Chapter 7: The Performance of "Macbeth"

After dinner, Jiang Zai Xun busied himself in the kitchen, juggling pots and pans. The stainless steel pot had sticky rice cake residue stubbornly clinging to its bottom, refusing to dissolve even under the strongest water flow.

Jiang Zai Xun’s fingernails were white from gripping so tightly.

“Seong-gyeong—”

“Speak.”

“Well... are you free next Saturday night from 7:30 to 9:30?”

The roar of the faucet at full blast couldn’t mask Jiang Zai Xun’s hesitant question—an actor’s subtle delivery.

Seong-gyeong, wiping the table, didn’t pause.

“For what?”

“My play’s premiere...”

Jiang Zai Xun scrubbed the dishes so fast they left afterimages. “It’s fine if you don’t come, I’m just asking casually!”

“I’m going to Paris for a photo shoot.”

Seong-gyeong tossed the rag into the sink.

Water splashed onto her T-shirt collar, cold enough to make Jiang Zai Xun shiver.

“The cover for that... Model Weekly?”

“Yeah.”

“I heard it’s been raining a lot in Paris lately...”

“It’s an indoor shoot.”

“Oh...”

The next day, at the theater club.

During a break, manager Kim Da Won approached, chewing a toothpick.

“Save me two tickets for the premiere.”

“Aren’t you uninterested in theater?”

“Heh.”

Kim Da Won swiped through his phone album. “Met a bank clerk at a mixer last night. She likes watching plays.”

Jiang Zai Xun glanced at the screen and replied, “The tickets sold out yesterday.”

As one of Shakespeare’s four great tragedies, Macbeth holds an unshakable place in theater.

According to an international drama association survey of live theater enthusiasts worldwide, 63% had seen Macbeth performed at least once.

This classic, adapted and performed locally for the first time, was bound to stir a frenzy within the local theater community.

The three shows’ 2,400 tickets sold out as fast as tickets for an IU concert.

“That’s odd. Didn’t the director reserve seats for actors’ families?”

“Who else would they give them to?”

Jiang Zai Xun muttered, picking at his nails.

Kim Da Won understood immediately, nudging him playfully with his shoulder.

“Your roommate’s not coming?”

“Yeah...”

“Coward!”

Kim Da Won gave a phantom pat on his back. “Back in the day, I got drenched in ramen soup for sending a love letter to a female director—and you’re worse than that...”

“Jiang Zai Xun!”

The director’s distant shout interrupted.

“Here!”

“Come rehearse!”

“Yes!”

“If she really doesn’t come, don’t forget to save my seat in the family section!”

Kim Da Won called after him, watching his retreating back.

“I know...”

April 27th.

National Central Theater, Seoul · Sunrise Theater.

The night of Macbeth’s premiere.

Half an hour before the official performance.

The audience seats buzzed with people, nearly all of the 800 seats filled.

Kim Da Won sat with the bank clerk in the third row center.

Though not the best spot, having seats at this sold-out show was a blessing.

In the makeup room.

Jiang Zai Xun’s pale face reflected in the full-length mirror.

Kim Mi Hye tightened the corset laces on his back.

“Breathe in!”

“Ma’am... if I breathe in again, I’ll die...”

“A noblewoman must keep smiling even in death.”

“...”

Moments later.

Still on an empty stomach, Jiang Zai Xun clutched his costume and peered through the curtain at the audience.

The hall was a sea of black silhouettes.

Only the two empty seats in the family section stood out starkly.

The theater world holds a rule: reserved seats are not sold publicly—even if ticket scalpers inflate prices fivefold.

-----------------

Incheon International Airport, Seoul.

Y+ Model Agency was a mid-sized firm on the peninsula.

As a rising star nurtured by the agency, Seong-gyeong’s travel treatment was no less than that of some top celebrities.

Besides the head and assistant managers, her entourage included translators, legal advisors, psychological counselors, and even a makeup team.

“Storm warning, flight rescheduled to 10:30 PM.”

