After five full days of adjustments, filming finally resumed.
"How does someone become as popular as Chu Zhi-oppa? His fans visiting the set brought the entire production to a halt for five days. If I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't have believed it."
The speaker was Cho Mina, the actress playing the second female lead. A mid-tier figure in the Korean entertainment industry, she rarely landed leading roles, but she was a frequent choice for scheming supporting characters. Offscreen though, she was quite active and maintained a good relationship with Song Minghee, the main actress.
"Five days of shutdown. That's practically a legend in the entertainment world," Song Minghee nodded.
At first, the crew had complaints about Chu Zhi. Whether it was intentional or not, the delay was ultimately pinned on him.
But during that downtime, Chu Zhi took the initiative to smooth things over. He didn't act arrogant or entitled despite his immense popularity. In fact, he even prepared jars of kimchi for everyone on set. It was hard to stay mad when your mouth was full.
"Many of my friends in the industry are fans of Chu Zhi," said Song Minghee. "They kept asking me to get his autograph for them, again and again."
Cho Mina opened her mouth to ask about Chu Zhi's appearance fee—someone with his level of fame had to be charging a fortune. But she quickly swallowed the question. Discussing pay on set was a big taboo.
"Manager Jo seems to have something against Chu Zhi-oppa, doesn't he?" Cho Mina said.
"Not sure." Song Minghee's expression darkened slightly at the mention of the name. "Has Secretary Jo asked you to go out for drinks after filming ends each day?"
Manager Jo referred to the head of the secretary office at SBS, one of the network's main investors.
"No, of course not." The words flew out of Cho Mina's mouth, though in truth, he had. She just didn't want Song Minghee to know.
"If it were Chu Zhi-oppa asking me out for drinks, I'd be on the floor after one glass," she added with a laugh to deflect suspicion.
"I heard something two nights ago," said Song Minghee. "Apparently one of the actresses bribed a crew member to sneak into Chu Zhi's room."
"A brave warrior," Cho Mina quipped. "And?"
"He politely showed her the door," Song Minghee said. "Chu Zhi is different from our local male stars. He's incredibly disciplined."
"Men are like cats," Cho Mina countered. "They all like to sneak around. I think the problem was that the actress just wasn't pretty enough."
The implication behind her words was clear: if the woman had her looks, she wouldn't have failed.
But Song Minghee remained skeptical. She had a kissing scene with Chu Zhi and they had gone back and forth on how to handle it—whether it should be real or staged. Nothing had been decided. It would be Chu Zhi's first on-screen kiss.
Filming in South Korea moved faster than in Japan, possibly because TV series didn't require the same meticulous detail as films. The male lead, Professor Baek, hardly needed acting skills. According to the script, he had lived for four centuries and was already beyond emotion. There was no need to bring in someone like Liao Dachong for coaching. Even the actor playing the Emperor Beast could've done it.
"Chu Zhi has improved so much since shooting the movie. No wonder people call him the Dark Lord," one of the crew remarked.
"No need for a retake on that scene. It was perfect. The way he turned his head—there was no trace of acting. Like a tree growing in the wild. Completely natural," said writer Ryu Taeseok and director Gong Ji after another scene.
It felt a bit like they were trying to coax a child with praise. If Chu Zhi hadn't known his own limits, if he wasn't grounded by his experience as the Emperor Beast, it would've been easy to get swept away by constant flattery.
The wallpaper on Chu Zhi's phone read, "You still have a lot to learn," a message he had designed himself. Like Lu Xun's famous carved "Morning" plaque, it was there to keep him grounded.
The scenes shot in Incheon were all grouped together. In less than ten days, they'd wrapped up filming in the city. The crew now needed to move to a different location.
Most of My Love From the Stars was shot in Seoul.
For instance, the next scene was being filmed at a boutique in Nonhyeon-dong. The boutique owner had provided the space for free in exchange for a photo with Song Minghee.
In this scene, Professor Baek took the female lead shopping. There they ran into the second lead, played by Cho Mina. Tensions came to a head, and their friendship shattered.
As they walked out, a helmeted figure in black threw a glass fishbowl from the rooftop, trying to kill the female lead.
Professor Baek teleported to save her, and the second lead caught a glimpse of it, recognizing him from a Christmas night years ago.
"Action," director Gong Ji shouted.
Chu Zhi gently helped Song Minghee to her feet. In the story, Professor Baek saved the female lead by knocking her out of harm's way. They only needed to shoot the action of him lunging and then a separate shot of them on the ground.
