The Reborn Genius of an Arts High School - Chapter 58

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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 58.
An unfinished longing, lingering still.
There it was, exactly as it had been left.
“…….”
Ye Ji felt her breath catch in her throat.
Like vertigo turned inside out, her stomach churned with sudden unease.
The work from her past life, now standing before her in the flesh.
When she faced the painting directly, she finally understood why she’d felt such reluctance and discomfort all this while.
That sudden unease was, surprisingly, shame.
‘Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of people have seen that painting….’
The work as it lived in her memory, viewed through the vision of that earlier self.
She’d thought she was prepared after seeing strangers’ photographs of it online, but facing the original brought a wholly different response crashing down.
If she could, she would ask right now to have the painting taken down.
Was it because her vision had been incomplete back then?
The visual distortion created an impression completely at odds with what she’d intended.
Though it did still carry a certain mysterious quality, she had to admit.
‘This is awful.’
The subtle color tones of the Impasto Technique—her specialty.
But examining the brushwork up close revealed something utterly different from what she’d envisioned and intended.
Moreover, the brushstrokes themselves felt hurried and rough in places.
She’d wondered whether her current skill had declined since then, but now she wondered if perhaps the opposite was true.
It was like now, but different.
Ye Ji felt heat flood her face.
She swallowed down the surge of emotion.
I’m not Catherine. Not her….
She nodded to herself, repeating those words.
‘…I was so desperate back then.’
But once she’d calmed slightly, she began to see things she’d missed.
The desperation she’d carried in those days, but woven through it—that strange, unwavering confidence, the refusal to lose hope.
That was Catherine’s true appeal as a painter.
“(It’s a good piece. I’ve never seen the artist’s name before.)”
Lost in thought, Ye Ji heard Ethan’s voice drift into her ears.
Probably not a name famous even among foreigners.
As she breathed slowly to steady herself, Ethan—noticing her subtle change in expression—asked a question.
‘(Do you know the artist?)’
Do you know the artist.
Ye Ji wondered if that phrasing even applied, and shook her head.
“The style is similar to someone I know.”
Ethan hadn’t done anything wrong, really.
She was simply too emotionally drained to be considerate of others.
So she’d answered him in Korean without thinking.
“…Mm.”
Her unusual demeanor was noticeable enough that those around her picked up on it.
“Go ahead and look at the pieces. I’ll grab us some cool drinks.”
At her father’s words, Ye Ji felt some composure return.
She hadn’t meant to be this shaken.
It seemed others had simply interpreted it as the impact of encountering an exceptional work.
Ethan gazed quietly at Catherine’s work for a moment.
Roughness and refinement.
Two qualities strangely interwoven in Catherine’s brushwork.
Though unintended, the subtle visual distortion likely contributed to the piece’s popularity.
“(You hate the painting?)”
“(Not that. Just wondering why they hung this one in particular.)”
As she answered, Ye Ji glanced sideways at Ethan.
He seemed to have something he wanted to say, but he opened and closed his mouth several times without speaking.
He furrowed his brow and muttered something under his breath.
“(Maybe I should have learned Korean….)”
She nearly asked what he meant.
It seemed he had something to convey but found it difficult in English.
After another moment spent looking at the work, Ethan managed to gather his thoughts.
“(Anyway, I think I understand why this piece is here.)”
This time, Ye Ji looked at him questioningly.
He shrugged.
“(Paintings aren’t seen with the eyes—they’re seen with the heart. Can’t you feel the heart in this one?)”
Listening to Ethan’s words, Ye Ji understood something.
Now that she thought about it, she’d never viewed this painting from a viewer’s perspective.
Even though she was no longer the one who’d created it, she remained trapped in the viewpoint of memory.
“(It’s beautiful yet desolate, lonely yet confident, gentle yet strong. These are the sentiments any artist should never forget.)”
At his words, Ye Ji turned her gaze back to the painting.
“(I’ve never seen this artist before, but I feel it. How desperately precious this painting must have been to this person. It’s the kind of work that makes you ache—you can feel those emotions so clearly.)”
Listening to Ethan’s critique, Ye Ji bit her lip hard.
Montrebleu was renowned, but not among the world’s top-tier galleries.
A stage for emerging talents just beginning to attract attention and eyes to their work.
The reason this painting had been kept hanging there all this time.
Listening to Ethan, Ye Ji finally grasped that reason.
“So that’s what it was….”
As she murmured this, Ethan pulled out his Mobile Phone and searched for something.
Glancing over, he seemed to be looking up Catherine’s other works.
For some reason, this made her feel awkward and embarrassed.
“(There are definitely better pieces, but this one must be here for a reason.)”
“……….”
At those words, Ye Ji’s heart sank even deeper.
Works created while pouring out her very soul in each moment, bleeding sincerity.
There had to be a reason why this unfinished piece reached more viewers than any other.
But that wasn’t the result she’d wanted.
What she’d wanted this work to express wasn’t that desperate, desolate emotion.
