In This Life I Will Die as an Actress Not a Villainess Chapter 56

On the way back from the hospital after receiving emergency treatment.

Even inside the van, my road manager oppa’s nagging poured out.

“An actor’s appearance is an asset too, you know—don’t you? I’m going to tell Minyeong noona everything.”

“Stop nagging!”

“If the director hadn’t been there, what would’ve happened? You almost got a scar if we’d waited even a bit longer.”

Only after enduring his nagging for a while longer could I finally get out of the van.

Every time I walked, the wound stung and my face scrunched up—I held it in desperately.

When I returned to the filming site, the staff were busy preparing for the next shoot.

I approached the director who was monitoring.

“Did you get treatment?”

The director asked in a dry tone.

“Yes.”

“They said it won’t scar?”

“Yes… I want to monitor too.”

I’d gone to the hospital without even getting to see the scene we’d just filmed.

“No.”

“What?”

I looked at the director in shock.

“I’m not letting a stubborn actor who doesn’t take care of their own body do monitoring.”

The director’s expression was cold—too cold to be joking.

“Sena-ssi, aren’t you someone who needs to look far ahead?”

“…”

“At the rate you’re going, you’ll definitely climb high. But you won’t last long. If you’re someone truly desperate, pace yourself.”

Since Palace Flower filming started, this was the first piece of advice I’d heard from Director Kang.

Unexpectedly, he’d never once told me to do this or that, or said this is right or wrong.

He’d always directed without much reaction, but whenever I pushed forward in the direction I wanted, he’d supported that vision more solidly than anyone.

So… this was advice worth taking to heart.

Thinking about it, there was no reason to lose composure just because I was desperate.

A slight delay wouldn’t make my memories and feelings of Sunim disappear.

Why had I been rushing so much?

Having carried Sunim for so long, I’d acted too hastily and tripped over my own feet.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, Director. I was too… greedy.”

At my words, Director Kang’s expression softened slightly.

“I wasn’t scolding you.”

“I know. Thank you for the advice, Director. I mean it.”

“Then you can watch now.”

At those words, I smiled slightly and sat in front of the monitor.

As I stared at the screen with the most serious expression in the world, faint clicking sounds came from somewhere in succession.

Without time to pay attention, I chased Sunim’s running with my eyes until the very end.

The entire time Sunim ran, I found myself holding my breath too.

“Hah.”

The monitoring ended and I finally breathed in.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, I think it came out well.”

I smiled up at the director.

“When the actor’s more demanding than me, really.”

That’s when someone came running from far away.

“My lucky charm!”

“Huh? Writer!”

Writer Nam, whom I hadn’t seen in ages, approached with a shocked expression.

“Our lucky charm got hurt, they said. What happened?”

“Ah, it’s nothing serious. By the way, why are you at the site…”

The writer cut off my words and kept making a fuss.

“There’s good news, so I came to tell you. But here you are all hurt!”

Good news?

I looked between the director and the writer with a confused expression, and the writer raised her voice.

“Director, don’t tell me you haven’t told her yet?”

“Ah, things were so hectic.”

An ‘oops’ look appeared on the director’s expression.

What could it be?

The writer shot him a look before turning back to me.

“Our Palace Flower got a publishing offer!”

“A script book?!”

“No, a novel version!”

It was truly unexpected news.

Not a script book but a novel version publication.

“Writer, congratulations!”

At that, the writer smiled and grasped my hands tightly.

“It’s all thanks to you, Sena-ssi. So there’s something—I’ve been going around asking the lead actors for a favor.”

“A favor?”

“Yeah. I need pieces for the book’s introduction. Filming reflections, or the work’s charm from an actor’s perspective. Things that’ll satisfy the fans.”

Ah? This is new.

With ratings breaking through 19%, things were growing far beyond the scale I’d imagined.

“I was planning to bring you to the publishing house meeting since I heard you don’t have an afternoon schedule…”

The writer looked down at my leg with a regretful expression.

“Ah, I can go!”

“No. I’ll reschedule. Springing this on you same-day was already a bit rude, Sena-ssi.”

At the writer’s words, I waved my hands and tried to stand, but my manager oppa appeared from somewhere and firmly pushed me back down.

* * *

At that moment, True Actors office.

CEO Chu Donggyu let out a hollow laugh as scenes from Palace Flower episode 12 flowed on the TV mounted on the wall.

“So they’re breaking through 20% after all.”

Chu Donggyu picked up the remote with slight irritation and turned off the TV.

On the laptop screen on the table, articles about Kwon Minyeong and Han Sena were displayed.

‘Do you know Han Sena from Seowon Arts?’

That was a question he’d asked Seon Yuseok before.

She was a rookie whose debut acting had been decent enough to make him stamp her face in his memory.

But an incredible answer flowed from Seon Yuseok’s mouth.

‘Sena noona? She even came to our company and watched my acting before.’

There’d even been footage left behind in the practice room recording booth at the time, clear as day.

The scene of then-newcomer Han Sena, who’d only filmed her debut work, drastically reworking Seon Yuseok’s terrible acting.

Acting ability that wouldn’t improve no matter how much money they poured into training.

She was far more capable than he’d imagined.

And there was one more person like this.

‘Kwon Minyeong.’

Chu Donggyu let out a deep sigh.

