The Reborn Genius of an Arts High School - Chapter 83

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

Episode 83.
Cheonglim Arts High School, Western Painting Department, second year: Kim Dong Ha.
His role was simple—just another unremarkable student at the academy.
But there was one fact everyone had likely forgotten.
Even Ye Ji probably didn’t remember it clearly, but last year he’d ranked just ahead of her, almost consistently.
Though admittedly in that murky middle-to-upper tier.
Then one day, seeing her suddenly emerge in his thoughts, Dong Ha felt nothing but joy at first.
‘If she can do it, I can too.’
It seemed as if her accomplishments were saying exactly that.
Of course, that hope didn’t last long.
People who didn’t know better attributed Ye Ji’s brilliance to some innate genius, but Dong Ha saw it differently.
She was someone for whom effort mattered far more than talent.
Even if he died and came back, he couldn’t imagine matching her work ethic.
She was the type to concentrate on her paintings with bright, energetic eyes all day long.
It hadn’t always been that way, but one thing was certain.
At least from the point when everyone clearly began to notice Ye Ji’s improvement, it was like this.
The moment practice time began, she’d practically vibrate with impatience, then rush to the Practice Studio faster than she’d ever run to the Cafeteria at lunch.
He’d heard she’d even gotten her own workshop space and continued working after school.
Meanwhile, he spent his time scheming how to skip his hagwon and just wanted to get home.
When he did draw, his hands reached for a tablet, not a brush.
He’d only come to Western Painting because of his parents’ near-forceful recommendation.
‘How does anyone spend their whole life just painting like that?’
Casual, self-indulgent illustration was far more to his taste.
With any free time left over, he’d browse webtoons on his mobile phone, and at home he’d plop down at the computer and launch a game first thing.
Ye Ji seemed utterly devoid of such desires.
Doesn’t every high schooler want to play and nap whenever they please?
In that sense, she was a monster. A complete monster.
“So wait, we all have to participate?”
Of course, that was only possible because it was Ye Ji.
He was always short on free time in various ways.
To make matters worse, he’d been counting down to dismissal, eager to get home and dive into the next story of the horror game he’d just bought.
But a school festival? Really?
He’d rather go home and play games instead.
“You don’t have to do it. You can just say you’re sitting this one out if you want.”
While everyone else animatedly discussed the plans, someone answered Dong Ha’s grumbling from the corner with a cynical tone.
He turned his head to see it was a student from the Design Department next door.
Because the Western Painting Department was spearheading things, the classroom had been invaded by students from other departments.
Irritated that this outsider was saying such a thing about his own classroom, Dong Ha snapped back.
“Hey, this is our classroom, alright?”
If anyone was leaving, it should be them.
After days of repetition, he was fed up.
The friend next to him patted Dong Ha’s back soothingly.
He understood why his friends were so excited, though.
But didn’t they all lack a sense of priorities?
With the End of Year Exams right around the corner, he couldn’t fathom why they’d spare any energy on this.
“But wait—if it’s an escape room, shouldn’t there be some kind of story?”
“I don’t think it’ll be fun if you just draw a bunch of scary backgrounds.”
His suggestion prompted murmurs around the room.
As befitted an art department, they animatedly discussed only what materials to use for the scary paintings.
They’d overlooked the storytelling the paintings would need.
“…Um, does anyone want to come up with a story?”
Hyun Min, who’d been leading the discussion at the front, seemed to realize the oversight and gestured.
But no one raised their hand in response to his question.
With clueless kids just clustering together like this, how could any answer emerge?
It was only a school festival anyway—a ten-minute experience should suffice.
Dong Ha answered Hyun Min’s question, hoping the students from other departments would leave soon.
“Just do something like a zombie thing.”
His off-the-cuff remark suddenly drew everyone’s attention.
Caught off guard by more attention than expected, Dong Ha was flustered.
Ye Ji, who’d been quietly observing, suddenly spoke up.
“That actually sounds pretty good. Do you have any other ideas?”
In the brief pause after her words—
“Oh! A zombie story would be fun.”
“Seriously? If the Dance Department kids played zombies, it’d be super creepy.”
“Maybe it’d come off way more realistic than ghosts or something?”
People around the room chimed in their agreement.
Dong Ha, having missed his chance to slip away, looked around in bewilderment.
Everyone was looking at him with eyes full of anticipation, as if asking what else he had in mind.
An escape room with a horror concept they could set up at school.
With a zombie theme, no less.
Actually, an idea had occurred to him from the start.
“I mean, it’s just… that sort of thing. When a disaster hits, places like schools usually become evacuation shelters, right?…”
Wouldn’t it work if they used that as their setting?
Ye Ji added to his trailing words.
“Exactly. And Young Teacher, who’s instructing the Special Class this semester, is supposed to participate too. In a way, you could say it’s a kind of special lecture, couldn’t you?”
At Ye Ji’s words, cheers erupted from the gathered students.
In truth, singling out certain students through something called a “Special Class” was something the general students resented.
‘I should be in that next year.’
Only a select few could even entertain such ambitions.
Most had no choice but to envy or resent their special treatment.
The Special Class’s benefit of meeting world-class instructors.
The prospect of sharing that opportunity made the already-excited students even more energized.
“If we add the zombie concept on top of that, it’d be seriously fun, right?”
“So what do you think we should build to make an evacuation shelter look realistic?”
