Honestly, Seoyeon had always thought of herself as somewhat foolish.
A past that no longer held much relevance, and her previous life.
Yet, she remained entangled in them. If she couldn’t focus on the present because of those things, wasn’t that a problem?
But her heart didn’t follow her mind.
Seoyeon had never felt true happiness in her past life. That’s what she believed.
So, she thought there wouldn’t be any lingering attachments. But for some reason, something felt different—an indescribable emptiness lingered.
Perhaps that’s why Jiyeon said what she did back in middle school.
Because Seoyeon treasured her current life, her life as Juseoyeon, so deeply, she believed she shouldn’t remain attached to the past.
Even if it was something she had once loved or a dream she had wanted to achieve, if she became too fixated on it, she thought she’d never be able to truly become Juseoyeon.
That’s the conclusion she came to in middle school, at the age of fifteen, right at the end of her adolescence.
But the Gray Crow—Yeo-hee—told her something different.
She told her that even those lingering attachments were a part of her. That there was no need to rush. And she was right.
Even with all those lingering feelings, the moment Yeo-hee sang, she shone in Seoyeon’s eyes.
The difference was only two votes. It might as well have been the difference of a single person.
Seoyeon felt she had completely lost in that moment.
In a competition like this, what determines the winner when performing a song is empathy—how many people can relate to your song.
But at that moment, the Gray Crow brought her memories to the stage.
Naturally, it was something the general audience wouldn’t be able to empathize with. It was a song for one person.
Seoyeon could vaguely feel that.
And yet, the Gray Crow—Yeo-hee—won gracefully.
So, though Seoyeon may have pouted a little at the end, she felt that was okay.
"You have to move on and change, not get stuck in the past."
That’s what Seoyeon had been told countless times. She knew it well.
But what Yeo-hee showed her was entirely different.
Each person places value on different things, and there’s no need to conform to those standards.
If you are truly strong, you can carry even your past with you.
Lingering attachments to the past mean there was something worth holding onto.
Or maybe, there’s something more precious in your past than you realized.
Isn’t it a waste to throw it all away? That’s what it seemed like Yeo-hee was saying.
Of course, Seoyeon didn’t fully understand.
At the time, she hadn’t been in touch with her emotions.
But perhaps those lingering feelings were proof of the happiness her past self had left behind.
Suddenly, that thought crossed her mind.
And so, Seoyeon finally made her decision.
Nothing about her actions in the present would change.
She would carry on as she had decided from the beginning. The only thing that had changed was her understanding of the word graduation.
That was all.
"Oh? Seoyeon?"
"Yes?"
"Your acting has really improved. The scenes we shot today are fantastic! I can’t believe you’re still getting better."
Director Kim Il-soo of Sky Garden said this with a smile.
Had she really gotten better? Seoyeon wasn’t sure, but she thought it might be true.
Thanks to recent events, she had a better understanding of how to portray the character Lee Yoo-joo.
It wasn’t something that Director Kim Il-soo or writer Min Sehee had specifically mentioned.
It was just something Seoyeon herself had come to believe.
That people are complex, and sometimes there are parts of themselves even they don’t fully understand.
She had experienced that herself, so maybe Lee Yoo-joo did, too.
"By the way..."
The director leaned in and asked in a low voice.
"The Masked Singer finals are this week, right? Who won?"
At that, Seoyeon smiled faintly.
She had originally joined the show for promotional purposes.
But since she kept winning, she never really got the chance to promote her work.
Still...
"The promotion should be just right."
At her words, Director Kim Il-soo’s eyes widened momentarily, then he smiled knowingly.
If that were the case, the timing couldn’t be more perfect.
With the airing of the tenth episode coming up, it would certainly serve as the perfect hook to upend the competition.
Director Kim Il-soo felt confident about that.
Gwak Hyun-woo, team leader of the marketing division at Aidiz, was in a great mood these days.
