Chapter 43: Love Makes People Foolish

Under the parasol.

Kim Ji-won scooped up some crystal-clear mango shaved ice and drifted over to Krystal, tapping her plastic spoon rhythmically against the cup:

"Whoa, Bona's personal cold front is more effective than central air conditioning."

"Peace of mind brings natural coolness."

"Pfft—"

Kim Ji-won suddenly chuckled: "If the way you were glaring at Chan-young wasn't enough to ignite flammable materials, I almost would have believed you."

Seeing the other stay silent, she pulled over a folding chair, sat down, and spooned a mouthful of fruit into her mouth:

"Could you possibly be jealous of senior Yoona?"

"Just colleagues."

Kim Ji-won's spoon tip poked at the support truck banner:

"Top-tier goddess passionately pursuing a theater nerd, does this plot sound familiar?"

"What?"

"Kim Tan passionately pursuing Cha Eun-sang. Cross-class romances are just fabrications writers use to trick people out of their tears."

Kim Ji-won flashed a playful look: "You don't actually think senior Yoona would fall for him, do you?"

Krystal turned her head to avoid the other's scrutiny: "What's that got to do with me."

"Really nothing to do with you?"

Kim Ji-won pointed at the support truck again: "Then why hasn't your line of sight shifted more than three meters away from his radius since a moment ago?"

"Memorizing lines requires a point of reference."

Krystal peeked secretly at Kang Jae-hoon, who was helping the staff distribute meals: "Lee Bona's lines all revolve around him."

"Just a reminder—"

Kim Ji-won leisurely enjoyed her dessert:

"When a goddess whose status gap is wider than the Han River suddenly stoops to help, it's either marketing a persona or investing in a potential stock. Instead of staring at distant stars, you'd better watch out for a certain roommate who has the home-field advantage."

Krystal abruptly turned her head: "Didn't you just say they have no chance?"

"Didn't you just say it's none of your business?"

Their gazes locked in mid-air.

"He's coming over!" Kim Ji-won suddenly lowered her voice.

Out of the corner of her eye, Krystal caught sight of Kang Jae-hoon walking over with lunch boxes, and hurriedly snatched up her script, flipping through the pages frantically.

"The last box."

Kang Jae-hoon held up a plastic container, squeezing under the parasol, and handed it directly in front of Krystal: "I snatched this right out of Myung-soo's mouth."

Park Hyung-sik's wail echoed from the direction of the food truck:

"Hyung, you're favoring a girl over your bro!"

Kim Ji-won made faces at Krystal:

"Um...... I think I heard the director calling me—"

"Sit down."

Krystal grabbed the hem of her shirt.

Kang Jae-hoon scratched the back of his head with a good-natured smile:

"Bona hasn't gotten to eat anything yet."

"......Thanks."

Krystal snatched the container, scooped up a mouthful of mango, and shoved it into her mouth. The sweetness spread from the tip of her tongue all the way to the tips of her ears, but she still maintained her haughty expression on the surface.

When she forked up the third piece, she suddenly noticed a fresh scratch on the back of Kang Jae-hoon's left hand.

"Did a cat scratch you?" Krystal asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Kang Jae-hoon looked down at the back of his hand:

"Ah, Myung-soo's school badge grazed me when we were fighting over the lunch box earlier."

"......Idiot."

Kang Jae-hoon's foolish grin froze at the corners of his mouth: "Huh?"

"I said the mango is quite sweet."

No sooner had Krystal finished speaking than a staff member from the support truck called Kang Jae-hoon over to check the gift-return list for Im Yoon-ah.

As soon as he ran off, Kim Ji-won pinched her voice and mimicked her:

"The~ mango~ is~ quite~ sweet~"

"Unnie!"

The tips of Krystal's ears instantly turned beet red, and she stamped her foot as if trying to drill a hole in the ground.

"Who was it just now being two-faced and saying they didn't care?" Kim Ji-won twirled her plastic spoon around. "Teacher Kang barely scraped a patch of skin, and someone's gaze was practically burning a hole through the back of his hand."

"Shut up!"

"Love makes people stupid, makes people cranky, and also makes—"

Kim Ji-won suddenly leaped up and retreated three steps: "Shooting love beam waves straight at her crush!"

Krystal picked up the plastic box, making a motion to throw it, but the other person had already darted off like an agile rabbit into the ice cream line.

