Chapter 10

Director of Bellagio Gallery, Jung Do-hyun.

He was one of the judges for Cheongrim’s year-end comprehensive practical exhibition, commonly known as “Yeonsiljong.”

After serving in that role for several years, he had become accustomed to parents offering all kinds of gifts and money.

The guilt had only lasted the first few times.

Now, he had long since grown used to it and numb to it.

“It’s nothing special. You know our son got into Cheongrim this year, right?”

The woman who handed him the cake box was someone he only remembered as the daughter-in-law of a former Minister of Culture.

Inside the box were stacks of familiar 50,000-won bills.

“Could I take a look at the painting?”

“Oh my, of course. It won’t put you in an awkward position.”

Contrary to his expectation that it would be ridiculous, the painting by her son, Kim Jian, was actually quite good.

Good enough that it looked destined for the top rankings even without this.

It was exactly the kind of standardized, straightforward work that university professors loved—solidly grounded in fundamentals.

“I’ll pass along your regards to my father-in-law as well.”

So, just as she said, he accepted the money without much burden.

Even if he gave the painting a high score, most people would agree it deserved it.

He had simply considered it free money.

At least, until an unexpected dark horse named Lee Yeji appeared.

“……”

The Yerim Art Center had been emptied out for the second round of judging.

An uncomfortable silence flowed among the judges as they entered the exhibition hall.

The vandalism incident.

And now, the second judging round.

As time passed, Do-hyun became certain of one thing.

Every judge except Chloe had accepted bribes.

The way they had all worked together to stop the second judging round so unnaturally made it obvious.

But even if a second round happened, he thought nothing would change.

Oil painting?

A seventeen-year-old painting in oils?

For a high school student whose goal was college admissions, it seemed overly pretentious.

A painting like that would never get someone into a Korean university anyway.

Inside his head, Do-hyun was already lining up criticisms of Yeji’s work.

“……The scent of flowers?”

The moment he entered the exhibition hall, a rich floral fragrance struck his senses.

As if enchanted, everyone followed the scent.

And there it was.

The painting.

[Full Bloom]

In a silence where everyone held their breath,

beneath lights pouring down from above,

dozens of flowers cast shadows in a single direction.

Bright yellow roses bloomed vividly, spreading their fragrance throughout the space.

“……”

Without realizing it, Do-hyun stepped closer.

The work was heavily abstracted, yet a clear structure remained underneath.

Horizontal and vertical lines.

Perspective.

A painting that deliberately condenses those principles is different from one that merely obscures them out of ignorance.

Just as Picasso’s works and a child’s drawing may appear only a hair apart at first glance, the resonance they carry is completely different.

How… can a seventeen-year-old paint something like this?

Suddenly, Do-hyun looked back at Chloe.

A stubborn painter with nothing but foreign fame.

That was what he had thought.

But he had been wrong.

The one who had stubbornly refused to truly look at the artwork was himself.

Chloe—

she was the one who genuinely possessed an eye for art.

“No, but still… competitions should be judged by painting skill.”

“Those fresh flowers weren’t created through the artist’s own skill. She just stuck flowers into it.”

“Exactly. And leaving it smelling like this makes every other student’s work seem dead by comparison…”

Do-hyun could hear the other judges forcing out petty criticisms.

The wound that brutally cut through flowers submerged deep beneath the surface.

The slash that tore through the canvas at an angle.

Flowers growing through the gap.

It was as if the work declared that once something had reached full bloom, no matter what tried to suppress or hinder it—

No.

Rather, the more it was hindered, the more brilliantly it would bloom.

The flowers had burst beyond the flat surface, beyond the canvas itself, and into reality.

Their presence was overwhelming.

But so what?

“Right. No matter what, we can’t give points for tricks like this—”

What about the money they had already taken?

Do-hyun desperately searched for excuses.

Then, a single petal fell from the artwork.

Weakly drifting downward.

It gently came to rest on the transparent acrylic sheet placed beneath the piece.

“……”

“……”

At that sight, the judges who had all been speaking fell silent.

As though this meaningless argument itself was causing the artwork’s fully bloomed artistic value to wither.

From the brilliant work, a petal quietly wilted and drifted down.

“The competition rules only state that three-dimensional works and spatial utilization must not invade another participant’s space.”

While looking at the artwork, Chloe suddenly wiped away a single tear and spoke.

Why she was crying—

Do-hyun felt he vaguely understood.

The work possessed enough resonance and depth to move someone.

But that resonance was devastating to Do-hyun in an entirely different way.

“There was a collage piece over there, wasn’t there? If reinterpreting existing objects violates the rules, then wouldn’t that piece also become ineligible for judging?”

Though her eyes remained fixed on the artwork, Chloe’s words were sharp.

“Th… that… could… not necessarily… be interpreted that way…”

Do-hyun stumbled through his response, looking around nervously.

