Chapter 16: The Space Between Two Glances

Following Kim Hyuin’s beckoning hand, Sim Eunchan stepped inside and found that someone else was already there. It was Park Yoonwoo, who played the male lead, Lee Muhun. Coincidences like this were rare—he was incredibly lucky.

Park Yoonwoo had strong, striking features as well, but unlike Kim Hyuin, who gave off a soft and cute impression, Yoonwoo’s slightly upturned eyes made him look cold and sharp when his face was expressionless.

Eunchan hurriedly rose from his seat and bowed as Yoonwoo inclined his head in greeting. Yoonwoo returned the bow, and had Kim Hyuin not laughed and stopped them, the two might have continued bowing at each other for quite some time.

“We were in the same web drama before,” Kim Hyuin explained, even though no one had asked.

Eunchan nodded.
“You were in Because I Like You, right? As Seungwoo and Jihyung.”

He felt it was only right to know the filmography of people he was working with, so he’d looked it up beforehand. Since the two had appeared together, he’d even watched bits and pieces whenever he had spare time. Kim Hyuin aside, Park Yoonwoo’s acting had especially stood out—solid and convincing.

When Eunchan checked people’s status windows one per day to understand the evaluation system, Yoonwoo’s star potential had been rated S, while his acting skill, expressiveness, and line delivery were all A-rank. Seeing that, Eunchan had nodded in agreement.

Backed by that level of skill, Park Yoonwoo would rise to the ranks of top actors after this drama and the next, with strong ratings to match. He had a sharp eye for scripts, and nearly every project he chose turned into a hit.

Eunchan had hoped they might become closer while working on the same drama, but he hadn’t expected such an opportunity to come so naturally.

At Eunchan’s words, both Kim Hyuin and Park Yoonwoo looked genuinely surprised.

“How did you know that? I mean—it didn’t do well, so asking if you watched it feels kind of awkward.”

“I didn’t watch all of it… just bits and pieces while waiting on set.”

“…Wow.”

Yoonwoo looked honestly touched. It seemed he felt goodwill toward Eunchan for taking the time to look up his earlier work, when he’d still been close to unknown. Leaning forward in his seat, Yoonwoo spoke.

“So—what brings you here?”

“Yes… though I wasn’t sure if I might be interrupting.”

“It’s fine. I just finished my scene, so I’ve got some time.”

Eunchan had come to see Kim Hyuin, but Park Yoonwoo showed even more interest. It wasn’t intentional, but since things had turned out this way, Eunchan decided it would be better to hear advice from both rather than refuse.

When Eunchan explained his interpretation of the script, both men listened attentively. Kim Hyuin admitted he’d felt something similar but hadn’t known how to bring it up. Hearing that, Eunchan felt reassured—his reading wasn’t off the mark.

When Eunchan mentioned he wanted to ask the director about adding an ad-lib that wasn’t in the script, their reactions were very positive. Park Yoonwoo, in particular, strongly encouraged it.

Perhaps because he appreciated Eunchan’s proactive attitude toward acting, Yoonwoo continued the conversation.

“Getting used to the camera is usually the hardest part, but you don’t seem to be struggling much. Anything else giving you trouble?”

Eunchan rubbed the back of his neck before answering.

“The camera’s difficult for me… but in a different way. We’re trained to always look toward the camera with the light on. So at first, I kept making eye contact with it and got a lot of NGs.”

“…Ah—right.” Yoonwoo laughed. “I remember that. The camera director even joked that you could sense cameras like a ghost.”

He laughed openly despite Eunchan being right there, but his tone was so light and admiring that it didn’t feel unpleasant at all.

Yoonwoo then gave him various tips when Eunchan asked whether his vocal projection was correct. Kim Hyuin chimed in too, demonstrating good posture for voice training—before the discussion suddenly turned into a full-on debate about acting.

Not long after, a staff member knocked on the door and called for Park Yoonwoo. He stood up after being told it was time for his next scene.

“Oh—right. Your facial expressions are already great, so no need to say much there. Just remember to tone it down compared to stage acting. In close-up shots, even the smallest muscle movement shows. We’ll be together for Scene 49, right? See you then!”

He added it all in a rush before dashing out.

“Yoonwoo-hyung isn’t usually like that,” Kim Hyuin said with a smile. “Guess he really liked you.”

“…Really?”

“He’s known for minding his own business—especially when he’s busy.”

