The Reborn Genius of an Arts High School - Chapter 8

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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 8.
Ye Ji pulled her hat down over her face and headed straight for the Yerim Art Center.
Having taken her parents’ car, she arrived faster than usual.
The Yerim Art Center was crowded from early morning.
More precisely, everyone had gathered in front of Ye Ji’s painting, which made the place seem full.
“How could this…”
Before she could even finish asking what had happened.
Ye Ji found herself staring at her torn painting.
Particularly in the lower section where the flower petals were rendered—that part had been damaged.
A long, razor-sharp gash had been carved through the canvas, piercing it clean through.
“You’re Ye Ji, aren’t you? What do we do about this…?”
“This has never happened before…”
“Everything was fine when we closed the center yesterday after the deadline.”
“Of all things, the CCTV…”
Teachers and every involved party showered Ye Ji with excuses and consolations.
But none of that mattered to Ye Ji.
She tilted her head slightly and stared at her own work as she asked.
“If I repair the work now, will it still be accepted?”
At Ye Ji’s question, the surrounding area fell quiet for a moment.
“It should be accepted.”
It was Chloe.
The situation had escalated to bring in not just the judging committee members who’d been informed of what happened, but the Principal himself.
Even the Principal seemed lost, facing a crisis unprecedented in school history.
“Well, um… the situation is what it is, but… this matter of fairness…”
“So then, if the school is at fault for damaging a student’s work before judging, that’s fair?”
At Chloe’s words, the Principal’s brow beaded with sweat.
Yeonsilzong was an exhibition where students staked their all.
Creating a special exception out of the blue was a surefire way to invite trouble later.
“Still, that’s a bit much, isn’t it? We have to think of the other students who kept the deadline properly, after all.”
“Right. It’s unfortunate, but couldn’t we just factor that in during judging?”
What’s more, all the other judges except Chloe suddenly voiced their opposition.
As if they’d coordinated their response beforehand.
They all spoke in unison, declaring firm resistance.
…
Ji An, who had heard about the situation, was also at the scene.
As he watched the situation unfold, he nervously gnawed at his fingernails.
Then Ji An’s Mother, standing beside him, gently grasped her son’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart.”
Ji An turned to look at his Mother, who stood with elegant composure.
“A painting by some girl with no background winning first place would be rather embarrassing for the school, wouldn’t it?”
…
Ji An understood what his Mother was getting at with her roundabout phrasing.
“You have far better credentials, my son. And I’ve made sure the judges understand it well.”
Had she merely spoken, though?
For the message to sink in properly, it was obvious that material compensation had been added to the mix.
Ji An knew exactly what kind of person his Mother was.
If it meant making him the finest painter in Korea, she would do anything.
And he was no different from her.
“All right, all right. Let’s discuss how to resolve this fairly. Everyone, please disperse!”
Teachers hastily scattered the crowd that had gathered in front of the painting.
Most were students participating in Yeonsilzong and their parents.
As the crowd dispersed, Ye Ji and Ji An’s eyes met for a moment.
Ji An was disconcerted—Ye Ji showed neither panic nor sadness, but rather mild displeasure.
Why was she so composed despite her painting being destroyed?
“Nothing will change.”
Ji An turned away, taking comfort in his Mother’s voice.
The sudden arrival of a genius.
Such a thing could never become an obstacle to the path of steady elite achievement he had walked.
“…Yes.”
Pushing away the creeping anxiety that kept tugging at his heels, Ji An chose to believe this.
***
“Excuse me—how can a CCTV that was working fine suddenly malfunction starting last evening?”
The Principal’s office was absolute chaos.
Even a security company had come to assess the situation.
“Someone deliberately cut the power line to the CCTV covering that particular exhibition hall.”
The severed wire, cut with precision, was the evidence.
No external intrusion alarm had sounded, which meant it was an insider’s doing.
The security company shifted responsibility.
