The Reborn Genius of an Arts High School - Chapter 29

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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 29.
Led by the Curator, the visitors moved to the Separate Building.
Everyone arrived brimming with expectation, but what followed was a series of rather ordinary and tedious explanations.
The fault lay in how much Ye-ji’s work had raised their hopes.
“It’s not quite….”
“…ahem….”
As one uninspiring work followed another, the crowd began to exchange glances of disappointment.
By the time the Separate Building’s docent tour ended, the attendance had already dwindled by half.
Ye-ji, who had followed along out of politeness to the very end, found the visitors’ reaction disturbingly cold.
“Still, it’s not bad at this level.”
The heavy mood in the Separate Building seemed to multiply Han-gyu’s worries.
The students’ skill level wasn’t truly the problem.
The real issue was that Ye-ji’s work, shown first, had simply been too brilliant.
“Should’ve made your turn last.”
I misjudged this.
At Han-gyu’s lament, Ye-ji offered a bitter smile.
Of course, she had no obligation to concern herself with their work.
But for courtesy’s sake, she decided to hold back her joy in his presence.
Having moved to a different spot to catch the visitors’ reactions more vividly, Ye-ji made her way back to her own work.
“Oh, Ye-ji!”
There she found Ji-min, who had arrived late.
And accompanying her was her mother, whom Ye-ji had heard mentioned before.
“It’s nice to see you.”
“Hello. I’ve heard much about you.”
As Ye-ji shook hands with Ji-min’s mother,
Ji-min gazed at Ye-ji’s work covering the wall in admiration.
“This is killer work. So you’re not the type to talk yourself up?”
Ji-min’s blunt words sent Ye-ji’s already buoyant mood soaring even higher.
Being recognized proved even more joyful than being anticipated.
And purely through the work itself.
The moment of receiving recognition and admiration was utterly satisfying.
Moreover, at this moment, there was no need to feign indifference.
“Of course. So, as promised, pick whichever pieces you like.”
At Ye-ji’s words, Ji-min regarded the work with a gleeful expression.
To take four pieces from here….
Toward the deliberating Ji-min, her mother gestured.
The mother and daughter whispered something to each other and then spoke as if they’d decided.
“Actually, we’d like to get more pieces. We’re thinking of taking the four you promised, and then perhaps purchasing several others as well. You did plan to sell them, right?”
When Ye-ji nodded at Ji-min’s words, the two began discussing eagerly.
Should they buy five more pieces to complete nine?
Or perhaps purchase an entire season?
The sight of mother and daughter mulling over which of her pieces to own made Ye-ji happy, even if just in word.
“I’m drawn to that autumn. Those reeds we saw together the first time. That part right there.”
She had presented work fine enough not to detract from such an excellent space.
Moreover, the viewers themselves recognized its value, which was compensation enough for Ye-ji.
“Thank you. In any case, please choose freely. You don’t have to purchase more if you’d prefer not to.”
The moment Ye-ji said this,
someone from behind gently tapped her shoulder.
“Um, artist….”
It was the Curator.
And she wore an extremely troubled expression.
Ye-ji, who had been elated just moments before, turned to look at her in surprise.
“What’s wrong?”
“Well, you see….”
Was there anything more frightening than the look of an flustered adult?
Moreover, behind that pale and drained Curator stood three people.
“I’ll take winter.”
So said Jung Hae-yun, suddenly,
“And if I may, could I purchase summer?”
And a middle-aged stranger speaking in that manner.
Fortunately, it seemed to be merely a straightforward purchase inquiry.
Even Ji-min, listening to the exchange, chimed in with one more thing.
“Then I’ll buy autumn. All of the autumn section! As a complete set!”
None of them wanted the same season, yet the Curator’s expression remained grave.
“Since you were planning to sell these pieces anyway, I don’t see how there’s a problem?”
Ye-ji tilted her head in confusion.
Then the Curator carefully gestured to the remaining person.
“I’d like to purchase the entire body of work. Rather than parceling it out, wouldn’t that be better for you as well, artist?”
It was Shin Myung-hee, chair of SS Group, whose words had triggered this crisis.
***
“Please, have some tea.”
In the conference room set up in Seo Hwa Won’s office,
the Curator left only tea on the table before fleeing the awkward atmosphere.
Four buyers sat at the table facing Ye-ji.
“Ahem!”
Jung Hae-yun let out an ostentatious, displeased cough.
“There’s such a thing as commercial ethics, you know. How can a person be so greedy? Did I not tell you I was buying just one season because I don’t have unlimited funds?”
The moment the Curator stepped away,
Hae-yun fired at Myung-hee.
But Myung-hee, well acquainted with the temperament of this meticulous master, showed no sign of displeasure whatsoever.
“Art doesn’t sell based on morality, does it?”
Myung-hee said, gracefully raising her teacup.
“Who collects a work of art is itself a considerable source of value. You know this well.”
Her tone was mild, yet she spoke with the subtle edge one would expect from a major conglomerate chair.
“I’m not sure who’s being greedy over a young student’s future.”
She laughed lightly, but her open psychological sparring left Ye-ji silently horrified.
“Before that, I’ve already made a promise with Ye-ji.”
Ji-min, observing the situation, stepped forward to assert her claim to the work.
Upon hearing Ji-min’s words, Myung-hee nodded and set down her teacup.
“Ah, yes, there are such customs.”
But Myung-hee remained firm.
“However, once a work sells, isn’t it customary to move on to the next piece instead?”
She seemed resolved to purchase Ye-ji’s work no matter what happened.
Fearing the adults might actually come to blows, Ye-ji hurried to intervene.
“Wait, just a moment!”
If we’re being purely mercenary about it, a work purchased by the chair of SS Group
might carry certain prestige.
But Ye-ji didn’t want to resolve the situation that way.
This work was, for her, something of a challenge.
A work only I could do.
“First, thank you all for showing interest in my work. And for recognizing its value.”
Ye-ji expressed her gratitude to those gathered to possess her pieces.
This work hadn’t been created simply to earn money.
It was for those who’d taken interest in her art and offered support.
Since it was an opportunity gained through their help,
she’d wanted to demonstrate the greatest potential she could achieve.
“So, in my view,
Ye-ji sought understanding from Myung-hee, who harbored inexplicable goodwill toward her.
“I think it would be best to sell this work by season to those who wish for each.”
Ye-ji anticipated the chair would voice disapproval.
But surprisingly, the chair smiled warmly at Ye-ji and asked in return,
“If that’s what you’d prefer, then that’s what we should do. But if you don’t mind, could I hear your reasoning?”
Regardless of being a corporate chair, the sale of artwork falls within the artist’s personal authority.
Myung-hee continued calmly.
“Of course, if you’d rather not share, you needn’t.”
Myung-hee’s tone toward Ye-ji seemed considerate.
An entirely different demeanor from the way she addressed the other adults.
Because Myung-hee had shown her kindness, Ye-ji decided to answer her question.
‘And after all, it’s someone who showed this much interest in my work.’

