The Reborn Genius of an Arts High School - Chapter 48

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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 48.
Even when one task ends, the daily grind rolls endlessly forward.
Ye-ji had been rushing breathlessly since Monday morning’s restart.
‘I’m going to be late!’
The empty house—her parents already at work—had become familiar.
For a high school student who had to manage alone, nothing was harder than beating morning drowsiness.
Without time to dry her dripping hair, she pushed her way into an already packed bus.
Inside the crowded vehicle, irritation and urgency mingled thick.
While the bus’s stale air-conditioning barely cooled her sweat, the school came into view.
“Driver, let me off here!”
“Just open the door! Hurry, hurry!”
Students who couldn’t contain their impatience shouted without waiting for the red light to change.
Before the bus even reached the stop, Cheongrim Arts High School students poured out through the opening doors.
All of them raced in one direction, sprinting up the slope.
The day when summer heat was beginning in earnest as June’s end approached.
The bright blue sky heavy with cumulus clouds at least blocked the sun’s full glare.
Foliage dotted across the campus blazed dark green, and students raced along their shadows.
As Ye-ji ran among them, a foreign sports car passed by her side.
‘…Déjà vu?’
A strange sense of familiarity made Ye-ji hesitate.
There had been a day just like this before, or so it felt.
The difference this time was—
“Whoa.”
“What?”
—that the vehicle passing through was a garishly fluorescent sports car, flashy enough to draw murmurs from everyone nearby.
She turned her eyes away from the sports car roaring into the campus.
“Come on, move it! Everyone, hurry!”
The disciplinary teacher’s voice at the gate was rather harsh.
Not until Ye-ji crossed the school gates did she catch her breath.
Not quite peaceful, but ordinary life pressed on regardless.
***
“I’m drained already.”
This is killing me.
She’d run all morning and still managed to be late by mere seconds.
The tension released from finishing a big project.
Morning classes blurred past in a rush, and only when lunch arrived could Ye-ji catch her breath.
“You’ve had it rough. Really rough.”
At Ye-ji’s drained state, Da-hye clicked her tongue sympathetically.
Ye-ji shrugged at Da-hye’s remark.
“Ambition opens the door to hardship.”
Human desire is subjective.
Ye-ji’s heart was full of longing to show many works to many people, no matter what anyone said.
That desire had always been her first priority, unchanged.
But to win recognition from all those people, certain things were inevitably necessary.
Things she’d overlooked in her past life, but understood now.
Money, knowledge, connections, social grace, and more besides.
Second and third priorities emerged, as long as they didn’t undermine the first.
“You’re sleeping properly, aren’t you?”
At Da-hye’s question, Ye-ji, meandering toward the cafeteria, laughed quietly.
Health was her second priority.
“Of course.”
Though squeezing exercise into her schedule was difficult.
So lately Ye-ji had taken to running.
To clear her head and exercise, she always walked or ran from the studio back home.
Her stamina had built up nicely.
The only problem was the days getting hotter….
‘…When it gets much hotter and summer break arrives, I’ll head to France.’
The second round of the youth competition held by Montrableu.
Ye-ji’s group was assigned to the second group, starting July 20th.
She could at least count herself fortunate to be there during the peak heat, perhaps?
“The weather is absolutely insane.”
“Why is it so hot from June these days?”
Complaints erupted everywhere as students headed to the cafeteria.
Many had already gone past summer uniforms and were practically wearing short-sleeve t-shirts instead of proper school uniforms.
Even in the well-air-conditioned private school, the hallways flooded with sunlight felt hot.
The two girls got in line normally and collected their food.
They loaded up on pork cutlet and spaghetti for lunch and claimed the prime spot under the air-conditioning.
“You’ll still be in France during the worst heat.”
With so many people talking about the weather, Da-hye apparently had the same thought.
Ye-ji nodded, and Da-hye spoke with a wistful tone.
“I wonder how nice the hotel the gallery provides will be.”
Before Da-hye’s hopeful words finished, Hyun-min sat down with his tray at the next seat.
“It probably won’t be that fancy.”
At Hyun-min’s dampening, Da-hye shot him a glare.
Ye-ji laughed quietly at her expression and nodded.
Plane tickets and hotel vouchers hadn’t arrived yet, so Ye-ji wasn’t letting herself hope either.
“It’s just standard accommodation they provide. Not top-tier luxury.”
“It might be nicer than expected! Can’t you at least hope?!”
Da-hye chided them both for their lack of romance.
As if that might be true—
“Anyway, didn’t you say you finished that painting for the chairman last week?”
Hyun-min casually asked Ye-ji.
When she nodded, Hyun-min quickly followed up.
“So what, you don’t have photos of the work or anything…?”
“Yes! That! So how much did you get paid? Did you really charge 100 per frame like back then?”
Before Hyun-min could even finish, Da-hye’s excited voice cut in.
That was probably what she was most curious about.
Of course, since Myung-hee had asked Ye-ji not to let anyone know about the work yet, answering Hyun-min directly was difficult.
In this case, it was more natural to answer Da-hye’s question instead.
“…Well, that’s what I originally planned to charge.”
In Korea, artworks by artists without established pricing are typically measured by per-frame cost.
Considering new artists usually average 2-30 per frame, Ye-ji’s 100-per-frame price was quite steep.
Besides, the work Ye-ji painted was a square format, 80 frame-units.
Usually a square painting’s frame size is determined by its shorter dimension.
While the F-size standard for 60 frames is 130.3 by 97 centimeters, a square is only 97 by 97 centimeters.
Even receiving the 60-frame price of 60 million won would have been considered quite generous.
“But?”
Da-hye pressed on Ye-ji’s suggestive trailing off.
Ye-ji held up two fingers.
“…Two? Just two?”
“Double.”
She clarified for Da-hye, who hadn’t immediately understood.
Double. 120 million won.
Ye-ji had received twice what she’d expected for the work.
This time there was no gallery taking a cut in the middle, so the only amount deducted would be taxes.
Ye-ji herself had been surprised at first.
In her own mind, the work easily deserved an even higher price.
But thinking from the buyer’s perspective, spending extra money carries special weight.
Even if it’s a wealthy tycoon.
“120 million… 120 million…”
Hyun-min observed Da-hye murmuring the amount and shifted the conversation.
“But the school’s been a bit unsettled lately.”
Beyond that—to spend that much money.
What kind of painting was it to provoke such a reaction?
Da-hye spoke as if she had no interest in the school being unsettled.
“What’s unsettled about it? Summer break’s coming soon anyway. But listen…”
But the question about the work didn’t continue.
Someone suddenly appeared, throwing their arms around Ye-ji from behind.
“I heard the school is preparing some kind of big event?”
It was Se-hee who’d abruptly joined in.
Inwardly relieved that the awkward question had been cut off, Ye-ji asked, “A big event? Exams start next week—what kind of event?”