So then, who would take responsibility for this?
Growing impatient with the unproductive discussion, Chloe cut to the heart of the matter.
“So what are you planning to do about this?”
Chloe asked the Principal directly.
The Principal dabbed his sweat-soaked forehead repeatedly with a handkerchief as he answered.
“Well, for now… shouldn’t we proceed with the judging as scheduled?”
In other words, judging Ye Ji’s work while it remained damaged.
At the Principal’s words, a low murmur rippled through the room.
It was the art teachers whispering among themselves.
Though Chloe had lived almost her entire life in France and knew little of Korean culture.
‘It’s the same everywhere.’
They only murmured. No one openly contradicted the Principal’s opinion.
Chloe realized that she alone held the position to make a proper protest in this situation.
“So you’re saying you’ll just let a student be placed in an unjust situation and proceed as is?”
If just one student is sacrificed, the situation gets swept under the rug?
When Chloe directly called out the Principal’s intent, the atmosphere grew tense.
“It’s not as simple as you might think.”
Another judge responded to Chloe’s words.
Some gallery director, supposedly.
But as far as Chloe was concerned, just some Korean gallery she’d never heard of.
Most of the other judges were merely professors at domestic universities or similar level.
None of them came close to Chloe’s standing.
“Admission records mean so much in Korea.
If we push the second round of judging, it’ll affect final exam schedules.
If we do that, we’ll face complaints from every student in the school.”
If the Principal or teachers said this, Chloe might let it slide.
But curiously, the other judges were pushing far more actively than they were.
“We’re not trying to dismiss your opinion, Ma’am…”
The judge’s apologetic tone grated on her.
Something felt off in multiple ways.
Chloe had only agreed to take on the role of judge this one time as a special favor.
If she didn’t feel like it, she didn’t even have to do that.
Given the situation, no one would fault her for withdrawing.
So strictly speaking, there was no real need for her to get involved.
‘…But it bothers me.’
Perhaps because she’d sensed in Ye Ji’s painting a nostalgia for Catherine, her long-time mentor and teacher.
She didn’t want to just let this pass.
[Full Bloom]
Chloe picked up her mobile phone and looked again at the photograph she’d taken of Ye Ji’s painting.
Flowers in full bloom yet submerged in water, trapped in that fleeting moment.
The inexplicable tenderness she felt from them stirred something in her heart.
Flowers in full bloom, yet unable to emerge from the water.
They remained submerged without fully displaying their fragrance or color.
The subtle poignancy sensed in that depth seemed only amplified by the damage.
‘If I repair the work now, will it still be accepted?’
Chloe had been surprised when she saw Ye Ji ask such a question the moment she beheld the damaged work.
She’d found herself instinctively taking the girl’s side.
Even fully grown adults feel sadness when a work they’ve labored over is damaged, and in severe cases, despair.
But this young student had been far too composed.
So much so that Chloe doubted she was truly seventeen.
Moreover, looking back, it seemed that Chloe herself bore some responsibility for what had happened.
‘I shouldn’t have added my own remarks to that girl’s painting…’
Perhaps it had triggered jealousy in sensitive adolescents.
But regardless of the reason.
Whether she truly bore responsibility or not.
Chloe’s feelings about it were complicated.
‘Repair…’
She was curious about the intention behind that girl’s unhesitating mention of repair despite the damaged canvas.
The sketch she’d seen initially, so different from everything else.
And then Ye Ji had produced a work that exceeded all expectations.
How would that girl repair this into something even better?
How confident must she be to say something so bold?
“So perhaps you could understand, Ma’am…”
Chloe seemed lost in thought, so the Principal fell silent as well.
He was clearly anxious that Chloe might withdraw from judging altogether.
“If we give her a chance to repair the work without changing the schedule, would everyone agree?”
Chloe made her proposal.
The Principal and the other judges nodded, their expressions skeptical.
“Well… yes?”