There had been some strange developments, like the Juseoyeon Challenge, but Aidiz’s sales were definitely on the rise.
Especially after the airing of Sky Garden’s fourth episode, sales had been steadily increasing week by week—by one or two percent.
It may not seem like much, but when those small increments add up, they become quite significant.
So lately, Gwak Hyun-woo had been walking around the office with his head held high.
No one opposed using Juseoyeon as their advertising model anymore.
"When did I ever say anything against it? Of course, we need her as our model."
That was the general sentiment, and people at Aidiz just went along with it. It seemed the whole incident had become a forgotten black mark in their history.
"The drama’s definitely good. Since Sky Garden started airing, sales have been steadily rising."
"That’s right."
"But I thought the numbers would spike more dramatically... seems like that’s not the case."
At Deputy Manager Kim’s comment, Gwak Hyun-woo laughed.
"You have to be realistic, Deputy Kim. That kind of thing only happens if a drama is extremely successful. For a product placement for chairs, it’s already amazing we’re seeing results like this."
"Really?"
"Yeah, ever since the fourth episode, our product exposure has increased, and that was perfect timing. Juseoyeon is smart, too."
Deputy Kim found himself puzzled.
Smart? From what he had seen of her on TV, she didn’t seem particularly clever.
But having become a loyal fan of Juseoyeon, he couldn’t say anything to contradict Gwak Hyun-woo.
"At this point, we’ve gone up as much as we can... as long as we maintain this, it’ll be great."
Gwak Hyun-woo murmured to himself.
It was Monday, and the ninth episode of Sky Garden had aired. Tomorrow, the tenth episode would follow.
‘I hope we see more of those chairs.’
Even though they had been featured quite a bit, human greed knows no bounds.
Gwak Hyun-woo simply wanted to see even more results from the product placement.
This chapter is updated by freēwēbnovel.com.
However...
When he watched the ninth episode on Monday and the tenth episode the next day, all those thoughts vanished.
"What the... You’re ending it like this?!"
He couldn’t help but exclaim aloud. The content had caught him completely off guard.
"Hyunseok!"
Actor Han Sung-jin, who played the friend of Lee Min-hyuk—Kim Hyun-seok’s character in Sky Garden—patted him on the back with a wide grin.
It was no wonder, given the headlines:
‘Sky Garden’ Strikes Back! Ratings Rise to 14 Percent. Only 1 Percent Behind ‘Grand Game’!
What Will Become of Lee Yoo-joo? Tension Peaks in Episode 10 Finale.
And among those articles was another:
Who Is Kim Hyun-seok, the Actor Behind Lee Min-hyuk? Great Chemistry with Juseoyeon!
For the first time, Kim Hyun-seok wasn’t being compared unfavorably to Seoyeon’s acting. It was probably the first time he’d seen positive reviews of his performance.
"I was really worried about the last shoot, but it turned out well."
"...Yeah."
But to some extent, he had expected it.
That’s how well the ninth and tenth episodes had turned out.
Reading through the reviews of his performance, he came across this:
When the drama first began, Kim Hyun-seok’s performance was somewhat lackluster, but in the recently aired tenth episode, he delivered an excellent performance.
He vividly portrayed Lee Min-hyuk’s feelings of inferiority, breathing life into the character and showing that he, too, is a victim in the story.
Reading this, Kim Hyun-seok couldn’t help but chuckle.
Showing feelings of inferiority?
‘That wasn’t acting.’
He didn’t say it aloud, though.
Not out of some noble intent to avoid raining on his friend’s parade.
It was just that everyone on set already knew. There was no need to say it.
Even Seoyeon knew.
‘My inferiority complex.’
Episodes 9 and 10 had scenes that required Lee Min-hyuk to express his inferiority more overtly.
The ninth and tenth episodes of Sky Garden revolved around the Hyuksoo family’s trip. Though it was called a family trip, Min-seo’s friends had also joined, making it more of a social gathering.
