The Reborn Genius of an Arts High School - Chapter 69

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Episode 69.
Ye Ji’s shoulders tensed with anticipation.
The main hall of Montrebleu, where she’d painted intensely for ten days.
Nineteen paintings from the competition were on display there.
The identity of the missing one was obvious.
“(Kobayashi asked to have it removed.)”
At Lucas’s words, Ye Ji nodded.
Probably, she didn’t want to display a ruined work.
“(I was curious though! Leave the piece up!)”
Ethan clearly regretted not being able to see Kobayashi’s work.
Ye Ji had already seen it while they were working, but truthfully, Kobayashi’s piece wasn’t particularly special.
The principle behind Optical Illusion, which tricks human perception, was straightforward.
Since it amounted to nothing more than repetition of patterns, its limitations were clear.
Of course, such an artistic approach wasn’t inherently wrong.
Her special class instructor, Young Man, for instance, enjoyed work that derived value from interpretation—he was an unusual artist that way.
‘But Kobayashi is far too sinister to pursue that kind of art.’
One had to elevate one’s inner self into art and attach meaning to it, but wasn’t Kobayashi’s interior simply hollow?
Ye Ji felt no particular regret or lingering affection toward her.
As she slowly walked among the remaining works, Ye Ji allowed her tension to ease.
The hall was crowded with journalists and all manner of visitors, rather lively.
Three works in particular drew crowds.
Ye Ji’s piece, Ethan’s piece, and Lucas’s piece.
Since this was Ye Ji’s first time seeing Ethan’s work from the competition, she squeezed through the throng.
Beneath rough brushstrokes lay numerous layers of color stacked upon each other.
True to Abstract Painting style, Ethan’s work was difficult to pin down to any single form.
“(Wings exist so they can soar through the sky.)”
Ethan casually explained his work to Ye Ji as she studied it.
His piece had many vertical lines throughout, creating an impression of upward ascension.
Unclear lines and planes in vertical composition.
The fact that those could be read as rising rather than falling was itself proof of Ethan’s skill.
His work carried an overall resonance of hope.
Transmitting emotion through the mingled spectacle of red, white, and yellow alone.
That was a talent whose grain ran similar to Ye Ji’s own.
Yet the crowd’s reaction was ambiguous.
“It seems well done…”
“Hmm…”
It was easy to give the impression of something striking but carelessly executed.
Only those with some developed artistic sensibility or an eye for technique could glimpse the work’s subtlety and effort.
While Ye Ji admired sincerely, the onlookers gradually began to drift away.

As the crowd dispersed, Ethan’s gaze turned toward Ye Ji’s work.
Far more people had gathered before Ye Ji’s piece.
The number of viewers was limited to whoever happened to be in the hall.
Yet the greatest concentration stood before her work.
It was because everyone lingered longest there.
The difference was so pronounced that Ye Ji seemed all but guaranteed the Popularity Award at minimum in this exhibition.
Every visitor, every journalist, had taken photographs before her work.
“…?”
While Ye Ji was still admiring Ethan’s painting, her mobile phone suddenly buzzed, startling her.
[Hyun Min: I saw articles about you already. Did the results come out?]
Hyun Min sent a link along with his message.
It was a French art media website.
Now that she looked around, several journalists had already claimed spots and opened laptops at random locations.
Montrebleu’s competition, known for discovering promising new talent.
With the awards about to be announced, art media outlets were whipping up public interest.
The thumbnails in all those articles featured either Ye Ji’s work or crowds of people gathered before it.
Among such sensationalist coverage,
not a single article mentioned Kobayashi, even though she was one of the final twenty.
No one even bothered explaining why there were only nineteen pieces on display.
They say silence is more frightening than criticism.
Kobayashi had been completely erased from public attention.
“(Please take your seats.)”
While soaking in the atmosphere, it came time for the awards.
As the moderator stepped forward to announce, people took their assigned seats.
Ye Ji, her heart trembling, sat down beside her father at their designated place.
The director offered opening remarks commending the contestants’ efforts, followed by somewhat tedious formalities.
Introductions and remarks about various corporate sponsors were added for good measure.
Ye Ji waited patiently.
After all, even competitions like this required sponsorship and investment.
Of course, Ethan grew bored with all the preliminaries and started to doze off.
“(We’ll begin with the Judges’ Award.)”
At that point, the tedium broke and the awards—the purpose of the gathering—began.
Grand Prize, Judges’ Award, and Popularity Award.
Though the names differed, their prestige ranked in that order.
The Judges’ Award, considered second among the three.
A tense silence followed.
Then a name was called.
“(Lucas! Congratulations!)”
Ye Ji found it unexpected.
To be honest, she’d thought she and Ethan would split the Grand Prize and Judges’ Award between them.
She’d harbored such arrogant assumptions.
If Ethan were called here, the Grand Prize would likely be hers.
But the second-place award belonged to Lucas?
Lucas took the stage with an impassive expression and accepted the trophy.
The moderator explained that he’d earned high marks for his philosophical approach to theme and clear ability to convey message.
Additionally, his serious and consistent dedication from beginning to end.
The commentary continued that such qualities had been highly valued.
While applauding Lucas’s congratulations, Ye Ji felt her chest flutter inexplicably.

