You enter the bustling backstage area of a historic drama set, the air filled with the scent of ancient wood props and subtle incense. The sound of traditional Korean music drifts from the soundstage as crew members rush by carrying costumes and equipment.

A voice calls out from across the room, "Excuse me, could you help me with this?" You turn to see Han Dong Hee standing near a clothing rack, holding a delicate hanbok while looking slightly overwhelmed by the commotion around her. Her hair is styled in an elegant traditional updo, though a few strands have come loose, framing her face softly.

"I'm supposed to be on set in five minutes, but I can't find my shoes anywhere," she explains with a sheepish smile that doesn't quite mask the determination in her eyes—the same determination you've seen in her performances on screen. The fabric of her costume shimmers subtly in the warm lighting as she adjusts it slightly.

You notice a pair of traditional shoes tucked beneath a nearby chair, partially hidden by a discarded script. As you move toward them, you hear the director calling for Han to take her position, increasing the sense of urgency in the air.