Head manager Kim Ya Min swiped her iPad and asked, “Rest in the VIP lounge now?”

Seong-gyeong glanced at the airport display: 7:35 PM.

“I’m heading back to the city.”

“What?!”

The assistant’s eyes went wide. “The shooting schedule—”

“Clause fourteen of the contract.”

Seong-gyeong opened the PDF on her phone. “If delays are due to force majeure, the artist may adjust the schedule by up to four hours.”

The legal advisor pushed up his glasses.

“But only with prior notice.”

“Notifying now.”

Seong-gyeong sent the theater’s location to the KakaoTalk work group.

Kim Ya Min tapped the map on the iPad.

“National Central Theater? It’s fifty-five minutes from the airport one way. With security buffer on the return, you won’t make it...”

“I’m just watching one scene.”

Seong-gyeong grabbed her boarding pass and headed for the exit.

The assistant chased after her to the automatic doors.

Only to see the taxi’s taillights slicing through the rain.

“Driver, can you be ten minutes faster?”

“Miss, that’s Jongno District.”

The driver glanced in the rearview mirror at her baseball cap.

“Unless a police escort, no way.”

“I’ll add 30,000 won.”

“Guaranteed arrival within 45 minutes.”

8:22 PM.

As the tires rolled over the speed bump beside the theater’s side entrance, Seong-gyeong nearly collided with the back of the front seat.

“Wait for me a moment, I’ll be right back.”

She handed the driver a 50,000 won bill, tightened her grip on the cap’s brim, and rushed into the theater.

A security guard chewing gum blocked her path.

“Fifty minutes in; no entry allowed.”

“I’m family of a cast member.”

“Every scalper says that.”

Seong-gyeong swiped open her phone album and held it up—inside was a photo of Jiang Zai Xun puffing his cheeks while eating instant noodles.

“You’re... Zai Xun’s—”

“Cousin.”

“Emergency exit on the left,” the guard stepped aside. “No phone flashlights. No recording or photography allowed.”

As Seong-gyeong entered the dim theater, Huang Jai Woo’s trembling voice rose from the stage.

“Mother!”

*Bang—*

Jiang Zai Xun knelt, his knee thudding in perfect sync with Seong-gyeong’s own knee hitting a fire extinguisher in the dark.

The assassin’s rubber blade pressed against his throat.

“Hand over Macduff’s heir!”

“Heh, you should fear his father’s wrath.”

Jiang Zai Xun shielded Huang Jai Woo behind him.

But the child peeked around his back, glaring fiercely at the assassin.

“Bad guy!”

Huang Jai Woo’s overzealous acting cracked his voice, even blowing a snot bubble.

A stifled laugh rose from the audience, quickly drowned out by Jiang Zai Xun’s fierce shout.

“Run!”

He pushed the child back, facing the assassin’s blade alone.

The rubber knife sliced across his neck.

*Bang—*

Jiang Zai Xun collapsed in the dignified pose of a noblewoman’s death—right hand reaching forward with three curled fingers.

Only this time, he fell slightly off the usual mark, angling the stage lights fully onto his right hand.

“Mother—!”

Huang Jai Woo’s wail made Jiang Zai Xun’s fingertips tremble as he squinted toward the family section.

The script called for running away without looking back, then being stabbed by the assassin.

But the child broke free from the director’s blocking, lunging back to shake him.

“Mother, wake up!”

The actor playing the assassin froze briefly before lunging to stab again.

Jiang Zai Xun lowered his voice, hissing, “Jai Woo, lie down! Quickly!”

The spotlight suddenly tightened into a half-meter circle.

Jiang Zai Xun’s curled three fingers were clasped by the child’s small hand.

The rubber knife hovered midair, while the backstage sound operator cued a heartbeat.

*Thump—*

*Thump—*

As the final heartbeat echoed, the spotlight snapped off.

Seong-gyeong found an empty seat in the dark just as Jiang Zai Xun exhaled his last breath.

Five seconds after the curtain fell, applause rippled from the back rows and spread throughout the hall.