Joseon Idols

The next day, I hung a sign on the tavern door that read, Closed for the day.I prepared to leave, packing some rice balls for the trip. If not for Byeolho, I could have left much earlier.His expression soured the moment I made only three rice balls. It only brightened once I reached thirty, at which point he finally seemed satisfied.Knowing he’d sulk and lose energy if I didn’t feed him enough, I had no choice but to comply. With him in tow, we headed to the marketplace.‘It’s market day, so business must be booming…’But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t aiming for success as a tavern keeper; my real goal was to bring back the kids who had believed in me and help them achieve true success.Just in case, I brought plenty of money. There were many questions I needed to ask the traveling namsadangpae (entertainers), and money had a way of slipping away quickly at a bustling market.“There!”From a distance, Yeolha waved his hand enthusiastically. He scanned us up and down with a critical gaze, dressed in luxurious silk.“What exactly did you bring?”“…Rice balls.”“Fine. Let’s just go.”Yeolha walked a few paces ahead, perhaps embarrassed to be seen with us.The marketplace was overflowing with sights and smells. Crispy pancakes sizzled on hot griddles, expensive silks fluttered in the wind, and small trinkets gleamed, drawing attention from every corner.But the real highlight of the marketplace was the madang—the open performance yard.Unlike the bustling stalls and packed vendors, the madang was strikingly empty, as if purposefully cleared. Soon, bundles of straw were spread across the ground, and the crowd buzzed with excitement.Not missing a beat, I nudged Byeolho’s back.He immediately understood my gesture, moving forward to claim a spot right at the edge of the straw mat. Thanks to him, we secured a prime viewing spot.“Tch, and we could’ve gotten seats without the trouble with just a few coins tossed their way…”Despite his grumbling, Yeolha’s eyes were glued to the performers preparing in the madang.The instruments, polished to a gleaming finish, promised vibrant melodies, while the performers themselves stretched and warmed up, moving with practiced ease. There were seven members in total—a sizable namsadangpae.‘So that’s how they prepare…’Even their preparation was a spectacle in itself. It was obvious at a glance.As people passed by, they suddenly struck the kkwaenggwari with a resounding clang, and when women walked by, they scooped up a bucket of water and splashed it onto their shirts, drenching them.It was a clever pre-show performance designed to capture attention.Before long, the madang was teeming with people. Then came the sound of the janggu drum, signaling the start of the show.“Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome!”The harmonious music filled the air, a delight to the ears. The members of the namsadangpae moved with ease, their expressions unbothered as they launched into effortless tumbling routines.‘Gasp…!’I had seen depictions of namsadangpae performances in movies before. But witnessing their live performance sent chills down my spine.They weren’t merely dancing and singing. They were engaging with the audience, inviting participation.In essence, they were performing a kind of theater—a collective performance co-created with the spectators.Madangnori wasn’t just a simple show; it was a multifaceted cultural art form.I couldn’t help but grin, my lips curling upward in satisfaction. No matter how I looked at it, the idol group I was building would thrive in this market.Korean idol stages were impeccable—perfectly calculated performances, polished to the finest detail. Yet, their flaw was obvious: they left no room for audience participation, relegating fans to mere onlookers.A stage that people couldn’t simply watch passively but would instead want to join in on—such a concept had potential.“…How on earth do we do that?!”“Does Daephyo noona seriously think we can pull something like that off?”Both Yeolha and Byeolho had gone pale. They seemed to have misunderstood, assuming I wanted them to replicate the namsadangpae performance exactly.I chuckled and patted their backs. Then, gesturing for them to follow, I said, “Come on, let’s get going.”The streets were noticeably quieter, likely because everyone had flocked to see the namsadangpae performance.Byeolho and Yeolha trailed behind me, their lips jutting out in sullen pouts, trudging along with slow, dragging steps.Earlier, Byeolho had kept a deliberate distance from Yeolha, but now, as if lost in deep thought, he stuck close to him, walking side by side.