Chapter 5 …

The schedule suddenly changed.

Whatever the reason, it was good news for Yeji.

She had already been dying to get everything overflowing in her head out onto a canvas.

‘Good thing I don’t have to wait until the night session.’

Carrying their heavy brushes and paints, the students hurried toward the studio classroom.

“Everyone, hurry up and sit down with the painting you’re working on!”

For some reason, the teacher had arrived unusually early today and was urging everyone on before the bell had even rung.

“The bell hasn’t rung yet, teacher!”

Naturally, the students complained about being rushed the moment they arrived.

“If you want to start right away, you should already be prepared!”

The teacher seemed unusually pressed for time today.

Yeji thought something might be wrong, but quickly decided not to care.

What mattered more was that she could start painting now.

“If that’s the case, then preparation time should count as break time.”

At Dahye’s grumbling, Yeji let out a small laugh.

Still, despite their complaints, the students all settled into their seats.

As easels and canvases were dragged into place, Yeji looked over everyone’s work.

‘More people are starting over than I expected?’

Most of the students appeared to have abandoned their practice paintings and switched to entirely new works intended for submission to the Yeonsil Exhibition.

Many had also quietly put away their oil paints and taken out acrylics or watercolors instead.

“What kind of oil painting class is this…”

Even Dahye was no different.

Holding her phone, she was already tearing apart her previous sketch and reworking the composition based on feedback she had received from her art academy.

Artistry. Freedom.

Both were trapped beneath complicated theories under the crushing pressure of achieving results.

Most students touched their canvases with extreme caution.

“I don’t know anymore~”

Compared to them, Hyunmin didn’t seem particularly obsessed with results.

Rather than forcing himself to think about making a “good painting,” he had completely shifted toward pop art.

Simple, cute, visually appealing images.

Colors designed to stimulate people’s sense of beauty.

Inside a square canvas was a sketch of a dolphin curled into a circle.

If he didn’t have technical skills to show off, it wasn’t a bad direction.

‘Actually, it’s a smart choice.’

When someone understood their own abilities objectively, decent results often followed.

A good painting didn’t necessarily require exceptional technique.

And in that regard…

Squeeze—

A heavy blob of oil paint dropped onto the palette.

Yeji spread the generously squeezed paint with a large brush.

Her fingertips still felt somewhat dull.

But that was fine.

She had more than enough sensation to bring the image in her mind into reality.

Scooping up thick blue paint with her brush, she laid it onto the canvas.

Without the slightest hesitation, she dragged it straight across.

‘Wow… that’s satisfying.’

The canvas was a No. 20 size, roughly seventy centimeters wide.

Drawing a bold stroke across it brought a strange sense of exhilaration.

The thick oil paint remained exactly where it was placed, preserving every texture of the brushstroke.

The gap between her previous life and current life was considerable.

The self in her memories had possessed abundant experience but had been half-blind, unable to properly see even half of the world.

In contrast, her current body enjoyed a clear, unobstructed field of vision but lacked experience and refined senses.

Her hands didn’t yet move exactly as she intended.

Yet Yeji wasn’t worried.

She was not merely young—she was still a child.

If those two aspects slowly merged together, her potential would grow even greater.

“…What are you doing?”

Her bold, uninhibited brushwork startled Dahye, who had been sketching beside her.

Yeji’s painting had already received favorable evaluations during the previous class.

Yet even the sections that had already been completed were now being rubbed away beneath Yeji’s brush.

A painting that the teacher had specifically said looked quite promising.

A painting everyone agreed was “pretty good.”

Now it was being completely covered in unfamiliar colors.

“I wanted to change it a little.”

Yeji answered calmly.

Then she boldly applied another layer of paint.

This was a technique known as impasto.

Her specialty.

By applying oil paint thickly, texture and depth could be created through visible brushstrokes.

The rich, heavy texture often felt in Van Gogh’s oil paintings came from this very technique.