Naturally, Lee Yoo-joo was part of that group.
If Min-seo went on a trip, Yoo-joo would naturally be there as well.
And the major incident that occurred at the trip’s destination was the focus of episode 10.
"Everyone, stay focused! Stay focused! There’s going to be an accident scene!"
It had been a difficult shoot, with numerous complex scenes. During one of them, Seoyeon had spoken to Hyun-seok.
Seoyeon rarely interfered with other actors’ performances, so Hyun-seok was caught off guard.
He had always acted as if he was fine around Seoyeon, but it was only an act. He hadn’t been truly unaffected by her presence.
He just avoided looking at her too much.
If he watched her for too long, the inferiority complex he had suppressed would rise up.
But this time, he couldn’t avoid it.
‘She’s changed.’
There was something different about her. He couldn’t quite explain it, but Seoyeon’s acting had definitely improved.
She was still playing Lee Yoo-joo, but something about the portrayal had deepened, become more dimensional.
How could she do that?
He had already struggled to keep up with her earlier performances, but now it was even harder to match her.
When one actor’s performance is overwhelmingly strong, the scene can look unbalanced if the other actors don’t match up.
And that was exactly what was happening.
Hyun-seok wasn’t just struggling; he was ruining the scenes with Seoyeon’s performance.
"Hyun-seok, you need to add more depth to your character. Why is he coming across so flat?"
Already exhausted from the difficult shoot, Hyun-seok now had to contend with the fact that Seoyeon’s acting had improved yet again, drawing more attention to his shortcomings.
He had lost count of the number of takes they’d done. Even without anyone saying it, the tension was palpable.
The only one who remained calm was Seoyeon.
She didn’t offer any additional comments.
She simply looked at him, her gaze more impactful than any words.
Had Seoyeon ever been criticized during this shoot?
No.
She had been showered with praise.
While he was the one ruining the scene.
Not even good enough to be a mere side character.
And so, his real emotions started leaking into his performance.
Even though he tried to suppress them, they burst through.
But then...
"Cut! Cut! That’s great. Let’s go with that."
Director Kim Il-soo finally nodded with satisfaction.
Most people on set understood the situation and gave him sympathetic looks.
Seoyeon, however, quietly approached him and said:
"You did a great job expressing Lee Min-hyuk’s inferiority complex."
"...What?"
"It felt so real, it was almost scary."
"...??"
Was she mocking him?
No, she wasn’t. Her expression was far too sincere for that.
Seoyeon nodded to herself as if proud of his performance, leaving Hyun-seok bewildered.
What was going on?
He couldn’t help but feel that it had been a form of provocation, making his next performance even more intense.
But it seemed Seoyeon had interpreted it all as acting.
So, after it was all over, the animosity faded away.
Reflecting on this, Hyun-seok chuckled to himself.
"Well, I’ve decided not to bring personal feelings into it anymore."
"You? Seriously?"
Of course, his friend Han Sung-jin looked incredulous.
Regardless of this "growth" of the actors, Sky Garden’s ratings began to soar dramatically after the tenth episode.
And it wasn’t just because the tenth episode had been particularly well-made.
It was thanks to an unexpected bombshell dropped on a variety show that weekend.
Masked Singer.
For a while, Masked Singer’s ratings had been in decline. But with the appearance of the Gray Crow, viewership had picked back up.
The anticipation was high because it had been a long time since a singer had reached the Hall of Fame. If she won this time, she’d be the eighth one to do so.
Even if she lost, there was a lot of curiosity about her true identity.
On social media and in various online communities, most people were betting on the Gray Crow to win.
Of course, those who had already seen the show knew the winner but couldn’t spoil it online.
What flipped the mood entirely, however, was Manlap Rabbit’s song choice.
When Manlap Rabbit suddenly started singing this nostalgic song, the online communities lit up instantly.