"Cut. Mina, when you recognize Professor Baek as the man from Christmas night, you need to look more shocked," Gong Ji instructed, giving her a few minutes to adjust before restarting.
According to the script, Chu Zhi was to lift the female lead in a bridal carry and take her to the hospital.
Luckily, he had enough strength. If not, it would've been awkward for both of them.
"Stop, stop, stop," Gong Ji called again.
"If I didn't know this was for TV, I'd think I was watching a stage play," he said, clearly irritated.
He didn't even call her by name—just her full name.
"One more time. Think it through properly," Gong Ji said.
Song Minghee and Chu Zhi took a short break. After a moment of hesitation, Song Minghee asked, "Chu Zhi, I'm not... too heavy, am I?"
"If you were any lighter, I'd think I was holding a cloud," Chu Zhi replied.
For actresses, weight was a sensitive topic. His response was perfect.
On the third take, Cho Mina still didn't meet the director's expectations. Gong Ji started getting visibly agitated, his words becoming sharper.
Cho Mina felt the pressure. And the more she felt it, the worse she did. She missed her cues again and again—seven or eight takes in a row.
Even Chu Zhi was getting tired of carrying her. Gong Ji looked ready to hit someone.
"Director Gong, let's pick this up again tomorrow," Chu Zhi suggested. "Maybe the mood just isn't right today."
In the crew's hierarchy, the top three were the production rep, Chu Zhi, and writer Ryu Taeseok.
With Chu Zhi speaking up, Gong Ji had no choice but to rein in his frustration.
Manager Jo, the production representative, remained silent. Even though he had once shared drinks and a one-night stand with Cho Mina, that didn't mean he would stick his neck out for her.
In his opinion, Chu Zhi's acting wasn't even as good as Cho Mina's.
But Gong Ji was all politeness, and Ryu Taeseok was even willing to rewrite the script to make difficult scenes easier.
They were all just a bunch of bootlickers. Foreign-loving cowards. Chu Zhi makes a mistake and no one says a word. All the frustration just gets dumped on locals. It was pathetic.
Of course, Manager Jo wouldn't actually criticize Chu Zhi. Why would he pick a fight with a rising star sweeping across Asia?
Seniority and status were everything in Korean entertainment. But Chu Zhi didn't seem to notice. Things were going surprisingly smoothly for him on set.
While filming My Love From the Stars, on July 26th, Xiao Yue published a lengthy research paper titled An Analysis of Idol Worship Among Teenagers and Positive Guidance Case Studies. The subtitle read: Chu Zhi and Little Fruits. The paper was released in a major journal focused on cultural studies.
[The phenomenon of idol worship reflects Generation Z's complex psychological needs and their longing for an ideal life. In today's modern context, idol worship has already become...]
The opening was simple. Nothing flashy.
===
Guess what? (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
After I started translating the apocalypse novel, something unexpected happened:
My mood actually came back.
Like, snap, suddenly I was in the zone. Before I knew it, I'd translated around 100 chapters (yes, a hundred!), and even started working again on other novels that were still running on thin drafts.
Great news, right?
...Well. Yes.
BUT.
Apparently, my body didn't get the memo. Or worse, it did get the memo and went, "Nope."
Despite my mind feeling clearer, my physical health has been… not great.
We're still deep in the Sura Month, with the Lunar Eclipse just behind us, the Earth's energy shifting into higher frequencies, and now—hello again—the Lion's Gate Portal (a spiritual energetic gateway peaking around August 8).
Seriously, why are all these cosmic events happening at the same time? Layered on top of each other like a cosmic sandwich?
It's like the universe stacked them up just to make sure I couldn't escape their collective wrath.
Too. Much. Energy.
I can't even tell if I'm being spiritually upgraded or just spiritually KO'd. (｡•́︿•̀｡)
Yeah, it's a bit too much for me right now.
Today, my health suddenly dropped again. I felt nauseous, started vomiting, cold sweats—none of that was on my to-do list, I swear. And honestly, I'm just sitting here wondering:
Why are all these cosmic shifts happening at once? Like, can the universe chill for five minutes?
(￣ヘ￣;)
Emotionally I'm slowly recovering, but physically, I'm still very much not okay. So if in future there's some delay on my update speed, please know I'm not being lazy—I'm just trying to not collapse into a puddle of moonlight and regret (╥﹏╥)
I'll still do my best to keep updates flowing, but I may need to take short breaks here and there to rest. Your patience means everything to me.
Thank you as always for reading, supporting, and understanding. Sending you all the stable energy I wish I had right now ♡(｡•́‿•̀｡)
— Your slightly wobbly translator, Reiya(ฅ'ω'ฅ)