Eunchan nodded a moment late. If he’d made a good impression, that was a relief. As he was thinking that, someone suddenly poked his cheek.

“Pop.”

A silly sound slipped past his lips.

“Is that a habit? Puffing your cheeks and chewing your lips?”

“Me?”

“Guess you didn’t know.”

Kim Hyuin chuckled, clearly amused. Eunchan tried to recall doing it often enough to be noticed, but nothing came to mind.

“Hyuin-hyung!”

A loud voice called out, drawing both their gazes. It was Kim Jaeyeon, one of the supporting male actors.

“Oh, Jaeyeon. You done filming?”

“Yeah, so I came to hang out—oh, you’re with Eunchan?”

Jaeyeon’s eyes flicked between them. Thanks to Kim Hyuin introducing them properly, Eunchan got a chance to talk with him too. Perhaps thanks to Kim Hyuin’s nature, Eunchan had already built connections with several cast members despite filming having just begun. Kim Hyuin’s attentiveness made it easy to grow closer to others.

Eunchan first spoke to the director about his idea for the ad-lib. Since the writer trusted the actors completely, the director readily gave permission.

And then, the filming of Eunchan’s scene began.

“All right—Scene 49, take one!”

The clapboard snapped crisply.

***********

Woo Hayun was practicing archery ahead of the monthly evaluation. Nothing was going right, and she bit her lip in growing anxiety. At this rate, she wouldn’t place high enough—and that would limit her ability to investigate the person who had murdered her brother. Restlessness wrapped tightly around her.

She fired until her quiver was empty, but not a single arrow hit properly. Frustrated with herself, tears welled up.

At the same time—

Turning the corner toward the archery grounds, Lee Muhun and Yeonun noticed someone already there.

Muhun let out a quiet sound of admiration upon recognizing her, and Yeonun leaned forward to look as well.

It was Woo Hayun.

Yeonun glanced once at Muhun, who was staring at her without realizing it.

“You need to do better,” Yeonun said. “If you want to keep staying with the Hwarang.”

“Having trouble?” Muhun added.

Startled by the sudden voices, Woo Hayun turned around.

Muhun walked toward her, stopping at a polite distance.

“Want help? I know a few tricks.”

Woo Hayun alternated her gaze between Muhun and Yeonun. Embarrassed at being caught in such a pathetic state, stubbornness rose within her. She turned away and straightened her back.

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I can do it myself.”

Her voice was firm and cold.

Silence settled between the three.

Yeonun approached her and bent down, picking up an arrow near her feet.

“You dropped one.”

It sounded almost like a reproach—as if what she truly needed had been right beside her all along, unnoticed.

Woo Hayun was flustered by this uncharacteristic action from the usually quiet Yeonun.

“I can pick it up myself.”

She reached for it, but Yeonun handed it to her first. She took it with her lips pressed tight, looking away—only for Yeonun to tighten his grip slightly and pull it back. Woo Hayun’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Now you’re finally looking at me.”

Yeonun smiled softly. After a brief silence, he spoke again, his voice low and gentle.

“You’re doing well.”

She looked as though she’d never expected to hear those words.

“Pride won’t make you better.”

“….”

“Muhun’s the best archer in our group.”

His tone shifted—firmer now. Then, turning toward Muhun, Yeonun spoke more casually, explaining how Muhun had earned the highest score in the recent archery exam.

Hearing this, Woo Hayun looked toward Muhun.

She’d thought he only liked to fool around. It was unexpected.

As she looked at Muhun’s profile, Yeonun quietly watched her from the side—until her eyes met Muhun’s and she quickly turned away.

Muhun didn’t approach, but he watched them, curious about what was being said. Yeonun, still gazing at Woo Hayun, spoke.

“Learn from Muhun. It’ll help you.”

“Huh?”

Only then did Woo Hayun realize the arrow was fully in her hand.

Yeonun stood and walked toward Muhun.

“Where are you going?”

“I remembered something I forgot.”

Yeonun raised a hand as if to pat Muhun’s shoulder, then hesitated. Lifting his gaze, he met Muhun’s eyes. Pressing his lips together once, he spoke again.

“I’ll head on first.”

Muhun watched Yeonun leave, puzzled. Knowing how meticulous Yeonun usually was, it felt strange—but he didn’t press.

“…Um.”

Woo Hayun’s voice snapped him back. Instead of speaking, she held out the bow.

The meaning was obvious.

Muhun smiled—pleased, but not overly so.