It was the bright hope she’d held despite everything.
Not all artworks need to be interpreted according to the artist’s intent, but her heart remained uneasy.
She didn’t want her past self—Catherine—to be remembered as someone who’d only frantically hungered for art.
As Ethan said, it was too sad a memory to bear.
But in any case, without Catherine herself intervening, the painting wouldn’t easily be taken down.
If she had to find a way, only one possibility came to mind.
‘Displace it. Hang something new.’
With art itself as the answer.
Now that she understood Montrebleu’s attachment to and reason for displaying this work, that was enough.
Somehow, she’d draw the Curator’s eye to herself with the art she’d truly meant to show.
Her painting would hang in this space.
Not Catherine’s. Ye Ji’s.
She felt certain that doing so would let her make a complete farewell to old memories and lingering attachments.
***
Marc, the director of Montrebleu, kept a busy schedule.
Stepping out of his car at a traffic intersection, Marc looked up at his gallery.
A gallery inherited from his family.
Growing it from a small business barely maintaining its expenses into what it was now—that was his doing.
He continued to discover new artists to expand further still.
Marc wasn’t someone who created art himself, but he had a keen eye for it.
The moment he returned to the gallery after finishing external business, the Curator rushed over as if waiting for him and began her report.
He was handling things while moving around, so busy was this particular period.
“The first group’s work for the Youth Art Competition was successfully completed today.”
The Second Round Judging for the Youth Art Competition.
Half of the work had been completed today.
“All the students from the second group have arrived safely in Paris and are on standby.”
The second group’s work would begin in two days.
“Some of the first group’s students plan to remain until the completion of the Second Round Judging.”
This necessitated visa requirements in certain cases.
And where there had been requests for additional assistance.
Listening to the endless flow of reports, Marc entered the gallery.
Many staff members greeted him, and a few visitors recognized him as well.
A gallery profits by exhibiting and selling artworks.
Using its Exhibition Hall and partial space for a competition like this was rare.
Most commercial galleries didn’t do such a thing.
Yet Marc maintained this loss-making venture because he had his own philosophy.
A place that brought fresh winds to the art world.
He wanted Montrebleu to remain firmly established in that position.
Even at a financial loss, it was invaluable work for someone like Marc.
“What about that student?”
Though Marc’s phrasing was vague, the Curator understood immediately.
“You mean Ye Ji from Korea, correct? She’s also entered the country without issue and is on standby….”
The Curator had memorized all the students’ basic information.
Faces had been learned in advance for purposes of identification and passport checks.
The Curator had paused upon seeing a familiar face in the Cafeteria.
“…She’s right there, actually?”
At the Curator’s words, Marc stopped his brisk movement.
Turning his head toward where her gaze was directed, he saw a small-framed East Asian girl.
The girl’s eyes were fixed, unblinking, on Catherine’s Work.
“…….”
Seeing Marc’s reaction, the Curator tilted her head uncertainly.
As a Curator, she admittedly couldn’t sense anything particularly distinctive about this East Asian girl named Ye Ji.
Of course, she could recognize that she was a talented painter with promise.
But in a gallery like Montrebleu, geniuses were faces you encountered periodically.
‘Why does he react differently only to this child….’
Specifically like that?
The Curator had heard both the director and Chloe the artist compare this student to Catherine several times.
Imitating styles and deploying them similarly wasn’t an uncommon occurrence.
Moreover, standing beside the girl was Ethan, a promising participant from another group.
Sensing a need for discretion, the Curator spoke carefully.
“Showing too much interest might not be advisable.”
At her cautious remark, Marc smiled slightly.
Expectations were a double-edged sword.
Whether they would be fulfilled or disappointed.
The direction would determine either gain or loss.
“We need to watch carefully to ensure there are no problems until the end.”
This competition showed promising signs of future master artists.
Ye Ji and Ethan Miller, who’d already become acquainted for reasons unknown.
There were several others worth anticipating beyond those two.
This could well become a crucial long-term investment.
At the director’s confident words, the Curator nodded.
***
The next morning, late.
Ye Ji woke to the morning refreshed, as she’d planned.
She’d slept in a bit, but rising at ten was reasonable.
It wouldn’t be a problem for the test beginning tomorrow.
“Is there anywhere you’d like to go today?”
“Hmm, I’m not sure….”
Eating a late breakfast at a small restaurant outside the Hotel, Ye Ji relaxed with her father.
Summer in France.
Not as humid and sweltering as Korea, but peculiarly uncomfortable nonetheless.
Moreover, tomorrow marked the start of the Second Round Judging—an important time.
She didn’t want to exhaust herself beforehand.
“Let’s just visit a couple of art supply shops.”
Ye Ji pulled up her Mobile Phone and selected the places she wanted to see.
Montrebleu was supposed to provide various materials.
So there was no real need to gather personal supplies, but Ye Ji wanted to prepare as much as she possibly could.

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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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