The Reborn Genius of an Arts High School - Chapter 24

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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 24.
“Ah, so that’s the reason. Hmm…. You’re right, that does make sense.”
Ji Min, who had laughed at Ye Ji’s counter-proposal, fell into thought.
But her hesitation was brief.
“Fine. Let’s do it that way. But in exchange, could I pick out those four pieces myself when I see them at the exhibition?”
Could that be a problem?
When she glanced at Han Gyu, he nodded.
“I’ll mention it to the director beforehand.”
“Then I have no objections either. Let’s do it that way.”
Once Ye Ji gave her approval, Ji Min broke into a bright smile.
“Great. Deal.”
When Ji Min extended her hand again for a handshake, Ye Ji clasped it firmly.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
With that cheerful remark, Ji Min handed over some of the canvases she had prepared in advance.
The rest would be manufactured and delivered to Ye Ji’s home later.
Good viewing, good materials—everything could be settled at once.
Thanks to Han Gyu, Ye Ji felt pleased to have sourced the materials so smoothly.
And more than mere words of recognition, this was tangible support.
Ye Ji recalled the moment when Ji Min had examined her work.
“Does the director work with art herself?”
“No, nothing like that.”
As Han Gyu drove her home,
when Ye Ji posed the question gently, he answered quite thoroughly, as if he’d been waiting for it.
Understanding art as excellent didn’t require a professional’s eye.
Tastes differ, of course, but ultimately people’s vision tends to be the same.
“She only invests in artists whose work strikes even someone like her—an outsider—as clearly exceptional.”
Those with talent but no opportunity to use it.
What immense meaning did people like Ji Min hold for such people?
“I don’t know much about it myself, but it seems connected to her mother’s side somehow.”
At Han Gyu’s additional explanation, Ye Ji nodded.
Ji Min herself had mentioned it in that way.
Suddenly, Ye Ji recalled Ji Min’s callused hands.
She wasn’t the sort to earn money so easily.
Though she was a director with employees, she was no mere manager.
From the sawdust-covered work clothes she wore, it was clear she still did carpentry herself.
Yet she enjoyed art in her own way.
No matter how cold the world became, people who held onto romance still remained.
They were simply harder to find.
Somewhere, someone lived, supporting art in their own way.
“Since you’re still a student, I thought you two should get to know each other—figured it’d benefit you both.”
Introducing the two to each other seemed to be part of Han Gyu’s purpose.
In the car, parked in front of her home, Ye Ji bowed her head slightly.
“Thank you for your consideration.”
“Just focus on preparing for the exhibition. If you embarrass your teacher, I’ll be in trouble too.”
At Han Gyu’s half-joking, half-serious warning, Ye Ji laughed in response.
As she stepped out of the car, smiling as if to say there was nothing to worry about, Han Gyu added one more thing.
“Who knows?”
If you impress Ji Min with this exhibition, you might never have to worry about sourcing canvas again.
His words felt worth more than gold to Ye Ji.
Beyond mere money, having access to materials whenever needed was quite significant.
The freedom to work without worrying about supplies!
“Don’t worry. When I commit to something, I do it properly.”
With confident words, Ye Ji returned home with her arms full of plywood, her heart brimming with anticipation.
With no separate studio, Ye Ji had no choice but to work at home.
The workspace was impossibly small, but it didn’t matter much.
Small pieces would gather into something grand anyway.
As long as they fit together seamlessly, that was all.
“Hmm….”
Ye Ji first laid out a large sheet of drawing paper in her room.
For multiple pieces to come together harmoniously, planning was essential.
On the large sheet, she drew out exactly 250 square cells in her planned layout.
Materials and circumstances were both ready.
Now she just had to bring her imagination to life.
Ye Ji began her sketch, taking the images that floated in her mind and giving them form.
***
The Curator at Seohwa Gallery was quite busy.
It was natural—Seo Tae, the director, was someone with clear goals.
For a good exhibition, he didn’t hesitate to work himself; what more could be expected?
Particularly now, with Hae Yun’s inaugural exhibition just three weeks away.
There was plenty left to prepare.
“Emails are all sent….”
With the most important exhibition promotion finally wrapped up, the Curator took a breath.
Now it was just a matter of handling the internal details without mistake.
This exhibition wasn’t showing only Hae Yun’s work.
His students and various emerging artists he had mentored would have their pieces filling the Annex as well.
In that sense, there was quite a lot to manage.
“The captions too….”
I need to make those….
To keep track without forgetting, the Curator muttered his tasks aloud as a habit.
Still, the fact that Hae Yun was such a meticulous artist was a blessing in disguise for the work.
Thanks to him being the centerpiece, all materials had arrived well ahead of time.
Given the occupational nature of working with such free-spirited artists,
it was rare to receive requested documents or materials on schedule.
But this time, everything arrived exactly when requested.
“Na Mi-rae… shell inlay work….”
Artist name, materials, artwork title.
And artwork dimensions too.
Without any typos or mistakes, formatted consistently, the Curator verified each entry one by one.