But the existing painting had been made by a student still unfamiliar with oils, with paint applied far too thinly.

Such shallow painting simply didn’t meet Yeji’s standards.

“A little? You call this a little?”

A white tea table by the window.

A flower vase.

And the scenery beyond the glass.

That peaceful scene had been the subject of the original painting.

Now it was completely ruined.

Yeji’s version of impasto involved applying paint even more thickly than usual.

Heavy blue paint covered the table area entirely.

Beyond confusion and shock, Dahye simply gave up and shook her head.

“I’ve got spare canvases. Let me know if you need one.”

Ignoring Dahye, who seemed completely convinced the painting had been ruined, Yeji continued applying paint without restraint.

Deep blue-black tones mixed with mysterious violet hues from beyond the window.

The entire room became submerged beneath them.

It looked as though the sky beyond the window had overflowed and poured into the room itself.

Dark blue depths pooled across the canvas like the unfathomable ocean floor.

She was becoming absorbed in the physical weight of the thickly layered paint.

Then—

Click.

The classroom door suddenly opened.

A completely unfamiliar face stepped inside without warning.

An awkward silence swept through the room at the appearance of an outsider.

But Yeji immediately recognized who it was.

The person who had suddenly entered the classroom was Chloe.

“Ah, excuse us for a moment~ My goodness, everyone is working so hard!”

Cheongrim’s principal hurried in behind Chloe.

Laughing awkwardly, he tried to ease the tension.

But inwardly, even he was flustered.

Interrupting class like this?

‘I wasn’t planning to come inside.’

The problem was that even Chloe herself was surprised by her own actions.

As the situation continued spiraling out of control, the principal kept talking.

“Writer Chloe has come to Korea, and…”

He rambled on, desperately trying to explain that this had nothing to do with the Yeonsil Exhibition.

Yet somehow, the more he explained, the stranger the atmosphere became.

Everyone knew the name Chloe Choi.

Chloe watched the principal making the situation worse, but she felt no regret.

‘That painting…’

As though possessed, Chloe crossed the room and stopped midway.

The exquisite color combinations that instantly created depth.

The thickly applied oils were only the underpainting for now, yet the difference was obvious.

There was a feeling she couldn’t describe.

This brushwork looked far too similar to someone’s she had seen in her youth.

‘Catherine… it resembles her.’

A small village in the quiet outskirts of Paris.

A woman she had met there by chance.

Thin and unimpressive in appearance.

Yet possessing eyes brighter than anyone else’s.

And the astonishing paintings Chloe had seen in her studio.

Though she lived in a shabby house that was barely different from homelessness, she always kept huge amounts of paint.

Even in those circumstances, her paintings overflowed with hope and positivity.

After pleading repeatedly, Chloe had managed to receive a few lessons from her.

That experience had completely changed her life as a painter.

“Is this your painting?”

Looking more closely, she noticed traces of another painting beneath the bold brushwork.

The students at Cheongrim were all quite skilled.

But Chloe had been deeply disappointed by their formulaic abilities.

Even the painting that had just surprised her carried some of that same feeling.

“Yes.”

The student’s short reply made Chloe examine the painting more carefully.

All of the students’ works at Cheongrim gave her the same impression.

Paintings that were unbelievably rigid and standardized for high school students.

She understood it was due to Korea’s entrance exam system.

Still, she didn’t like it.

She didn’t want to assign scores based on tiny differences between paintings that felt like cookies stamped from the same mold.

“Student, what’s your name?”

“Lee Yeji.”

She had originally intended to reject the troublesome offer to serve as a judge.

Then she met Yeji’s eyes.

Calm.

Yet burning with a strange passion.

For some reason, even that gaze felt strangely familiar and nostalgic.

“The underpainting and what you’re painting now are completely different styles. How do you plan to finish it?”

At Chloe’s question, Yeji remained silent.

“Could she be one of the judges for this year’s Yeonsil Exhibition…?”

Hyunmin’s muttering could be heard nearby.

