In This Life I Will Die as an Actress Not a Villainess Chapter 26

A few days after that.

“Again, again!”

Teacher Yoon Youngjae stood with both hands on his hips, unleashing a fiery rebuke.

Following the experience center, this place was…

The rehearsal room of the theater company Teacher Yoon Youngjae had been leading for twenty years.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try again.”

My body instinctively shrank.

I straightened up before the teacher again.

“Where’d that clever way of persuading me go, you brat.”

The teacher threw down the gauntlet.

* * *

At a humble agency dinner.

The small group consisting of two actors and a few staff members gathered at a pork belly restaurant.

Sizzle—the sound of pork belly cooking wrapped around the table.

In reality, it was only nominally a company dinner—I’d pestered unnie into setting up this meeting so I could see the teacher.

This was after several texts and calls had already failed.

I poured alcohol for the teacher with exaggerated courtesy.

The teacher quietly accepted the drink, then raised the corners of his mouth.

“Sena-ssi, you’re quite transparent.”

“Pardon?”

At my response, the teacher simply smiled and downed his drink without another word.

Damn, he caught on.

As expected, this is what life experience gets you.

I exchanged glances with Minyeong unnie.

Then it’s the direct approach.

I picked up my chopsticks and started putting meat in my mouth.

Once we’d eaten meat and drunk alcohol for a while, the atmosphere ripened…

I cautiously gauged the mood before opening my mouth.

“Teacher.”

The teacher nodded as if he’d been expecting this.

“I know it’s rude to keep asking persistently. But I really need you, Teacher.”

“Sena-ssi, I understand the title, but I’m not a teacher. Just an ordinary actor.”

Those words made me pause.

It was such a thorough rejection.

Not simple humility, but words that felt like they came from truly believing himself still a lacking actor.

I fell into thought for a moment.

Then I answered.

“Even if you feel you’re just an ordinary actor… you’re already far ahead of juniors like me. You are, Teacher.”

I smiled at the teacher.

The teacher raised his eyebrows slightly at my words.

I continued calmly.

“I… need seniors, I need teachers, I need help from people ahead of me. I wish the teacher, who always looks forward, would sometimes look back too. At the juniors behind you.”

At my words, the teacher let out a faint sigh.

“Please help me, Teacher.”

At my words, the teacher scratched his head as if troubled.

“Why me specifically, Sena-ssi?”

“Your age, experience, career, the vocal training forged through theater acting—all of it seems perfect for sageuk acting practice.”

“Well.”

Minyeong unnie watched the teacher’s face with bated breath.

I too felt sweat forming on my clasped hands resting on my knees.

“It’ll be very difficult—are you sure you’re okay with that?”

Got him.

For a moment, I almost pulled the teacher into a hug out of sheer joy.

“Of course! I’ll work really hard!”

At my loud voice, people in the restaurant turned to look this way.

Smiling, I high-fived Minyeong unnie.

* * *

And so, this happened.

“Your delivery is terrible!”

Teacher Yoon Youngjae had finally drawn his sword, unable to resist his young junior’s coaxing.

However, it turned out to be an even more hellish barrage than expected.

“My delivery…?”

Combining my previous life’s forty years with this life—in my entire sixty-one years, this was the first time I’d heard such a scolding.

Today too, the actors sitting around the rehearsal room held their breath.

They were senior actors who’d come at Teacher Yoon Youngjae’s instruction to observe a rookie’s practice.

A kind of pressure akin to enduring watchful eyes.

Teacher Yoon Youngjae lowered his voice to ask again.

“Are you just planning to parrot other people’s lines?”

So what exactly does he mean by delivery?

I couldn’t understand.

This was an unexpected trial.

Why on earth am I, from day one, suddenly stuck in delivery hell?

This was something I’d only done back when I first learned acting at an academy.

“You brat. You’re just mimicking right now.”

Mimicking…

“Right now, your head is full of random drama and movie scenes.”

Those words hit the mark, making me draw in a sharp breath.

The teacher rolled up the script and tapped his chin with it.

“There’s no such thing as separate sageuk speech.”

For a moment, I felt as if I’d been struck on the head.

“It’s not about lowering your voice, speaking calmly, using archaic-sounding speech. It’s about speaking our beautiful Korean language with very strict pronunciation. That’s the core and foundation.”

Having started my acting career in the 2010s and only done contemporary dramas, this was a blind spot I’d missed.

The image of myself sitting in front of the TV all night watching sageuks unfolded in my mind.

I suddenly felt embarrassed.

That had been my own effort, but the method had been wrong…

How foolish.

I’d barely obtained this precious training opportunity…

Watching me hang my head, one of the senior actors broke the silence with a laugh.

“Teacher. You’re going to crush the kid.”

I reflexively turned my head to look at the voice’s owner.

It was Jang Heeyeong sunbaenim, who’d established himself as a respected actor moving between theater and dramas for over ten years.

Looking at my face, sunbaenim gave a good-natured smile.

White hairs were sprinkled throughout sunbaenim’s short hair and beard.

Even that sight… intimidated me.

“The fundamentals aren’t there at all. The most important thing is fundamentals, fundamentals. In acting and in life. You need to become an actor and a person who executes the basics.”

The teacher continued speaking without regard.