The captions—labels that would be attached to the exhibition wall—had to be absolutely accurate.
Careful review beforehand was necessary, and any questionable items needed verification before moving forward.
As the Curator reviewed the students’ work descriptions without issue, one separate entry caught his eye.
“This one.”
One artwork coming into the Main Hall aside from Hae Yun’s pieces.
He’d vaguely remembered it mentioned in the meeting, but it seemed unusual.
“Ye Ji….”
The artist’s name was unfamiliar.
Who was she, and why had Hae Yun allowed her work to hang in the Main Hall alongside his?
He’d hoped reference photos had been included, but unfortunately only the requested information was there.
“Four Seasons.”
The fairly broad artwork title was nothing special.
But the details underneath left a lingering question.
The materials description—birch plywood plus various mixed media—was simple yet unusual.
What exactly was she using, and in what variety, to describe it that way?
The confusion only deepened as he read further.
“15.8 by 15.8 centimeters…. Polyptych Series Work…?”
A polyptych?
Each piece meaningful in itself, but multiple works that connect to one another.
But in such a small size? A series work?
‘Normally….’
Of course, many contemporary artists employed this approach when they wanted large work but faced practical constraints—that much was common.
Once a single side exceeded two meters, manufacturing the canvas alone became difficult, let alone transport.
Usually, for practical compromise, artists would join canvases of 100 or larger sizes to create large-scale work.
But one couldn’t simply dismiss a series of hand-sized pieces.
“Arranged 25 by 10….”
25 across, 10 down, to be joined together.
So that meant… 250 works?
The Curator removed his glasses entirely and even applied artificial tears to his weary eyes.
Looking back at the monitor with clearer vision, the information remained unchanged.
“Ye Ji…?”
Ye Ji, Ye Ji.
No matter how many times he turned the name over in his mind, there was no such artist among recent names he’d heard.
There was no way a rookie would suddenly take on such an absurd scale.
So whether the name had a typo or the work description did—
something was clearly wrong.
The Curator reached for his phone immediately.
“Hello, I had something I needed to confirm….”
The Curator called Han Gyu.
When Han Gyu picked up, he asked first.
“This is about artist Ye Ji’s work, right?”
“Ah, yes…. That’s right. It’s about Master Ye Ji’s work.”
At Han Gyu’s question, the Curator answered weakly.
So at least the name wasn’t wrong.
“The details seem off. The artwork size and arrangement here look a bit strange.”
To the Curator’s remark, as if Han Gyu had expected to be asked again, he laughed softly and said the information was correct.
“You’re going to have quite a time installing it. I appreciate your help.”
“Ah, yes, yes…. Yes…. I understand.”
After ending the call with Han Gyu, the Curator stared blankly at the monitor.
…My goodness.
He had to hang 250 works as a series?
“……I’m going to need to call at least two more installation technicians.”
If the artist is bringing work like that, what choice is there?
He’d have to hire more people.
Having set aside his questions at that point, the Curator turned his attention back to the remaining tasks.
‘But who exactly is Ye Ji, creating work like this?’
And to be exhibiting in the same building as Hae Yun, no less.
He made a mental note to definitely check her face at the opening.
***
“Why.”
Hae Yun asked briefly, watching Han Gyu end the call.
Ye Ji’s name being mentioned made him curious.
“Ah, well. Since Ye Ji’s work is so unusual, the Curator from Seohwa called to confirm.”
At Han Gyu’s answer, Hae Yun let out a soft scoff.
If materials were provided, one should just follow them.
“Worrying about odd details.”
“If something goes wrong later, it becomes a hassle.”
Han Gyu added, reminding him to consider the people doing the grunt work.
As if he had time to worry about such things.
Hae Yun set down his brush.
Just a few weeks. A girl, small as a puppy, had fidgeted for a while and then disappeared.
He was used to working alone in silence for a lifetime, so why did it feel oddly empty?
“That careless girl. She went up to Seoul without a single message.”
“……She sent a message yesterday…?”
It wasn’t as though there had been no contact at all.
Han Gyu added, but regardless, for Hae Yun it was the same as no contact.
Couldn’t a phone call at least count as real contact?
“These days young people don’t call much, sir. And she’s probably incredibly busy right now.”
Hae Yun had already heard about it.
That girl had fearlessly joined his exhibition and undertaken 250 works for a series.
Of course, given Ye Ji’s skill, it wouldn’t be impossible.
But if it wasn’t just a series, but pieces that actually connected to one another, that was a different matter.
Even the slightest misalignment in those seams would make viewers feel uncomfortable.
That being why most preferred to extend a large image in one direction.
That way, left-to-right or top-to-bottom—the image only had to connect in one direction.
But Ye Ji’s work gave no consideration to such ease.
Her square small pieces had to connect with different adjacent pieces on all four sides.
Like puzzle pieces.
“…Are you worried? Or are you looking forward to it?”
Both.
But Hae Yun didn’t answer, simply picking his brush back up curtly.
Three weeks until the exhibition.
With the semester starting soon, it was the point at which Ye Ji’s work needed to be substantially complete.

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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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