Chapter Twelve: Another Film in the Works?

Mingyan promptly refilled Eun-sook Kim’s coffee.

“I really can’t imagine what you’re like when taking care of a child.”

Eun-sook shook her head with a smile.

In her eyes, Mingyan was still a child himself, after all, he was only twenty-two.

Eun-sook Kim was born in 1973, making her forty-three now—roughly the same age as Mingyan’s parents.

Of course, Mingyan’s situation was somewhat unique. His father had him in middle age, which had directly led to his mother’s passing, creating a very strained relationship between father and son.

“Teacher, I don’t have much experience either. It’s just that I really couldn’t say no.” His older sister was going abroad, and if she couldn’t entrust Min-chan to her brother, then who else could she?

Eun-sook held back a laugh. “Kids in their early teens are usually okay. You’re not that much older than them anyway.”

To her, Mingyan still seemed like a child who hadn’t fully grown up. Though his demeanor was mature, he harbored secrets deep inside, secrets he refused to share with anyone.

Those were places no one else could reach.

“Teacher, I’m learning little by little.”

“By the way, why the arts high school? Does your niece want to be an actress?”

Eun-sook suddenly remembered another question. Only those aiming for the entertainment industry would choose an arts high school.

If Mingyan wanted to send his niece to arts high school because he was an actor, then she as a teacher should play her part.

“No, she wants to be a trainee. She even got a scout’s card,” Mingyan said proudly when mentioning Min-chan.

Elders often praised children when talking about them to others, sometimes with subtle compliments even in mild criticisms.

“I see.”

Eun-sook nodded. It was quite normal for a young girl in Korea to aspire to be a trainee.

“So, teacher, can you help me pull some strings?” Mingyan smiled. “Although I graduated from Hanlim Arts High as well, I definitely don’t have as much influence as you.”

“Alright, you’re almost blowing me up with praise. School is important; I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Eun-sook felt like she was becoming a family head, having once taught acting and now helping a student’s niece find a school.

“Thank you, teacher.”

“You making things easier for me is the best thanks.”

“Well then, teacher, I’ll go now. Min-chan’s home alone.”

Mingyan glanced at his phone—no calls or texts from Min-chan. Everything seemed normal.

Having a little one at home really did change the atmosphere.

***

Eun-sook raised her hand. “Wait, I still have something to say.”

“Teacher, what else is there?” Mingyan asked, confused. They had already discussed the advertisement.

“You’re almost forgetting you’re an actor yourself,” Eun-sook scolded with a hint of frustration. “Why do you seem so carefree, as if you’re resting on your laurels? Aren’t you worried about your future?”

“Teacher, that’s not true. I’ve been nonstop for nearly a year.”

Mingyan quickly protested.

After filming Descendants of the Sun, he joined the crew for various promotional events, then Eun-sook got him a cameo in Goblin. Though called a cameo, his role wasn’t that small, just a bit fragmented.

“Young people need ambition. Don’t you want to be the lead?”

“Teacher, I’ve thought about it, but Brother Won-ryong said there’s no suitable script yet.” Mingyan had been preoccupied with Min-chan’s situation and hadn’t given much thought to new dramas.

Some actors manage only one project a year, but he hadn’t rested since debuting, with resources so good that many envied him.

What could he do? Eun-sook was his only mentor.

“I’m planning to take a break soon, but there’s a script here…”

“Teacher, what kind of script?”

“It’s a lead role for you. I think it’s decent.”

“Alright, teacher. Your judgment is what matters.”

Mingyan trusted Eun-sook’s eye. She had a stellar record in the screenwriting world. Some others were lucky to have one hit drama, but Eun-sook consistently delivered.

Since debut, Mingyan had been under her care and had never failed.

For now, he’d focus on taking care of Min-chan. Everything else could wait.

“An actor who can’t read scripts isn’t a good actor. I’ll send you the script in a few days,” Eun-sook said, giving him a sharp look.

“Got it, teacher. I’m off then.”

“Can’t tell at first… but you’re starting to look like an uncle.”

Eun-sook muttered to herself, then glanced at the script on her screen—The Road of a Third-rate.

***

At the door of his home, Mingyan initially intended to enter the code and go in, but his hand hesitated and dropped.

Before leaving, he had specifically told Min-chan not to open the door if someone knocked. He wanted to test the little one’s safety awareness.

*Ding dong.*

Mingyan pressed the doorbell.

He expected Min-chan to ask who it was, but the child opened the door immediately.

“Min-chan, haven’t you forgotten what I told you?” Mingyan put on a stern face, determined to assert his authority as an elder. Safety awareness was important.

“What?”

“Don’t open the door for strangers.”

“Uncle, you’re not a stranger.”

“How do you know… Ah, right.” Mingyan recalled the door’s video system. Once the doorbell pressed, they could see who was there. “Min-chan, you did very well.”

“Uncle, how did I do well?”

“You opened the door very quickly.”

Min-chan was momentarily stunned, then laughed. She admired her uncle’s ability to find a reason.

Mingyan went back inside to change clothes. “Min-chan, have you heard of Hanlim Arts High School?”

“Yes.”

Hanlim Arts High and Seoul Performing Arts High were where many idols had come from.

“How about I arrange for you to go to Hanlim Arts High? Your uncle studied there,” Mingyan said with a smile.

“I’ve heard mom talk about it.”

Min-chan seemed to recall something. Her mother often told her about her brother in Seoul. As the eldest sister and youngest brother, Mingyan’s place in the sister’s heart was probably comparable to Min-chan’s.

“What did your sister say?”

“Mom told me many things about you, uncle, including the school you attended.” Min-chan’s fandom of Mingyan was inseparable from her mother’s recommendations.

Mingyan sighed. “I see…”

He knew what his sister worried about, but this hurdle wouldn’t be easy.

“Uncle, can I really become a trainee at S.M.?” Min-chan’s voice was uncertain.

“Don’t worry. Your uncle will arrange special training for you.”