The Reborn Genius of an Arts High School - Chapter 116

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 116.
“…It’s the best work I’ve done so far.”
Ha Eun spoke first.
“It’s my favorite. That’s why I painted it again.”
So Min followed suit.
Including Ye Ji, they had all arrived at similar answers.
“…….”
This time, Young—who hadn’t collaborated on the work—stepped forward to the podium last.
“I~ didn’t bother painting along because I still don’t have a work I’d call my favorite yet.”
She laughed playfully, insisting it wasn’t freeloading, but the words didn’t sound light.
Sometimes Ye Ji found the hollowness Young carried oddly unsettling.
“So I was curious. For what reason exactly do you all think that way? Is there no one like me who can’t decide and ends up doing nothing?”
Young’s words sounded like a question, but not one demanding an immediate answer.
“What if you didn’t choose the best, but rather the one you liked best among what you have?”
Best and best-of-what-you-have—both relative standards, and while they seemed similar at first glance, they differed.
The emotional temperature underlying the choice held a distinct difference.
Best meant selecting the finest among good things.
Best-of-what-you-have meant choosing necessarily from what you possessed.
At Young’s words, everyone fell silent in thought within the studio.
Ye Ji too paused while considering.
“……Even if I create something better than this, I think this work will remain my favorite for a while.”
For one thing, all of Ye Ji’s works were good.
So linguistically, they fit the definition of best.
Moreover, even as better works would continue to emerge, something told her this one would stay her favorite for quite some time.
Young asked back in response to Ye Ji’s words.
“If there’s a reason?”
“Well….”
Ye Ji gathered her thoughts and paused for a moment.
She’d never really thought this deeply in that direction before.
“The evaluation that it’s my best work isn’t just mine—other people have judged it the same way, haven’t they?”
The meaning of artwork is subjective, but not personal.
When multiple subjective evaluations converge in a certain direction, that becomes artistic merit.
Of course, the artist’s ideology and values contained within it play a large part as well.
“It was the first work I showed in a major way, and it’s received considerable recognition.”
Moreover, the work wasn’t sold to someone else—it confidently claimed a place at Montrebleu.
The significance of it being first, combined with the meaning that it will be shown to many more people for years to come, lent it special weight.
“In the end, we all study together like this because we want recognition from the public.”
Everyone had selected “the most praised work” as their “favorite work.”
It meant they all shared the same feeling: that others’ recognition becomes one’s own satisfaction.
The psychology of popular culture following trends, even as consumption rather than creation, is perhaps a desire to have one’s taste recognized.
And that might ultimately be a wish not to fall behind, but to walk in step with others.
However much personal artistic philosophy influences the process and beginning.
No matter how much one deliberated and agonized, the conclusion always arrived there.
“In that sense, would it really be wrong if the work you like best became the one you did best?”
Even if the choice was one of picking the better option among what you have, what’s the problem?
In essence, there’d be no real difference.
Young fell into thought at Ye Ji’s words.
“Still, ultimately art is….”
Mm….
Young hesitated, limited by her Korean vocabulary, then continued with a sentence mixing English and Korean.
Her words were rough, but since everyone spoke some English, understanding wasn’t particularly difficult.
“Does the artist’s individual measure of satisfaction have to come from outside?”
At her words, Ye Ji fell back into thought.
What Young said wasn’t wrong. It was right, and in some ways, she deeply resonated with it.
‘I had a bit of that too, back then….’
Young was an artist who read the public mind well.
That’s how she’d gained her current fame.
But Catherine, who had truly insisted only on her own artistic vision—what of her?
Locked in her own world, she’d had no choice but to wait until someone would recognize her.
Perhaps Ye Ji’s current openness toward art was a reaction against that time.
“Stagnant water rots, after all. We need to accept the water flowing in from outside and the wind that stirs it up.”
Neither option was necessarily right.
If too much outside water came in, the original water would disappear.
But if one thought of it from the perspective that it was all the same water anyway.
There seemed no need to be overly cautious.
As Ye Ji was choosing her words, an unexpected voice continued.
“Wouldn’t it be fine? As long as you’re not too hung up on it….”
This time it was So Min who spoke up.
“If you’re only going to satisfy yourself, there’d be no need to study together like this. Scribbling alone in a corner would be enough.”
“I think the same.”
The moment Ye Ji agreed with So Min, gazes from both sides converged.
As So Min and Ha Eun looked at Ye Ji simultaneously, she flinched slightly.
After Ha Eun and So Min had fought badly, they’d never really talked properly.
In the Special Class, So Min had made her dislike for Ye Ji quite clear, and Ye Ji had mostly ignored her.
That Ye Ji would nod in agreement with So Min now, despite all that, brought surprised looks.
Ye Ji found herself adding something like an explanation.
“……Just, ……that’s what I mean.”
There wasn’t really any deep meaning to it.
It was simply that she had the same thought, nothing more to read into it.
But had she imagined the way So Min’s expression softened?
With the atmosphere somehow lighter, the Special Class lesson ended.
Unlike the students who left the classroom lighter somehow, with a small revelation in tow.
“…….”
Young remained in the classroom for quite some time, lost in thought.
Awkward and brilliant replicas of varying quality.
Among these copies carrying someone else’s satisfaction and achievement, Young still had more to contemplate.
***
Ye Ji had recently made a habit of stopping by the Studio even after Special Class ended late.
Especially when inspiration struck.
