The Reborn Genius of an Arts High School - Chapter 125

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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 125.
Ye Ji laughed softly at Seo An’s question.
The result spoke for itself—more than satisfactory.
“Yes, absolutely. I was actually surprised—it came out exactly as planned.”
She found herself genuinely curious what kind of response would come once this launched.
At her answer, Seo An exhaled visibly with relief.
“Then I’ll get back to you with a perfect prototype before launch.”
Right now, only the shell was finished.
The software and testing still weren’t complete, so the interior remained hollow.
Only then did Ye Ji realize how much lighter the product was than expected, and she tucked it back into the packaging.
Seo An, hurrying to gather her things, spoke in an animated voice.
“You can have high hopes!”
Though Ye Ji nodded along with her words, she herself wasn’t exactly the patient type.
Having to wait again felt a bit tedious.
Would the public feel the same way she did?
Would they see and feel the same landscape she did this time?
The waiting would be a blend of worry and anticipation.
***
As for her work with Hanseong, there was nothing left for her to do.
But it wasn’t a tedious stretch of waiting time.
This was precisely when Ye Ji needed to begin preparing her work for Blank in earnest.
The thematic consciousness she wove into her pieces was deeply personal.
Yet it was also a universal emotion everyone could feel.
The hope that things would improve, no matter what came.
The quiet anticipation woven into each passing day of ordinary life.
Moreover, Ye Ji never expressed such feelings modestly.
Her careful rendering and color harmonies made the work never grow tired, no matter how long you gazed at it.
……
Ye Ji understood her own expressiveness and intent very well.
On the prepared canvas, she drew two large circles.
The infinite possibility of the individual—she’d already explored it in countless ways through the medium of water.
Moving between daily life and nature, she could say she’d spoken her mind freely.
So now it was time for the next phase of work.
She’d revealed possibility and shown its boundlessness; now came the turn to prove it.
Just as she had in her collaboration with Hanseong, Ye Ji decided to paint jewels this time.
It was the perfect medium to express that intent, and she intended to make this work magnificently ornate.
More striking than any other work, more brilliant than any artist’s piece.
She meant to display her carefully honed talent without restraint or compromise.
“Wait, no. The left one should be smaller, shouldn’t it?”
But capturing the perfect proportions of an object as finely faceted as a gem was no simple task.
Da Hye, checking the balance Ye Ji had gauged by eye, offered correction.
With college entrance exams just around the corner, she’d come by recently to receive feedback on her portfolio and its revisions.
“Like this?”
Ye Ji adjusted the proportions carefully, and Da Hye nodded at the question.
With eyes as precise as any machine, Da Hye was faster than Ye Ji would have been measuring obsessively with a ruler.
Where Da Hye instinctively calculated the most beautiful proportions, Ye Ji worked from experience.
The experience of two lifetimes.
After hundreds, thousands of repetitions, good proportions had become habit—written into her eyes and hands.
Once the two had discussed the work a bit, they began examining the portfolio.
Da Hye spread twenty pieces across the floor and exhaled with a sigh carrying complicated feelings.
Works drawn with perfect ratios and calculation, true to her nature.
The most famous artist pursuing this aesthetic was Mondrian.
Mere collections of shapes and color, yet they made viewers feel beauty.
A style that could be called Neoplasticism.
“I’m worried it’s too safe….”
Da Hye offered her own evaluation of her work.
Her words were accurate—they were cleanly, inoffensively well-executed.
But touching them carelessly would easily result in something neither one thing nor another.
“You’re still a student. It proves you’ve grasped the fundamentals. Can’t you fill in the potential through your artist statement or portfolio notes?”
At Ye Ji’s words, Da Hye groaned oddly and promptly sprawled out on the studio floor.
“You sound exactly like my tutor. But listen—”
Da Hye grumbled in a whining tone, but she continued speaking without pause.
It sounded like the core of her artist statement.
“Through Hard Edge Technique and color division with perfectly calculated Tessellation….”
A string of technical jargon followed, but it went in one of Ye Ji’s ears and out the other.
It was a quirk of people in the industry—using unnecessarily difficult terminology to make things hard to understand.
She’d just strung together impressive-sounding words.
Ultimately, it boiled down to: she knew how to calculate geometric patterns mathematically and draw them neatly and prettily.
“The question is whether to go Neo Geo or lean more Op Art….”
“Wait, hold on.”
Ye Ji finally cut her off.
“Did your teacher think that was okay?”
It seemed to Ye Ji that Da Hye was missing the point entirely.
The philosophy of art differed markedly between domestic and international standards.
At home, it was about drawing well, being intelligent, and following the prescribed path.
Abroad, the key was whether you could express your inner creativity.
