine*.
However, being satisfied with the acting didn’t mean he was satisfied with every part of *Your Radiant Shine*. Being on set, he couldn’t help but see things that were disappointing or lacking from a writer’s perspective. Taeha had been trying not to mention these parts until now.
But…
‘I’ve changed my mind. Everyone on this set wants it.’
It started with the director of *Your Radiant Shine*, Im Kyung-ho. Even before filming began, Im Kyung-ho had asked Taeha trivial questions about the script to a somewhat excessive degree. It was the same after filming started. He always explained how he would shoot a scene before filming and sought Taeha’s opinion. It was the same even for scenes that had nothing to do with the role of Jung Si-hoo.
“Okay. Then let’s finalize the scene like that. But if there’s ever a problem, tell me anytime. If it’s your opinion, Taeha, I’m willing to go through a full revision.”
Im Kyung-ho always added that. But Taeha had tried his best to ignore Im Kyung-ho’s comments. He thought that if he really interfered on set as Im Kyung-ho suggested, there might be people who would feel uncomfortable. Specifically, he thought the actors and staff who had to move according to the director’s instructions might find it difficult.
However, that was just Taeha’s assumption. Both Shin So-hee and Han Woo-ri wanted acting coaching from Taeha. It happened after the filming of the final scene of the First Act.
Shin So-hee approached Taeha first and spoke.
“Taeha, is there anything lacking in my acting?”
“Lacking?”
“Yes. I thought a writer might see things differently.”
“Ah. There’s nothing in particular.”
“Nothing? If there is, I’d like you to tell me…”
It wasn’t just Shin So-hee. After finishing the story of how she became good at delivering lines, Han Woo-ri also asked Taeha.
“What do you think is lacking from your perspective?”
“Pardon?”
“My acting. Since you’re the writer and an actor with overwhelming skill, I thought you might see the deficiencies in my acting objectively.”
Even Kim Se-mi came to Taeha and said something similar. So, Taeha had no choice but to make up his mind. He would get more involved in this filming. He felt that if everyone wanted it and he didn’t get involved, that would be a true dereliction of duty.
As Taeha began to get involved in the project in earnest, the atmosphere on set slowly began to change. Surprisingly, the atmosphere became even better. It was only natural. Thanks to Taeha’s passionate directing, the other actors were also influenced by his immersion.
Thus, even in scenes where Jung Si-hoo did not appear, great moments were staged consecutively in *Your Radiant Shine*. It was the moment the quality of *Your Radiant Shine* advanced to the next level.
***
At the same time.
Incheon International Airport.
An actor, whose aura couldn’t be fully hidden even though their face was completely covered, muttered to themselves.
“Finally, Korea. I wonder how he’s doing?”
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