Aura of a Genius Actor

༺ The Emperor’s Greed ༻

The tea conversation scene unfolded in eight parts.

[Introduction – Dialogue scene – Flashback – Dialogue scene – Flashback – Dialogue scene, etc…]

<The Late Goryeo Dynasty & the Early Joseon Dynasty> was structured around dialogue scenes as its core and interspersed with flashbacks.

The scene of them leisurely having tea and conversation in the garden would juxtapose the elite scholars’ intense debates and the close-quarters combat of their subordinates outside. This paradox would heighten the tension. 

“Everyone, be ready. We’re going to start shooting in 5 minutes!”

On the first day of shooting, Director Son instructed them to film the entire tea conversation scene in one continuous take. 

These shots would be shot in detail over the course of a month. Each cut differed in size and composition, but starting with a full shot was significant. This initial take would serve as a guide for the rest of the filming, acting as a ‘map’ to ensure emotional continuity between the cuts. 

The camera captured the set in a wide shot.

Yoomyeong’s robes shone a blue so deep that it was almost green. It contrasted with Hansung’s robe, which was a vivid navy tinged with purple. 

The room’s props, with their layers of deep red paint and fabric, created an atmosphere that seemed to put the room ablaze. The only relief for the eyes was the greenery of the garden in the background.

In the pavilion facing the garden with a view of a gentle stream outside, the conversation between a former master and his disciple who were meeting privately for the first time in ten years was about to begin.

“Yoomyeong.”

“Yes, hyung.”

“Thank you.”

Yoomyeong became puzzled at Hansung’s unexpected gratitude, who then slowly began to express his sincere feelings.

“I’ve never been this uncertain about how a performance will turn out, right up until the moment we start. It’s not just the performance of my fellow actors, but… even my own.”

“It’s terrifying, but also exhilarating. Lately, I’ve felt alive in every single moment that passed by.” 

“Let’s go on this journey together. Let’s dive in and really enjoy it.” 

Hansung seemed slightly embarrassed by his own words, and he scratched his cheek before extending his hand. Yoomyeong firmly grasped it and shook it vigorously.

There were indeed days when emotions ran high, and when one could be honest without the need for alcohol. 

Under the harsh sunlight and stage lights with dozens of staff around, Hansung’s unusually serious words made Yoomyeong’s heart race.

Let’s oil the knife on our mouths. 

Their conversation involved gently caressing the opponent before striking decisively. It was about handling this effortlessly, yet bearing the pain with an unaffected face.

Today was the day Lee Bang-won would kill Jeong Mong-ju.

*

“Standby—”

“Action!”

“It’s been a long time, Master.”

“Indeed. It’s been a while since I’ve been to this annex.”

Jeong Mong-ju seemed unusually cheerful that day. He didn’t draw the usual line at being called ‘Master,’ just like before. 

Lee Bang-won knew the reason, and yet he wondered why his heart felt so light. 

That genuine, brief emotion filled with longing caught Director Son’s attention.

‘How does he even capture these detailed emotions I never thought of?’

“How have you been?”

Pour—

As he inquired about his well-being, Lee Bang-won gracefully brewed tea with hot water from the kettle, pouring it into two cups. 

Jeong Mong-ju tasted the tea, savoring the subtle fragrance that filled his nostrils before swallowing.

“Thanks to your efforts, I’ve been struggling.”

Jeong Mong-ju made a smooth, bold move. Lee Bang-won tensed. 

He probably intended to shake him up and distract him from what was going on outside.

“You probably thought everything was set. Did my act of bringing father here derail your plans?”

Jeong Mong-ju was a politician. Thus, he usually wasn’t one to launch such direct attacks under normal circumstances. But now that things had turned out this way, it might actually be a chance for an honest conversation.

“I can’t deny it. I expected General Song-Heon to hesitate more, but I underestimated you as a variable. I admire your judgment.”

“Most of that judgment was nurtured by you, Master.”

“Was it now…?”

Jeong Mong-ju smiled bitterly. 

Indeed, he had nurtured his own adversary. He should have stopped when he first felt intimidated by those bright, ambitious eyes. But intoxicated by the zeal with which his student absorbed every lesson…

“That’s why I ‘covet’ you, Master.”

Lee Bang-won launched a counterattack without hiding his burning greed. 

For a young man of only 26 and of a much lower rank to covet Jeong Mong-ju, who was already at the peak of his political career, could only mean one thing. 

The seat of Emperor. 

He might be helping his father, but he was already coveting the throne.

Jeong Mong-ju gazed intently at his grown student and spoke softly. 

“Yudeok, your ambition will either kill you or those around you.”

The shooting set was eerily quiet.

Watching their verbal duel was breathtaking, as if their words were actual swords. Still, none of them had been wounded.

The scene following this was supposed to be a flashback to 1367, with the sound of a baby’s cry. 

The scene transitioned to Jeong Mong-ju as he gave his lecture at Sungkyunkwan, rising to fame as a scholar. It was also the year Lee Bang-won was born.

However, today’s shooting skipped to the next tea conversation scene.

Scene 16.

Instead of getting angry at Jeong Mong-ju’s prophetic words, Lee Bang-won laughed and brought up the past.

“Ambition, haha. That’s funny coming from someone who significantly contributed to it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you know? The mischievous child who grew up fascinated with war games found his calling in scholarship and politics because he was inspired by his master’s brilliant diplomacy and lofty spirit.” 

“Was that the case?”

After that, a brief silence enveloped them. Then, Lee Bang-won, who was sipping his tea, frowned slightly and asked as if something was amiss.

“Didn’t you hear something just now?”

Jeong Mong-ju replied calmly.

“Hear what? I didn’t hear anything.”