It had been Kwon Minyeong who’d particularly favored Seon Yuseok.

He felt certain Kwon Minyeong had seen that practice footage one step ahead of him.

“Should’ve held onto Kwon Minyeong instead of clinging to Park Hyukmin.”

Trying to clean up that drunk driving bastard’s mess while letting Kwon Minyeong go had ended up losing both rabbits.

If he’d known Han Sena had connections earlier, he wouldn’t have let Kwon Minyeong leave.

Chu Donggyu narrowed his eyes as he looked at photos from articles about the two of them.

‘Kwon Minyeong isn’t the type to give up on a company, and it’s too late to bring her back. Is there any way to bring in Han Sena at least?’

Chu Donggyu’s leg bounced as his mind raced.

“Ah seriously, what an idiot I’ve been.”

Chu Donggyu tapped his forehead with a ballpoint pen as if it ached.

* * *

Glozer Publishing office.

“Wow, the lead is here! The ratings went crazy, didn’t they? Congratulations.”

The person in charge—a novelist—stood up and cheerfully offered a handshake.

This past weekend, Palace Flower had climbed at a terrifying rate before finally hitting 25.2%.

“Thank you.”

After shaking hands with the novelist, I sat down across from them at a table by the window where spring sunlight streamed in.

The moment I sat, questions poured out.

“When did Sunim first fall in love with the king?”

“Is Sunim a strong woman ahead of her time?”

“What emotion do you feel when you think of Sunim?”

The writer’s words about needing me seemed like they weren’t empty flattery.

Each time I answered carefully, the person in charge typed rapidly on their keyboard at a frightening speed.

Watching them made me break into a sweat.

In the middle of explaining scenes from the drama, Writer Nam brought up the short film story.

“To add persuasiveness to this part, our lead actor’s short film setting was incorporated.”

At that, the novelist nodded and paused their hands briefly.

“Ah, the one you said you’d release if ratings passed 20%? When does that come out? Will it be in special content? I’m so excited.”

This person tossing out question marks non-stop…

Looking at their sparkling eyes, I could tell why this person handled the publication.

Somehow they gave off serious Palace Flower stan vibes.

Writer Nam spoke up again.

“Anyway, so here Sangseon ends up sacrificing himself…”

That’s when something struck me like lightning.

After asking for their understanding, I threw out my opinion.

“Um, in the novel, what if we let Sangseon survive? I’d love to see a version where the team of King, Sunim, and Sangseon reach a happy ending together.”

A brief silence filled the office.

This was purely my own greed.

Wanting to leave behind traces of Sangseon.

The writer looked at me and smiled brightly.

“Honey, you really wanted to save Sangseon, didn’t you?”

At those words, I nodded.

“Yes. And I think the strategy of showing a different ending in the novel would have quite a bit of demand from viewers.”

At that, the novelist in charge also nodded in agreement.

“The idea itself is good, so shall we discuss it?”

Soon the two writers started throwing out ideas.

“Then when Sangseon’s cornered, let’s have the king shoot an arrow.”

“And have the scholars enter at the right timing…”

Within minutes, the writers’ world fully unfolded.

Watching the two of them complete the story piece by piece stirred mixed feelings in me.

A different texture of satisfaction and wistfulness from filming the drama.

Now this ending too had left my hands.

Sangseon had survived in another story, and somewhere he would continue living a life unknown to me.

While I was alone, immersed in sentiment, the two writers’ capitalist sensibilities charged in.

“When this book comes out, we need goods too, right?”

“Of course. You know—limited first edition goods.”

“As expected, you get it. Something like bookmarks with photos of the leads for the first edition would be nice.”

“Handwritten autographs too!”

Within two hours of meeting, the two of them showed perfect harmony.

* * *

Time passed, and finally—the last day of filming.

With the final scene ahead, all the staff were busy wearing bittersweet expressions.

Meanwhile, Lee Seokhyun, having heard about the signed book news, complained.

“Ugh, 500 copies? My arm’s going to fall off. Can’t film the next project without my right arm.”

“Oh my, sounds like your signature’s quite fancy.”

At my words, Lee Seokhyun grinned.

“Of course—would a superstar’s signature be ordinary?”

At that, I shook my head and picked up the script.

I lightly ran my hand over the script.

‘Already the last filming.’

While I read the script briefly, the staff finished preparing for the shoot.

I set down the script and slowly stood before the camera.

The lakeside where I’d first met the king wearing a skirt.

Under the willow tree, I stood side by side with my king, gazing at that lake.

“To remain a vassal. Won’t you regret giving up a woman’s life?”

Lee Seokhyun’s voice asking me was as calm as the lake.

I looked at his face and met his eyes.

“Do you feel regret?”

At that, Lee Seokhyun smiled.

“When I’m the only man in all eight provinces of Joseon with a sweetheart like you, would I feel regret?”

At those words, we both smiled and held eye contact for a long time.

Maybe because it was the last scene.

Even through eye contact without a single word, I felt like our hearts were connecting.

An eye contact like a promise that we’d be together forever from now on.

“Cut. Okay.”

An okay fell on the last scene.

At that, Lee Seokhyun smiled brightly and lightly patted my shoulder.

It was a trivial gesture, but it felt like a final farewell.

As if to say it was time for us to leave Sunim and the king behind in the story.

Looking at him like that, I too smiled widely.