If she could, she’d paint through the night, school and all.
“Ugh….”
But that wasn’t possible.
Ye Ji barely managed to set down the Painting Knife as midnight approached.
So small it didn’t need to be viewed from a distance.
The painting, about two handspans across, was visible at a glance.
On the Canvas, facets carved with exquisite precision glimmered like a brilliant gem scattering light.
A diamond with a soft golden highlight.
The magnified scene, as if zoomed in closely, held an elegant beauty and splendor.
A sparkling gem with a soft golden tint, filling the square Canvas completely.
“…….”
She’d meant to wrap up here.
But Ye Ji ended up not leaving the Studio and began rummaging through the materials she had on hand.
The brilliance acquired through patient honing, carved and refined harshly over long years.
Ye Ji thought that’s how her artistic direction was.
It was in the same vein as what she’d thought during class earlier.
She wouldn’t be swayed by others’ gazes, but she couldn’t escape their judgment either.
All of that would sometimes sharpen and sometimes roughen her, polishing her edge.
‘But unless you believe in yourself as raw material, you can never become a gem.’
If one accepted it on terms fitting oneself, unparalleled brilliance would follow.
Ye Ji rummaged through various materials she had beyond just Paint.
Various kinds of Varnish, Medium, even Resin.
Ye Ji knew well that an artist couldn’t materialize everything with mere technique and imagination.
Different materials possessed different properties.
“Which one….”
would work best.
This time, Ye Ji was working not with a brush but with a Painting Knife.
Even if Han Sung digitalized Ye Ji’s Impasto technique with their technology, the rough brushstroke would create a sense of incongruity.
The Mobile Phone itself had a smooth screen and body, which couldn’t represent that texture.
One could theoretically recreate the texture on the exterior and express the brushstroke on the Mobile Phone itself.
‘How many people these days use their phones without a case anyway.’
There was a high chance the public would reject it for practical reasons.
This wasn’t work for self-satisfaction.
It was art for the product, for appeal to the masses.
So using the smooth surface by making use of the product’s characteristics was most appropriate.
That’s why the Painting Knife was chosen as the tool.
Mixing dozens of shades and tones of Paint, Ye Ji recreated the strange hues of raw gems found in nature.
Like Facet-Cut gems, she gave depth through countless facets and planes.
‘I’ll call it here for today.’
Having finished preparations for the next phase of work, Ye Ji finally left the Studio.
Since the size was small, as long as she considered drying time well, it wouldn’t take long to complete the sketch.
Ye Ji forced her reluctant feet to turn toward home.
***
Spring was passing quickly.
Even as spring grew shorter, flowers bloomed in their own ways, and the city was painted in shades of pink.
Im Seo An, Han Sung’s lead product designer, headed to the office, dragging accumulating fatigue.
Regardless of the beautiful spring blossoms, she hadn’t managed to leave work for the third consecutive day.
‘No matter how much the company feeds and houses you, this is a bit much, isn’t it.’
The moment final design confirmation for the new product ahead of fall release ended, checks for a Collaboration edition product began.
The Collaboration that most kept her working late into the night was with one artist.
Goyo, was it.
If only it had been a Collaboration with Celian instead—between companies, it would’ve been easier.
An independent artist, one barely rising in prominence no less.
Considering the product manufacturing timeline, she needed to finalize the design as quickly as possible.
Only because word came that sketches would arrive faster than expected was she trudging through this morning in the office.
The moment this came in, she’d give confirmation and finally, finally go home.
She’d clearly said she’d send an email this morning.
‘If it’s late, I’m not letting it slide….’
Gritting her teeth as she opened the office door, her team member’s voice came immediately.
“Oh, Team Lead! The Director said Goyo probably sent an email, so check that first, please.”
Seo An, entering with hundreds of complaints bottled inside, naturally wore a poor expression.
Only the news that the email had arrived early gave her expression slight relief.
Just check this and go home!
Finally home!
With just that thought, the recovered Seo An sat down at her desk.
The marketing side had been making an unusual fuss about recruitment this time—what on earth….
“…….”
Click.
One click, and a single image filled the screen.
Nothing but a sketch, after all.
Not a completed work—more like a proposal shot on a Mobile Phone.
“…….”
Seo An, who’d harbored no expectations whatsoever, suddenly sat up straighter.
When Seo An, who’d been ready to announce tasks complete and clock out, suddenly straightened, a strange tension filled the office.
“……Why? Team Lead? Are there lots of things to fix?”
At her team member’s question, Seo An only kept reviewing what had been sent.
The expression worn by Seo An—muddled with irritation, fatigue, and all manner of emotion—gradually shifted to neutral.
It meant she was concentrating.
‘……No way.’
What had arrived from Goyo wasn’t merely a single sketch.
Starting from the intent behind the concept through to the advantages when implementing it as a product.
And it even included ideas for special packaging.
“There definitely was a reason for pushing this.”
Kwon Jae Hyun, the marketing executive.
His stubborn recruitment had succeeded because of his track record.
One doesn’t lightly dismiss the insistence of someone with an eye for talent.
And proving that insistence, Goyo’s submitted work was flawless.
While not every detail was visible in the photograph, the symphony of Paint stacked as if carved with exquisite precision was beautiful.
Seo An adjusted the monitor’s angle to examine the work more carefully.
“……This isn’t ordinary.”
With a soft laugh, Seo An picked up her Mobile Phone before replying to the email.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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