“Why are you two acting like this? You’re supposed to write your reflection pieces, remember?”“A reflection? What kind of reflection? Should I just write that I’ll never be able to do what they did and that I feel destined for failure?”“…….Daephyo noona…. Trying to pull off something like that performance with us just doesn’t seem realistic. Perhaps it’s wiser to focus on running the soup shop instead…”Their dejection was palpable. Iclapped my hands sharply, the sound echoing through the quiet street. It was enough to jolt them out of their gloom, making them lift their heads and look at me.I met each of their gazes squarely, my expression firm but not unkind.“We are not going to do a performance like that.”“…What?”“If we were just going to mimic their performance, why would we bother with market research in the first place? The whole point of market research is to figure out what makes us different—how we can stand out.”“…..”Yeolha stroked his chin thoughtfully at my words, his skepticism plain to see. I walked closer to him, fixing him with a determined look.“We’re going to do something entirely different. I know exactly how to make you two shine.”“…What’s that supposed to mean? Are you about to bring up that reincarnation story again?”“No. I’m talking about reality. Our performance won’t involve people throwing coins or shouting instructions at us. It’ll be something unique—something that only we can do.”I smiled at them with unwavering confidence, hoping to ignite even a sliver of hope in their hearts.***“Wait a minute… Are you telling me you brought us here of all places?”Yeolha’s voice was full of irritation as he clicked his tongue and wiped the sweat from his brow. His once-elegant hat had already been pushed back, long forgotten as he trudged behind me.Meanwhile, Byeolho, in his element, was already perched on a large rock ahead of us, looking as comfortable as a fish in water. He had scaled the slope effortlessly, like it was second nature.“What’s the point of dragging us all the way out here? Shouldn’t you at least give us time to work on those reflection pieces?”“We’ve already done the reflections. And you didn’t want to help Byeolho with his, remember? Let’s just pretend it’s finished.”“Pretend? What kind of nonsense is that? You can’t just ‘pretend’ to have studied or written something!”“Yes, you can.”“Wh-what?!”Yeolha exclaimed, his frustration reaching new heights. He wiped his face again, muttering under his breath.The truth was, the reason I had dragged them into the mountains wasn’t for more reflection but for something more practical. We needed wood.After watching the namsadangpae perform, I’d realized something crucial: we didn’t need the marketplace to make a spectacle. We already had the perfect stage—the joo-mak (tavern).However, to host performances at the tavern, the first thing we needed was chairs.Watching a performance while seated on straw mats could be quite tiring. We had a responsibility to provide our guests with the best possible comfort during their experience.“Chairs? The ground is more comfortable, I’m telling you!”Byeolho protested, vigorously chopping wood as he shook his head in disbelief.Sure, in the world we were in now, sitting cross-legged on the floor might be considered the most natural and comfortable way—but it made me uncomfortable just watching.Moreover, offering chairs subtly signaled something significant: a performance with chairs would impose some level of exclusivity on the audience. Only those willing to participate in a more refined experience would be able to attend.A limited supply always sparks greater desire. I let a faint smile play on my lips, envisioning the happy future that awaited us.“…Noona, didn’t you hear something?”Byeolho suddenly asked, setting down the axe he’d been using to chop wood.“Huh? Hear what?”Byeolho closed his eyes, his expression turning sharp. His unease was infectious, and both Yeolha and I held our breath.Rustle.The sound of branches brushing against one another echoed faintly. There was nothing particularly odd about such a sound in the forest, yet it felt unnervingly sinister this time.“Hey, what’s wrong?”Yeolha hesitantly approached Byeolho, his movements hesitant and unsure.Then, in a flash, Byeolho’s eyes snapped open, bright and alert.“Run!”Behind him, a massive shadow began to stretch, engulfing the area around us.Hi everyone! It's Flo here!

I usually translate BLs but I wanted to try something new and it's very interesting and fun for me to read so I hope you guys enjoy it too! The chapters will be updated every Thursday!

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