Not simply because she was a socially influential person.
Ye-ji added her explanation as gratitude for the interest shown in her work.
“This is my first work for sale. I want to sell it to those who recognize the value in it.”
So the chair’s best option was to purchase only ‘spring,’ which no one else had chosen.
At Ye-ji’s words, Myung-hee maintained her light smile.
With a particular weightiness but a gentle atmosphere, Myung-hee asked again,
“So you mean you want to sell to a variety of people who recognize its value?”
“Not exactly.”
She hesitated, wondering whether to say this, but ultimately Ye-ji opened her mouth again.
“It seemed to me that you didn’t simply love my work and wish to purchase all of it.”
Perhaps, because Myung-hee herself was a chair with ample funds,
she seemed to think that since she was buying anyway, buying everything would be preferable, regardless of artistic merit.
That blanket determination to buy it all seemed somewhat unnatural.
“Hmm….”
Upon hearing Ye-ji’s words, Myung-hee nodded slowly.
Fortunately, her expression showed no displeasure.
If anything, her eyes brightened with intrigue as she fixed her gaze on Ye-ji.
“So you’re saying you’ll sell me just one season?”
“Well, there’s also the reason you mentioned.”
As Ye-ji added this, Myung-hee burst into laughter.
Watching her, Hae-yun spoke tersely.
“Are we done now? At this rate, buying one painting will take all day because of you.”
Myung-hee matched Hae-yun’s sharp tone without backing down.
“I might want to have a conversation with our artist too. Are you trying to take credit for discovering this jewel?”
Now that she thought about it, Hae-yun and Myung-hee’s acquaintance seemed quite long-standing.
Myung-hee’s retorts appeared less like psychological warfare and more like playful teasing of a complaining Hae-yun.
“Then, shall we wrap this up?”
Once the situation seemed settled, Ji-min stood and went to fetch the Curator, who had absented herself.
The pricing went smoothly since Ye-ji had already determined it beforehand.
The Curator, having guided the contract signing, concluded the matter.
“The works will be transported to your preferred locations after the exhibition closes.”
Now it was all finished.
Somehow, Ye-ji found this whole process more draining than painting itself.
Everyone seemed ready to stand, so Ye-ji grabbed her coat as well.
Just as she was about to leave the conference room, the man who’d purchased summer handed Ye-ji his business card.
“Thank you for making such a good decision. I’m Park Sung-soo.”
“Thank you as well for viewing the work so favorably.”
How would she know who he was from a name alone?
Ye-ji shook his hand and accepted the card.
Ji-min, about to stand and follow Ye-ji, suddenly interjected.
“Sung-soo?! You mean… the Sung-soo from the Mirok Gallery in New York?”
“The photographer Sung-soo?”
Was he someone famous?
Upon hearing Ji-min’s voice, Hae-yun, who had been talking with Myung-hee, added a remark.
When Hae-yun and Ji-min acknowledged him, Sung-soo offered an embarrassed smile and passed his card to them as well.
“I’m Park Sung-soo, a photographer currently active in New York.”
After introducing himself lightly, Sung-soo bowed slightly and added,
“I’d be grateful if you could reach out to me at your convenience.”
Was he shy?
After finishing his words, he nearly fled the conference room to avoid attention.
“I should chase after him and have a word. Thanks for the piece. Ye-ji! See you next time!”
Clutching Sung-soo’s business card tightly, Ji-min hurried after him in a flurry.
He really did seem to be a famous artist.
‘I should look him up.’
Thinking the same, Ye-ji also bid farewell to Hae-yun and Myung-hee and rose to leave.
But as she was about to bow, Myung-hee called her back.
“Artist, is there any chance I could ask you for one favor?”
A favor?
“Would you take a commission request for one piece?”

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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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