The new promotional strategies were strikingly innovative.
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Whether it was the sudden surge in the actor’s name recognition or something else entirely, one thing was clear:
In the end, what remains in people’s memories is the acting.
The impact left by the actor on screen is what stays imprinted in the audience’s mind.
What truly matters is how they will be remembered.
What will linger in people’s memories?
"‘And they lived happily ever after.’ A classic line, no doubt. But there’s a reason classics endure."
This was what Jin Kyuseong said while preparing for the final shoot of The Moonlight That Parts the Clouds.
From the earliest days of storytelling to the present, there are elements that have always captivated audiences.
If something is loved, it is because it has an undeniable reason to be loved.
A happy ending.
Among countless possible conclusions, it is often called the closest thing to the right answer.
The conclusion that had previously existed only as words in the original novel was now to be reborn as a performance.
Happiness...
Kim Ji-ah from The Neighbor Next Door never even knew what that concept was.
Han Yu-hwa from You Who Came from the Stars held onto it momentarily but ultimately had to let it go.
For Ha-eun, acting as someone fully and completely happy was a first.
It was unfamiliar in so many ways.
Yet, precisely because it was unfamiliar—
"Lady Kim. Or perhaps I should now call you Bin-gung."
A warm gaze directed at her.
The warmth felt right beside her.
Not a single thing was familiar.
"Bin-gung, who has long wished to stay by my side—has that wish been fulfilled now?"
"...Yes."
Because happiness was foreign to Yeong-wol, her emotions were vividly expressed.
Her cautious yet awestruck demeanor, as if everything around her was new, gave the scene a refreshing atmosphere.
Slowly, two shadows began walking side by side.
Their uninterrupted exchange of words formed a calm yet sweet undertone.
"From tomorrow, Bin-gung should accompany me when I visit the king. What do you think?"
"I will follow Your Highness’s wishes. However... I fear His Majesty may take offense at my presence."
"You need not worry. I have promised to protect you, and I will not break that promise."
Their steps eventually led to a small garden.
Among the many vibrant and beautiful flowers, Yeong-wol walked carefully, her face adorned with a quiet smile.
"If I’d known how much you liked flowers, I would have brought you here much sooner."
"I am happy to see them with Your Highness. How could flowers not be lovely when seen with one’s husband?"
Her voice remained as composed as ever, but the pure joy beneath it could not be hidden.
Yeong-wol’s steps began to slow, and then, not long after, they came to a complete stop.
"...Your Highness. May I ask you something?"
Her gaze remained on the flowerbed before her rather than turning toward Lee Hyun.
Her voice carried a hint of tension, for reasons unclear.
Lee Hyun, momentarily puzzled, asked what was on her mind.
The question she posed shortly after was—
"When did you start seeing me as a woman?"
"I believe I’ve already answered that question."
"Then... why did you come to hold me in your heart?"
It was the final remnants of Yeong-wol’s lingering insecurity.
In her mind, the image Lee Hyun had of her was far from anything resembling feminine charm.
Though she understood intellectually that he loved her, a part of her remained uneasy, longing for reassurance.
A brief silence followed.
And then—
Step.
The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps.
His familiar calm voice drew closer.
"You were the first to become mine."
Step.
"And the one who stayed mine until the very end."
Step.
"I owe you my life many times over. How could I not love you?"
When Lee Hyun finally reached her, his hands gently yet firmly pulled her into his embrace.
From where her cheek rested against his chest, Yeong-wol could hear his strong heartbeat.
The longer she stayed in his arms, the faster the rhythm seemed to grow.
"...Does that answer your question?"
As Yeong-wol slowly lifted her face, it was unmistakably flushed.
Her carefully maintained composure had completely crumbled, revealing her embarrassment.
Her unsure expression, as though lost for words, betrayed her inner turmoil.
The contrasting emotions on their faces merged into a single frame on the screen.
Seconds later, the scene transitioned to a wide shot of the grand palace.
Lee Hyun appeared, not in the Crown Prince’s blue robe but in the red robe of a king.
Scenes from the passage of time flowed rapidly—until the sky turned a brilliant red with the setting sun.
The momentary pause in the rush of time marked the final scenes.