Se-hee answered with a fresh expression.
Being well-versed in school affairs through the Broadcasting Club and other circles, she’d picked up plenty of gossip.
“Cheongrim does have its name among arts schools, but honestly, the reputation’s been slipping lately, right?”
Because of the arts school’s nature, attention shifted fairly quickly.
A school’s fame depends heavily on its current students.
No matter how famous the graduates, that fades with time.
Every year, new seventeen-year-olds need to be impressed—that’s an arts school’s struggle.
Outdated, stagnant methods fail to capture this generation’s interest.
Cheongrim especially, given its focus on classical arts like visual art, contemporary dance, and music.
“Idols and actors—media-friendly kids—end up hogging all the attention.”
In terms of artistic merit and talent, other fields don’t fall short at all.
But the reality was that popular appeal kept growing in value.
Classical genres, losing favor with mainstream audiences, saw their popularity slowly decline.
Cheongrim’s visual art department seeing highest enrollment in design tells you everything.
“…So what’s the school trying to do about it now?”
This was a problem everyone should recognize and grapple with together.
It wasn’t just a day or two’s worth of decline.
When Ye-ji asked, Se-hee naturally sat beside her.
She casually plucked a cherry tomato from Ye-ji’s salad and continued.
“So they’re saying they want to be more proactive—level up the top students differently, apparently.”
Se-hee reached for a tomato from Hyun-min’s salad too.
Hyun-min quickly tapped her finger with his chopsticks, lending credibility to what she said.
“Of course, there’s also the image problem to fix from last year’s Year-end Art Exhibition.”
Hyun-min continued.
“So now they’re talking about bringing in some trendy, worldly guest lecturers to lead outside instruction.”
Coming from the school’s well-connected students, she had no reason to doubt it.
The stagnating curriculum definitely needed that kind of fresh breeze.
The corruption and favoritism issues at last year’s exhibition had partly stemmed from relying on the same judges for consultation each time.
But Da-hye frowned as she listened.
“The school is actually pushing something like that?”
On the surface, it sounded admirable.
But a private school, sadly, was no charity.
At Da-hye’s question, Se-hee lowered her voice conspiratorially.
“Special Classes will apparently be set up in each department.”
Tiny elite classes.
There’d be accusations of favoritism and discrimination toward top students….
But the school probably wouldn’t give that much weight.
‘If it bothers you, do better yourself?’
That’s the kind of mood it would be.
“Naturally you’d be included in the visual art department, right~?”
Se-hee added playfully, but Ye-ji didn’t bother to correct her.
Her grades were good, her external achievements solid.
She’d naturally be included.
“Thanks for the heads-up.”
At Ye-ji’s thanks, Se-hee perked up like a praised puppy.
After Se-hee’s high-energy interruption wore everyone out, lunch ended and afternoon classes flowed as usual.
With her urgent work cleared, Ye-ji managed to relax a bit that afternoon.
As she thought about heading home early for some rest, her Homeroom Teacher gently called her over.
“Ye-ji, do you have a moment?”
The sudden summons to the office didn’t make Ye-ji nervous.
“You see, this time our school is creating Special Classes for top-tier students.”
It was exactly what Se-hee had mentioned.

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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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