“Yes, as long as the situation is fair to everyone…”
Fairness had already been compromised, but what did they expect her to say.
Chloe found the situation itself objectionable, but she could tolerate it.
Ye Ji.
She had to see how that girl’s painting would transform.
That was all that truly mattered to her now.
That was the only thing she wanted.
“Then let’s do this.”
***
“What kind of ridiculous nonsense is this!”
An enraged Da Hye slammed the café table—Bang!
Hyun Min, startled beside her, quickly tried to calm her down.
Ye Ji, wearing a dazed expression, simply crunched on the ice in her drink.
[Notice of Changes to Yeonsilzong Judging Criteria]
A notice had been posted prominently on Cheonglim’s website.
“Additional repairs will be permitted during the ten-day exhibition period, and all judging will take place on the final day of the exhibition.”
Hyun Min summarized the newly posted notice and read it aloud.
“However, all repairs must be done only at the exhibition hall.”
“These bastards… You catch the culprit, you catch them! How is this a fair solution?!”
Da Hye, still fuming at the thought of it, started ranting again. Hyun Min forced her back into her seat and quickly checked Ye Ji’s expression.
Ye Ji, who was at the center of this crisis, continued to crunch on ice.
“You okay?”
At Hyun Min’s question—which oddly felt familiar—Ye Ji let out a hollow laugh.
Okay?
“Yeah, I’m fine. Actually… this works out. You know?”
‘Did she lose it again?’
Ye Ji shrugged at the look in her two friends’ eyes.
Of course, she didn’t mean everything was fine in any absolute sense.
Whoever had destroyed her painting, she was determined to catch them and make them pay for it.
But that was separate from the situation at hand. What’s done is done.
So rather than stopping there, she had to move forward.
“There are artists like Lucio Fontana, right? When you think about it carefully, it could lead to an even better work.”
“Ah, Lucio.”
When Hyun Min responded as if he knew the artist, Da Hye tilted her head.
“Who’s that?”
Da Hye searched briefly, then nodded in agreement.
That artist’s works had a distinctive quality—single-color painted canvases with slashes added to them.
“And these things go for like a billion won…”
At Da Hye’s words after browsing a few internet articles, Ye Ji let out a quiet laugh.
An artist who created works by slashing canvases.
That artist’s intent was to dissolve the boundary between two and three dimensions.
Hyun Min, with his deeper knowledge of art, added his own insight naturally.
“He’s a Spatialism artist. I mean, when you look at it that way, the artistic merit kind of depends on how you frame it.”
The moment Ye Ji saw her slashed canvas, she’d instantly thought of that artist.
“Right. It all depends on how you frame it.”
Her head felt crowded with new inspiration just beginning to take shape.
That was why she’d been lost in thought the whole time.
“You could say that thanks to some worthless bastard, my work has transcended the limitations of the flat plane.”
And perhaps she herself would finally overcome the very limitations that Catherine—her former self—had once faced.
At Ye Ji’s statement, which borrowed Da Hye’s crude language, her expression grew ambiguous.
“That guy—I have a pretty good idea who it is.”
At Da Hye’s words, Ye Ji crunched another piece of ice before answering.
“So do I. One person.”
Ji An.
No one had said it aloud, but he was the most suspicious in this situation.
Da Hye nodded in agreement and leaned in closer conspiratorially.
“His family’s so connected—his grandfather was some kind of government minister.”
At Da Hye’s words, Ye Ji let out another hollow laugh.
Emptiness, absurdity, mixed with anger—a laugh carrying many emotions.
Even Da Hye, who had been about to say more, fell silent.
In this situation, speculating about the culprit was pointless.
Even if Ji An was the culprit, focusing on it now would play right into his hands.
She wouldn’t repair her work properly and would just waste time.
“We need to focus on repairing the work first.”
At Ye Ji’s words, Hyun Min, who had been quietly listening, smiled softly as if a good idea had just occurred to him.

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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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