“It seems noisy outside… I’ll go and check.”

“It’s very quiet outside. Anyway, let’s continue our discussion. What have you heard about me?”

Lee Bang-won pretended to give in to Jeong Mong-ju’s insistence.

“Just stories of a national hero.”

At the end of this sentence, the scene from the Ming Dynasty would be inserted. It would show Jeong Mong-ju, who drifted for 13 days, receiving recognition and courtesy from Zhu Yuanzhang. 

These scenes of dialogue and the young Jeong Mong-ju’s achievements intersect, leading up to their first meeting, where Jeong Mong-ju began tutoring Lee Bang-won at Lee Seong-Gye’s request.

“The first time I met you was in this room, Master. Do you remember?”

“How could I forget?”

“Your teachings are still in my mind. Be unwavering in your objectives, steadfast in your gaze, and resolute in your actions. Embracing even imperfect means for the sake of a goal is the reality of politics. And that’s exactly what you did.” 

“I regret ever telling you that…”

Jeong Mong-ju smiled bitterly, lamenting his naïve oversight of what he had nurtured.

Lee Bang-won subtly probed his thoughts.

“If a smart person wants to do what they desire, then shouldn’t they gravitate toward where the power is?”

“That’s indeed a fair point.”

“But why are you choosing to sink with the failing Goryeo?”

It was a dangerous statement. Although they both indirectly knew each other’s intentions, such direct exchange was too blatant. 

Normally, Jeong Mong-ju might have pretended not to hear it and left. But what about today?

Lee Bang-won scrutinized his face with a relaxed smile. Jeong Mong-ju’s expression hardened slightly, but he did not leave. Instead, he made an unexpected request.

“Could you close the door?”

Click— 

The door shut firmly, hiding the verdant garden from view. In an entirely red backdrop, the aged, bearded scholar-politician presented his opinion, which might be either derived from scholarly logic or political reasoning.

This was the scene Yoomyeong had acted out during his first meeting with Director Son. It was where Lee Bang-won merely listened and where Jeong Mong-ju’s political views boldly unfolded.

“Yudeok, what is needed to create a nation for the people is a system. A system that does not rely on the qualities of the monarch, who may or may not be capable, but on good subjects to produce worthy results.” 

Those were familiar lines.

Director Son’s expression was filled with pride as he watched the scene. 

The lines were the same, and yet so different. There was the veteran actor, who slightly raised his voice and eloquently explained his logic as if lecturing the young boy 14 years ago.

“But why do we need a revolution then? The king and the dynasty are not the core of that system, are they?” 

“Isn’t it faster to cut out what has already decayed?” 

And there was also the young star, who seemed to engulf his opponent with his overwhelming presence all while staying silent.

“Will there be no problems if you cut it out? The first king to start a new nation is always the most capable. That’s why it’s difficult to establish a system that centers on officials. But what guarantee do we have that the next king, and the next, and the next, will be as competent?”

“I see.”

“Isn’t it more appropriate to shift to a minister-centered system when the king’s power is at its weakest?”

The scene was unfolding exactly as Director Son had envisioned in his dreams.

The era of a loyal subject devoted to the people of the land and not the court of Goryeo was intersecting with the unabashed ambition of a future king.

“But Master, there are too many stubborn fools set in their ways. When will we have time to correct every one of them? Wouldn’t it be better to pour new wine into new wineskins?”

Lee Bang-won’s disrespectfully bold remark made Jeong Mong-ju’s voice grow a little louder.

“Don’t use that excuse to justify your desire to devour this country!” 

Was that really out of anger?

As the other raised his tone, Lee Bang-won lowered his voice and whispered.

“I’ve never seen you raise your voice like this before.”

“That’s because you’re spouting nonsense right now!”

His smile grew.

“Really? Is that why…?”

“What are you talking about? Speak clearly!”

“You followed me here, been drawn into my provocations, asked for the door to be closed, and then launched into a passionate argument. To think someone as rational as ice would show anger…” 

“…”

“With all this bait hanging, I wonder how the ‘operation’ outside is progressing.”

‘We’ve been caught…’

Jeong Mong-ju’s complexion turned ashen.

*

The beginning was from Byun Jung-ryang’s tip-off.

Byun Jung-ryang was a son-in-law of Lee Seong-Gye’s brother and a student of Jeong Mong-ju. 

‘We must eliminate Jeong Mong-ju.’

Unable to ignore the Lee family’s sentiments, Byun Jung-ryang warned Jeong Mong-ju to be careful. However, Jeong Mong-ju planned to assassinate Lee Seong-Gye upon hearing this instead.

The political situation was already at a tipping point.

His last move was to ‘cut off Lee Seong-Gye’s limbs.’ 

It seemed to succeed with Lee Seong-Gye’s injury, but Lee Bang-won convinced his father to return to Kaesong before the plan concluded, putting Jeong Mong-ju in danger of a counterattack.

However, there was one last resort.

That was taking advantage of Lee Seong-Gye’s unhealed injury to eliminate him. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was the only way out of this situation.

However, the variable was, again, Lee Bang-won.

Given his perceptiveness and quick thinking, he would notice any oddity sooner than anyone. As evident from his decisions during the Wihwado retreat and Lee Seong-Gye’s injury, controlling the variable named Lee Bang-won was crucial.

So, Jeong Mong-ju ‘scouted’ whether Lee Seong-Gye was ‘genuinely injured’ and volunteered as ‘bait’ to ‘tie down Lee Bang-won’ while the assassins were deployed.

But little did he know that he had been found out from the start.

*

Thud— 

A loud noise came from outside the closed door, and Lee Bang-won swung it open.

And there, in front of the door… 

Were the assassins Jeong Mong-ju had sent, kneeling and covered in blood.

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