“Teacher—executing those basics is the hardest thing in the world.”

Sunbaenim stepped in to block the teacher’s rebuke.

“You keep interrupting? Then you come out and exchange lines with her.”

At those words, Jang Heeyeong sunbaenim made an ‘geez’ sound as he stood up.

Then he picked up the script from the table, approached with a playful smile.

Soon after reading through the script, he lowered the corners of his mouth.

With an expression that had transformed 180 degrees—suddenly much calmer—sunbaenim stared into my eyes.

Meeting sunbaenim’s eyes somehow made my heart settle peacefully.

In sunbaenim’s expression was… how to put it, a composure and understanding.

An understanding of the acting he would perform, and composure…

I stared blankly at sunbaenim when he opened his mouth.

“Sena-ssi. Let’s focus.”

“Yes, yes! Understood.”

I took deep breaths while repeating to myself mentally.

‘Not sageuk-like speech, but Korean language. Don’t mimic…’

* * *

The actors sitting against the rehearsal room wall held their breath, watching Jang Heeyeong and Han Sena.

Yoon Youngjae also leaned against one wall, observing Han Sena with sharp eyes.

The short scene the two were exchanging lines from was a situation where the king, having read the female lead’s second answer sheet submitted during the exam, took interest.

An early scene in the drama.

Jang Heeyeong, playing the king’s role, spoke first.

“Reduce the privileges of the censorate? Then wouldn’t the court fall into disorder?”

Each syllable rang out clearly and crisply in a calm, resonant voice, filling the rehearsal room.

Even with just two lines, they carried weight.

Now Han Sena, kneeling before him, opened her mouth.

Her face still showed traces of nervous tension.

“To whom are the current censors offering remonstrance, Your Majesty?”

“Do you wish to discuss my authority? How presumptuous.”

The king lowered his voice threateningly.

“I wish to discuss their recklessness, Your Majesty.”

Han Sena delivered her line while calmly bowing her head and setting aside the script she’d been holding.

“Remonstrance means to speak with cover. Those who once made a habit of reporting petty faults to cloud Your Majesty’s vision now clamor about every single action of yours violating the Five Moral Disciplines.”

These were words criticizing the faction that nitpicked at everything since the king refused to follow the Queen Dowager’s ambitious designs.

Han Sena performed without being overwhelmed by the king’s presence, yet without abandoning propriety, showing the bearing of an intellectual.

Watching this, several seniors raised the corners of their mouths slightly.

‘Now she’s starting.’

“They invoke the Five Moral Disciplines in their memorials—but what of the Three Fundamental Bonds? Is obstructing Your Majesty’s governance truly the attitude of serving one’s sovereign? They fear nothing, so they turn their backs on the Three Fundamental Bonds.”

Han Sena’s voice gradually gained strength.

That voice extended heavily upward from her core.

Jang Heeyeong stroked his carelessly grown beard.

“To truly bring forth clear voices, you must reduce their authority.”

At Han Sena’s plea, a comfortable strength entered that hadn’t been there before.

Unnecessary tension had dissipated, replaced by necessary power.

It was acting where unneeded force fell away and needed force took its place.

Han Sena now sat not with a rigid face, but with a resolute one.

Meanwhile, watching this, Yoon Youngjae stroked his chin.

‘The more I watch, the more intriguing she is.’

He fell deep into thought.

‘Not only ahead of her peers, but she has clear shortcomings that can be corrected… Above all.’

Yoon Youngjae smiled subtly.

‘Such spirit. It’s been so long since I’ve seen such a promising talent.’

* * *

I slowly raised my head.

Applause leaked from a corner.

The senior actors were sending applause.

Was I allowed to receive applause…?

With trembling eyes, I looked at Teacher Yoon Youngjae.

The teacher, who’d been standing still, opened his mouth.

“It’s a mess.”

Pffft—

My energy completely deflated.

I exhaled and smiled while running my hand through my hair.

Then the teacher continued.

“Still, it’s more watchable than before. Don’t rest—keep practicing, and I’ll see you again this evening.”

With those brief words, the teacher left.

Uh…

My head went blank again.

“You did well, Sena-ssi.”

“If the teacher said that much, it’s praise.”

“Good fighting spirit, hm? Hm? Nice rookie spirit—”

The senior actors sitting in the rehearsal room tossed out a word each as they headed for the door the teacher had exited through.

“Thank you.”

With a dazed expression, I bowed my head to each one, expressing my gratitude.

Once only the two of us remained in the rehearsal room, Jang Heeyeong sunbaenim picked up the script and handed it to me.

“Sena-ssi, take it easy.”

“Pardon?”

“Don’t rush. Don’t only look at what you lack and need to fill—think about what Sena-ssi does well too.”

Even though it was a brief comment, I could feel the sincerity in sunbaenim’s advice.

“Sena-ssi, you’re not like a rookie. You have spirit. Delivery will improve with practice. But spirit is different. It’s not something practice handles like delivery. Don’t go to the audition throwing away even the parts you’re already good at like today.”

“…Yes, thank you.”

Leaving those words behind, sunbaenim also left the rehearsal room, leaving me dazed.

I stood staring at that door for a long while when…

Beep beep beep—

The sound of the door lock opening came from outside.