“…He did ask me to revise it.”
Da Hye had grown up in Korea her whole life, so there was a tendency to emphasize showing off her knowledge.
But no matter how well you’d learned, without something uniquely yours within it, it was just imitation.
She needed something that set her apart from others.
“I think just showing you know those terms is enough. First, you need to think about what you actually want to draw with this.”
What did you want to draw….
Da Hye fell silent in thought at Ye Ji’s words.
“For now, your portfolio definitely shows you have skill.”
Ye Ji jotted down the parts she thought could be refined.
Da Hye remained lost in thought the whole time.
After a long silence, Da Hye murmured quietly.
“I think that’s actually the hardest part.”
Wanting to make art for a living.
But what kind of art did you want to make?
Finding the reason and context for her own thoughts was difficult.
“Isn’t just wanting to draw enough?”
At Da Hye’s question, Ye Ji let out a short sigh.
Senior Hyun A had wrestled with similar concerns last year.
Though Da Hye had certainly grasped a more concrete direction than Hyun A had.
And even Hyun A, who’d wandered so much back then, had successfully gotten into a good university this year.
Ye Ji hadn’t reached out directly, but from social media it looked like she was enjoying her college life.
Remembering Hyun A, Ye Ji empathized with Da Hye’s concern.
“Really, when you think about it, everyone carries the same question—just at different depths.”
It seemed like homework everyone bore for life, not just third-year high school students.
Just as she said, everyone differed only in degree and depth.
Ye Ji herself simply wished to reveal herself through painting and connect with others.
Why painting specifically—she couldn’t explain that.
Only that, being human.
She lived each day seeking answers as she went.
“Besides, not everything needs a grand reason.”
Just the small joys felt each day of living.
Those things could be the very engine and reason for painting.
The feeling of quilts and pillowcases pulled on each night.
The taste of coffee habitually drunk upon waking.
Short videos scrolling mindlessly across a mobile phone screen.
Light web novels or webtoons clicked almost unconsciously, drawn by appealing titles and covers.
In the monotonous daily life we drag ourselves through, we make surprisingly many choices based on preference.
We just don’t notice it in those small moments.
Why we feel certain emotions in certain situations.
There might be reasons behind all of it.
Watching Da Hye check the time for her next tutoring session, Ye Ji smiled wryly.
For all her complaints, Da Hye always got through every planned commitment.
More precisely, she was the type whose personality demanded she complete things that way.
“Maybe calculated lines and plans give you a sense of stability like a regular life—and that’s why you want to paint this way.”
The regularity of each brushstroke had become part of daily life.
That was Da Hye’s identity, the direction her taste created.
“You’ll do well.”
Da Hye would find her answer.
Even imperfectly, the journey of finding answers would be enough to convey through words.
At Ye Ji’s words, Da Hye bolted upright.
“Yeah! Of course! Why couldn’t I?”
It was unfounded confidence, but sometimes that was what you needed.
We’re still at the age of seeking our ground.
“Yeah, you’ve got this.”
Ye Ji laughed at Da Hye’s newfound energy and turned her gaze back to her own work.
***
By then, Korea’s temperature had risen considerably, and summer had arrived.
Emma, who’d savored Korea’s pleasant season, had reached the end of her business trip.
Once her vacation ended, she’d have to return to New York.
Because she’d combined vacation and business trip, she’d gotten to spend a long stretch in Korea.
“Please don’t leave us….”
The Blank Seoul branch director, surrounded by a towering stack of coffee cups, was practically wilting as she spoke.
At the mix of sincerity and playfulness in her words, Emma chuckled.
The atmosphere the Seoul and New York galleries pursued was clearly different just from looking at the two women.
A typical career woman. Neat and composed in image.
That was the Seoul director’s vibe—Emma was the opposite.
So free-spirited it bordered on raw, strikingly individual.
“Unfortunately, my help ends here.”
From here on, you’ll have to do it yourself without crying.
At Emma’s words, the Seoul director sighed like the earth was swallowing her.
“Right. I have to do it. I absolutely have to….”
Prestigious sponsors and dozens of artists putting their lives on the line for this opportunity.
It was a project where both money and hearts were significant.
Before the artworks arrived, she had to finish all the publicity and peripheral preparations.
The Seoul director quickly gathered herself and got back to work.
“Well then, I’ll see you again next time!”
Emma left a cheerful parting greeting and exited the gallery.
Her promised work here was done.
She’d met all the people she needed to see and handled everything she had to in Korea—no lingering regrets.
Except for one thing.
“But I can’t leave with unfinished business~”
Emma murmured to herself, then immediately pulled out her mobile phone and called someone.
“Hey, Ye Ji! How’ve you been?”

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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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