The parasol swayed gently in the breeze, casting dancing shadows across her blushing cheeks.

She shoved the last piece of mango into her mouth.

The sweetness slid down her esophagus into her heart, quietly brewing tiny bubbles beneath the third rib on the left side of her chest.

In the distance, the sound of Kang Jae-hoon talking with the staff blended with the tinkling bells of the support truck, slowly drifting through the September air on the set.

The setting sun melted the coffee shop's floor-to-ceiling windows into the color of honey.

After an ultra-long standby, Kang Jae-hoon and Krystal finally ushered in their first scene in The Heirs.

In theory.

This scene wasn't difficult; in fact, one could say there weren't any truly difficult acting sequences in the entire drama.

But reality was quite different.

Starting right from the director's script-sprinting notes, Kang Jae-hoon could distinctly feel the gap between films and television dramas.

When he worked on movies, directors would break down a scene, chew it up, and explain every minute detail.

They could even specify down to every single frame what expression an actor should use to achieve a certain effect.

Television dramas were different; directors provided merely "result-oriented guidance."

For instance, when handling a crying scene:

Film directors would push actors until their tear ducts were utterly drained, whereas television drama directors only cared whether the actor's tears looked bright enough on camera.

Of course, this wasn't meant to negate the professionalism of drama directors—

After all, one's own biological child and a fostered child naturally receive different levels of devotion.

Therefore, if he wanted to showcase his acting chops, Kang Jae-hoon had to learn to improvise within a limited framework.

Soon enough.

With the director's brief instructions concluded, the first take officially began.

"Action!"

Kang Jae-hoon immediately raised his book to shield his face.

Park Shin-hye, dressed in a cafe uniform, paused by the table with a tray:

"Hey, is this the only coffee shop in Seoul? Why do you guys always schedule your dates here..."

Before she could finish, Kang Jae-hoon suddenly pulled out a plaid umbrella from his chair and handed it over:

"The weather forecast says it's going to rain when your shift ends."

"Then... what about you?"

Taking advantage of her hesitation, Kang Jae-hoon pressed the umbrella handle into her palm.

The moment his fingertips brushed against the lines of Park Shin-hye's palm, he instinctively curled his fingers back as if struck by an electric current.

This was the boundary line with a childhood friend that Kang Jae-hoon had designed to convey through physical movement.

He just wondered if that part got a close-up shot...

The subsequent plot progressed step by step until Lee Bona, played by Krystal, made her entrance—

"Yoon Chan-young, don't you dare look at her!"

The shop door was violently pushed open, and Krystal stepped into the frame wearing black Martin boots.

The collar of her white knit sweater revealed the edge of a blue-and-white striped shirt, and the hem of her black miniskirt fluttered with her sudden stop, revealing the taut muscle lines just above her knees.

Her wide-open eyes sparked with tiny flames—it was the haughtiness that belonged to Lee Bona, and also the irrepressible vitality belonging to Krystal.

The instant she burst into the frame, a spark of light suddenly illuminated Kang Jae-hoon's pupils—that was the "girlfriend filter" exclusive to Yoon Chan-young.

However, when Krystal collided with his smiling eyes, her heartbeat skipped a beat—

The gaze Kang Jae-hoon cast upward at her was too burning, so searing that her head buzzed as if a group of Minions were throwing a party inside her brain.

This caused the lines she had fully prepared to instantly vaporize.

"Cut!"

The director's roar came booming from behind the monitor: "Where are your lines?!"

"I-I'm sorry, Director..."

Not far away.

Kim Ji-won shook her head as she watched Krystal bow and apologize to the director:

"You really can't blame her. If it were me facing that kind of gaze, I'd break character too."

"Is that so?"

Hearing this, Park Hyung-sik grinned widely:

"That tender gaze, that subtle, ambiguous smile—"

Kim Ji-won嫌弃 (disgustedly) edged half a meter away:

"You look like a Samoyed caught stealing fried chicken."

"Hey! I call this professional reenactment!"

Park Hyung-sik unconvincedly pulled out his phone in selfie mode:

"Look at this angle. If Bona saw me smiling like this, her NG count would definitely double!"

"You?" Kim Ji-won sneered. "She'd file a request to change the male lead on the spot."

"...Then should I add a head-tilt kill?"

"That's just a neck spasm you've got."

"Aish..."