In the bustling atmosphere, the questions and attention directed at Dong Ha multiplied.
“Wait, wait.”
Seeing Dong Ha’s expression, Hyun Min made a suggestion.
“Since it’s come to this, how about Dong Ha takes on the role of Art Director?”
……
Of course, others would contribute ideas too, but someone needed to anchor everything.
Hyun Min was confident coordinating between friends, but he doubted his ability to oversee the artwork itself.
At Hyun Min’s words, everyone around them voiced agreement.
Dong Ha sensed he was being gradually drawn in, yet he felt a spark of interest kindling within him.
Strangely, the fact that a role specific to him was emerging appealed to him.
And he had to admit—he didn’t mind that everyone thought his ideas were good either.
“What, so you all have no objections if I do it?”
No one voiced disagreement with Dong Ha’s words.
Rather, they looked at him with eager eyes, wanting to know specifically what he’d have them do.
Before he knew it, Dong Ha opened his mouth again.
“Alright, then…”
***
Festival preparations were progressing swimmingly.
Midterm Exams, Special Classes, private lessons, individual projects.
Some days she wished she had two bodies to manage it all.
Which made moments like this all the more necessary.
Coming home early after dining out with her parents for once—just spending time together without pretense.
Sitting side by side on the sofa with the TV playing a drama, she munched on Korean melon her mother had cut.
Simply sharing a space and time with her family, resting peacefully.
Just as she wished this moment would linger, her mobile phone buzzed.
—Buzz.
After a long time, Ye Ji received a message from Ethan and picked up her phone.
What he’d sent was the runway show from Celine, completed successfully.
Ye Ji’s work appeared continuously among the promotional materials.
[Ethan: Go-yo. That’s you, right?]
How had he figured this out again? If Elisa had told him, she’d understand.
Actually, Ye Ji had already shared Go-yo’s account with Elisa beforehand.
It was a kind of reciprocal gesture for Elisa sharing her own private account.
It struck her as odd to proactively tell Ethan, and she suspected he wouldn’t even understand it.
‘He’s even more about it than I am.’
While Ye Ji didn’t mind others’ attention, Ethan cared even less.
He seemed almost entirely uninterested in connecting with people at all.
He was the type who simply showcased his talent and interest, purely and straightforwardly.
Would he truly grasp why she went to the trouble of using a stage name, hiding her real identity to avoid gossip and complications?
[Ethan: Suddenly doing commercial work?]
[Ethan: Are you broke?]
Just as she’d expected.
Even with her brief explanation, he’d responded like that.
At his bluntness, Ye Ji laughed aloud without thinking.
[Not rich, that’s for sure.]
[Joking though—it wasn’t about the money.]
[Just, various challenges. How far my paintings can reach.]
[That kind of thing?]
Plus, thanks to this, the account under “Ye Ji” stayed clean.
Which meant she could check contacts directed to her right away.
As Ye Ji explained this, Ethan fell silent for a moment before sending a brief message.
[Ethan: Sometimes]
Then, after thinking a bit longer, he sent a longer follow-up.
[Ethan: I think I got caught up in surface-level aesthetics]
It was a misconception that sometimes afflicted those doing pure art.
That commercial art was vulgar while pure art was noble.
They’d insist that expressing the self and one’s worldview was some exclusive domain of pure art.
But ultimately, all art leads to the same path.
Even when practical necessity demands choices along the way, the artist’s intent ultimately encompasses everything.
Earning some money didn’t erase that fundamental essence.
At Ethan’s sudden moment of reflection, Ye Ji smirked.
[I don’t think I’m much different.]
[Ethan: What does that make me then]
[Ethan: Anyway]
[Ethan: Impressive. Rooting for you.]
Reading Ethan’s message, Ye Ji smirked again.
At the sight of her suddenly laughing, her father, who’d been using the sofa’s back as support while watching TV, spun around sharply.
“You’re DM-ing with that guy again, aren’t you?!”
“…Dad, how is it you’re so perceptive at times like this?”
Caught off guard by her father’s sharp intuition, Ye Ji burst into laughter and straightened her posture.
“Just asking what he’s been working on lately.”
Her answer did nothing to dispel her father’s displeased expression.
Seeing his sulkiness, her mother began teasing him about his grumpy face.
Ye Ji laughed at her parents’ good-natured(?) banter and popped another piece of melon into her mouth.
The conversation with Ethan that followed was nothing particularly remarkable.
He was continuing his own personal projects too.
Since he’d been posting new works and process shots to SNS almost daily recently, there was no real need for Ye Ji to ask.
As a result, the conversation naturally consisted mainly of Ethan’s questions.
[Ethan: A school festival? A party?]
At Ethan’s question, Ye Ji explained Korean high school culture to him.
[Ethan: Korean school sounds pretty fun]
[Ethan: We have similar events too.]
Ye Ji became curious at his words.
[How do you guys do it?]
[Ethan: We usually just do plays.]
Formal theatrical productions that the drama club would stage as presentations, usually once per group.
As such, the art club often needed to provide help with stage sets and backdrops.
Ethan himself had experience helping the club members back in middle school.
[Ethan: I don’t know why, but these events always have so many mishaps.]
Most commonly, props would break or go missing right before a show.
Apparently that kind of mess happened frequently.
[Ethan: When that happens, before anyone wastes time looking around and complaining,]
[Ethan: kids like us just remake them. It’s faster.]
At his phrase “kids like us,” Ye Ji couldn’t help but smile a little.
[Ethan: But you guys don’t have a stage.]
[Ethan: How are you decorating a classroom?]
After all, they’d have to restore it to normal once the festival ended.
To Ethan’s question, Ye Ji answered unhurriedly.
[Surprisingly, there are quite a few good methods.]
[I’ll show you once it’s finished.]

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