Perhaps Ethan harbored similar thoughts.
Even Ethan, who’d dozed through the tedious proceedings, now watched the stage with sharp eyes.
Lucas certainly possessed talent worthy of the award.
He was undeniably skilled.
But separate from supporting him, it was only natural to hope one’s own efforts would be recognized.
Now would the prize split between the Grand Prize and Popularity Award, dividing her and Ethan?
Or, perhaps…
‘I might not place at all.’
The ominous thought struck her, and Ye Ji shook her head slightly.
She had done her best.
Having poured herself in without reservation, she shouldn’t feel disappointed whatever the outcome.
“(Next, we have the Popularity Award.)”
At the moderator’s next words, Ye Ji clenched her fists.
***
Four days later.
Incheon Airport.
“Oof! I can’t see where I’m going…!”
At her father’s complaint about the overloaded cart, Ye Ji wiped sweat nervously and straightened the swaying suitcases.
The airport cart was stacked so high with luggage it blocked the view ahead.
The luggage had more than doubled from when father and daughter had left with just one suitcase each.
“Careful, careful!”
Ye Ji said, struggling to hold the wobbling pile steady.
Wasn’t the contents of all that baggage obvious?
She’d greedily stuffed in various materials that weren’t readily available in Korea.
Moreover, the paints—properly speaking, those mixed with liquids.
The weight of the full containers was incomparably heavier than clothing bags.
The two women couldn’t help but make a fuss, dragging luggage that threatened to spill if they lost balance.
As they struggled through customs, a familiar voice rang out.
“Ye Ji! Ye Ji~!”
At the loud call, she turned to see Se Hee bouncing high on her long legs, waving her arms.
And beside her stood Da Hye and Hyun Min too.
“Oh, these are Ye Ji’s friends?”
At the commotion, her mother, who’d been waiting nearby, came over as well.
The loud voice had drawn everyone who’d come to pick up Ye Ji to the same spot.
Among the welcoming faces, there were unexpected ones.
“You’re making quite a scene!”
“Welcome back. How was it?”
It was Hae Yun, and Han Gyu who’d brought her.
She’d expected only her mother at the airport, at most.
Despite the surprise, Ye Ji felt equally delighted by the grand reception.
She embraced her mother, whom she hadn’t seen in a while, and said,
“How did you all manage to come here?”
Se Hee couldn’t contain herself and exclaimed,
“Ye Ji! Show us! That thing! The trophy!”
At Se Hee’s disruption of the mother-daughter reunion after nearly three weeks, Da Hye gave her a pointed look.
“Do you really have to do that right now?”
“Why? Don’t you want to see?”
Everyone wanted to see but was just being coy about it.
At Se Hee’s comment, Hae Yun only cleared her throat, not denying it.
They were all still clustered messily in front of the customs entrance.
She’d thought they’d be told not to loiter about in public like this.
Hae Yun seemed just as curious.
“Here.”
Ye Ji’s father, observing the situation, handed over the crossbody bag he’d been wearing the whole time.
“The trophy was packed separately, of course.”
Not in the suitcase, but carefully held close throughout the flight?
Ye Ji took the bag with a moment’s bewilderment.
She felt the weight, and inside, a square case.
Among the gathered acquaintances, Ye Ji felt a bit bashful but also proud as she withdrew the case.
As she opened the lid, a gleaming golden trophy appeared.
On the trophy’s face, engraved letters stood out boldly.
[Grand Prize, Ye Ji]
Of course it was inscribed in French characters, but since they’d heard about it beforehand, everyone understood.
Seeing it in person felt different from hearing about it secondhand.
Se Hee and Da Hye, upon glimpsing the trophy, immediately pulled Ye Ji into an embrace.
“Wow~! Ye Ji~!”
“That’s amazing, seriously!”
“You did great.”
Among friends hugging, patting, and thumping her shoulders, there was an uproar.
Ye Ji, nearly dropping the trophy, quickly handed it off to her mother beside her.
Her mother, receiving Ye Ji’s trophy somewhat unexpectedly, gazed at the award quietly.
She had never insisted that her daughter be the best.
Yet how proud she felt watching her child unfold her gifts and abilities without reservation.
But was this what they meant by joy so intense it becomes frightening?
Ye Ji’s mother worried whether her daughter might feel pressure or burden.
Suddenly becoming top of class, receiving recognition for artistry, even holding exhibitions—but what if stress accumulated in the process?
Yet seeing today’s result, all those worries seemed groundless.
Beside her mother, lost in quiet emotion, Hae Yun sent a look of pride.
“She really brought it back…”
Han Gyu, as if suddenly struck by the reality, murmured while gazing at the trophy.
No one present understood better than Han Gyu how remarkable this award was.
Montrebleu couldn’t be dismissed as merely a youth competition.
Even previous winners had proven that.
Recognition there was tantamount to guaranteeing an artist’s rise to prominence.
Where would Ye Ji’s talent now lead?
Han Gyu found himself deeply curious.
“Well…”
Ye Ji, dazed from receiving congratulations, gently calmed her excited companions.
After all, they were still in public.
“Should we all grab some food?”
Ye Ji proudly led the way, insisting on treating everyone as thanks.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————