On the screen, Lee Hyun and Yeong-wol now wore simple, common clothing, no longer dressed as the Crown Prince and his consort.
The setting had shifted to a vast flower field near the capital.
Moments later, a soft click.
The serene sound of something akin to beads touching filled the air.
The final image lingered on their intertwined hands, two matching bracelets meeting in the middle.
With that, the preview for the last episode of The Moonlight That Parts the Clouds concluded.
And—
At the KBC Drama Department, where they had been holding their breath while watching,
“...30.2 percent.”
“What... what?!”
“It’s over 30 percent! Our Moonlight ratings have broken 30 percent!!”
The three-year slump in KBC’s Drama Department officially ended that day.
An undeniable, massive success.
But traditionally, the final episode tends to score the highest ratings of a drama.
That meant the 30.2 percent rating of today’s episode would likely be surpassed by tomorrow’s finale.
“...Let’s save the champagne for tomorrow.”
Even Jin Kyuseong, who was always stoic, allowed himself a contented smile.
He was certain: The Moonlight That Parts the Clouds had not only succeeded but had become a drama that would remain cherished until its very last moment.
***
“Ha-eun, you’re really not involved with Yoo Sung-jae, right?”
Glaring intensifies.
“Ah, I know, I know. Even Dad knows you’re not. But... it’s a little unsettling. Yesterday, your eyes—"
Clink.
Ha-eun deliberately set her spoon down on the table with a loud clatter and stood up.
Without a word, she proceeded to clear the table as she usually did. But for some reason, as her father, Seong-yoon, continued his meal, Ha-eun walked over to sit next to Na-yeon.
“Mom.”
“Yes?”
“Dad hid beer behind the kimchi container.”
Without a moment’s hesitation or an ounce of guilt, Ha-eun exposed Seong-yoon’s secret to Na-yeon.
Although she whispered as if sharing a secret, her voice was loud enough for the whole room to hear.
Seong-yoon, looking back and forth between Na-yeon and Ha-eun, began to pale visibly.
“D-daughter, that wasn’t part of the deal—”
“You broke the deal first, Dad.”
What followed was Na-yeon cracking her knuckles as she marched toward the kimchi fridge, while Seong-yoon slowly backed away, step by step, toward the front door.
“I’m heading to musical practice. I’ll eat dinner with my friends, so don’t worry about me!”
Ding!
In no time, Ha-eun had finished getting ready and bolted out the door. The high-pitched screams seeping through the front door were something she pretended not to hear.
When she arrived at the auditorium right on time—
Glance.
Glance, glance.
‘...Huh?’
Something felt off. Her classmates, who had been treating her normally just yesterday, now had a strange air about them.
Just in case, Ha-eun checked her appearance several times but couldn’t find anything unusual.
Finally, the only classmate making eye contact with her, Gong Hye-yeon, broke the silence.
“Ha-eun, um... our costumes are here. Let’s go change.”
Following Hye-yeon, Ha-eun changed into the empress’s costume for Aria.
The white gown, adorned with delicate jade beads, was even more impressive than she had imagined.
However, when she returned to the auditorium after putting on the full ensemble, including the empress’s cloak, the atmosphere among her classmates grew even stranger.
They seemed like they wanted to say something but kept holding back, stealing nervous glances at her instead.
Finally, unable to take it anymore, Ha-eun made a move to approach them—and they froze like statues.
Watching the scene unfold, Hye-yeon, standing beside her, spoke up at last.
But the words that came next—
“First five people to speak up get a chance! Rehearsals start in five minutes, so make it quick!”
—were far from what Ha-eun expected.
“Ha-eun, is it true you made Yoo Sung-jae fall over?”
“I heard he almost fainted on set. How intense was that kiss to make that happen?”
“Hey, can you tie a cherry stem with your tongue too?”
In less than five seconds, a tsunami of questions overwhelmed her, leaving her brain frozen.
Their faces were practically glowing with excitement.
Eighteen years old.
The age where love feels like everything.
Ha-eun had underestimated just how deeply her friends were invested in The Moonlight That Parts the Clouds, a romance drama.
The impact of the kiss scene in episode 15, so much more passionate than the first, had exceeded everyone’s expectations—including hers.