Yeji rolled her eyes thoughtfully for a moment before answering firmly.

“It’s a painting I’m submitting to the school exhibition. If I tell you now, it won’t be fun. Please see the finished version later.”

At her answer, the corners of Chloe’s lips rose unconsciously.

Her opinion had now changed completely.

‘Maybe this does have meaning.’

Perhaps the children shaped by Korea’s entrance exam system were actually well-polished gemstones.

They had simply learned proper techniques and skills.

They were still rough stones lacking individuality and character.

Depending on how they were carved, their value could become completely different.

‘Lee Yeji…’

The painting of the student who had given her hope.

What would the finished work feel like?

What emotions would it evoke in her?

What were those colors trying to express?

Anticipation swelled in her chest until her heart raced.

How long had it been since she felt such pure excitement?

“…It’s nice. I’ll look forward to it.”

With those words, Chloe left the classroom.

The principal practically danced after her, his steps noticeably lighter.

Yeji stopped painting and watched Chloe’s departing figure.

She had become quite a remarkable middle-aged woman.

Then—

“Holy crap! That was Chloe Choi, right?”

“So Chloe Choi is one of the judges this year? That’s an insane lineup.”

“I think she liked Lee Yeji’s painting.”

“Oho~ Lee Yeji~!”

The classroom exploded into chaos.

Teasing.

Envy.

Jokes.

Jealousy.

Everything mixed together.

“Quiet! Quiet! Are you all going to paint or not?”

Before the excitement could get out of control, the teacher hurriedly calmed everyone down.

The students finally dispersed and returned to their own paintings with renewed determination.

Among them, Yeji thought:

‘Chloe is going to judge my painting?’

Chloe, who once begged her to teach her painting.

And now that same Chloe would be looking at a painting made by her former teacher, now a student.

Yeji picked up her brush again with a resolute expression.

She absolutely refused to paint something Chloe would consider lacking.

A few days later, it was officially announced that the chief judge of the Yeonsil Exhibition would be Chloe Choi.

The news shook not only the school but the entire Korean art world.

Countless galleries and painters eager to establish connections with Chloe focused their attention on the event.

Everyone expected them to flood in once the exhibition opened.

Even the teachers became increasingly tense.

The students, feeling tremendous pressure, threw themselves into their work with even greater intensity.

While everyone burned with motivation—

Yeji quit her art academy.

“Ugh, it’s ridiculously expensive.”

Inside an art supply store somewhere in Seoul, Dahye grumbled while filling her basket with paint.

The colors she had run out of.

Larger tubes of basic white and black.

As she carefully selected supplies, she glanced at Yeji and froze.

“Hey… you.”

Yeji was quietly loading paint into her basket.

Not small tubes, either.

Large 200ml containers.

As though she already knew exactly what colors she needed, she tossed them in without hesitation.

Her basket was already overflowing.

“…That alone has to be at least 500,000 won.”

“That’s why I quit the academy.”

Yeji answered with a grin.

If she was receiving support from her parents, spending the money on materials was far more beneficial.

Besides, maintaining an expensive art academy simply because everyone else attended one was wasteful.

Catherine in her memories.

Her own former self.

With a teacher like that already inside her, the academy was even more unnecessary.

Private education that preyed on the desperation of students and parents alike was something she deeply disliked.

“Ah. Then it really is a lot cheaper.”

Convinced, Dahye thought for a moment before adding everything she needed to her basket as well.

Soon, the two paid for their supplies and left the store.

Dahye stared at her receipt with a complicated expression before crumpling it.

“It’s a weird feeling.”

In the end, art required money.

No matter how comfortable one’s family was, unless they were wealthy tycoons, the burden couldn’t be ignored.

A lingering sense of debt always followed the children.

And that weight naturally transformed into a desire for good results.

“I’m heading to the academy. What about you?”

Having steeled herself, Dahye asked.

Stuffing the heavy paints into a large bag, Yeji replied:

“I’m going back to school.”