Duchamp’s Fountain.

A mass-produced urinal presented as art.

It had expanded the very definition and boundaries of art itself.

If meaning and intention were present, whether something was an industrial product or an organic object no longer mattered.

At this point, debating whether the flowers in this work qualified as art was meaningless.

What mattered was what the artist intended to express.

That was the most important principle of modern art.

“…No.”

If it had merely been theoretically impressive, he might have found something to criticize.

But the oil-painting techniques and the staging of the scene itself were equally exceptional.

The flawless use of the impasto technique gave depth and vitality proportional to the layers of paint.

Combined with the lighting that fell from the side, the flowers and the painting became one unified work.

That sense of unity created an immersion that had held Do-hyun’s attention for all this time.

There’s nothing to criticize…

Artists like Lucio Fontana and Alberto Burri had already used damaged canvases in their works.

The sense of space created in reality through ruptures originating from the canvas.

Where earlier artists had simply opened that space like an open-ended conclusion, Full Bloom took things one step further.

Flowers bursting forth richly from the space exposed by the split canvas.

It clearly carried the artist’s intention.

The meaning of yellow roses.

1. Perfect Achievement
2. Jealousy

Because the work was dreamy and beautiful, many interpretations were possible.

But the phrase displayed beside it clearly guided the viewer toward a specific one.

This work was the artist’s Perfect Achievement, yet it was destined to wither because of someone’s Jealousy.

Depending on the judges’ choices, the order could be reversed.

It might have been destined to wither due to someone’s jealousy.

Or it could become the artist’s perfect achievement.

Lost in thought as he stared at the work, Do-hyun felt his face burn with shame.

It was as though the artwork itself were condemning the immoral choice he was about to make.

If only that woman hadn’t done something so unnecessary…!

Standing before such flawless artistry, Do-hyun felt as though all avenues of retreat had been cut off.

If this work failed to receive a high score, the situation would become unnaturally suspicious.

People would question the judges’ qualifications.

Or suspect bribery.

If only there hadn’t been that pointless act of vandalism!

Then at least he could have made excuses.

Instead, the second judging round had caused the work to evolve into something even greater.

Anyone with eyes could no longer deny that truth.

And so, after several hours, the second round of judging came to an end.

The moment it was over, Do-hyun headed straight for a mansion in Cheongdam-dong.

“…Why are you here at this hour? I heard today was the second judging round.”

The person who emerged from the mansion was Kim Jian’s mother and the former minister’s—

That no longer mattered.

Do-hyun handed back the cake box full of cash he had been carrying uneasily.

“What is this…? Do you think this is some kind of children’s game? If you take it and return it later, does everything just disappear?”

“Do you have any idea who caused this situation in the first place—!”

Do-hyun barely managed to suppress his rising anger.

He had no concrete evidence.

But he was convinced that this family was behind the vandalism.

Forcing himself to stay calm, he spat out each word like a warning.

“I can play along with bribery, but damaging another student’s artwork is a completely different matter, isn’t it?”

“W-What are you talking about?!”

Startled, Jian’s mother immediately protested.

“Do you have proof? You’re accusing innocent people without—”

“Do you still not understand the situation?! That’s not what matters!”

Do-hyun snapped.

“Just the controversy alone could ruin not only your son’s future but also your father-in-law’s political career. Can you handle that?”

“Ha! Unbelievable. Weren’t you perfectly happy taking dirty money before? And now you’re pretending to be righteous?”

That part was true.

But Do-hyun had already chosen the path that minimized his own guilt.

The money had been returned.

The scores would be judged fairly.

“Damn it! If there was a genius of that caliber, you should’ve manipulated things with some restraint! This has gotten way too big!”

This wasn’t some neighborhood festival.

It was Yeonsiljong.

He couldn’t hand out blatantly biased scores in a competition like this.

His career wasn’t worth a few thousand dollars.

At that moment, someone came running out of the mansion.

“Wait!”

Seeing the shouting boy, Do-hyun instantly knew who he was despite never having met him before.

So that was Jian.

“Even so, you can’t do this! If this was how you were going to act, you shouldn’t have accepted the money in the first place!”

Jian shouted furiously at Do-hyun.

The situation had become such a disaster that everyone was now busy blaming one another.

Among the cars parked along the quiet street of the upscale residential neighborhood—

Click.

A camera shutter sounded from inside one of the vehicles.

Unaware that everything was being recorded through a slightly opened window,

they carelessly confessed their own crimes.

“Cheongrim Opens a New Future Through Outstanding Works!”

“Yeonsiljong Ends Successfully, a Stage Forged by Student Passion.”

“The Fruits of Creativity Displayed by the Entire Student Body—Yeonsiljong Achieves Both Prestige and Recognition.”

Articles about Yeonsiljong appeared in countless art magazines and newspapers.

And so, the event came to a glamorous close, drawing widespread attention.

The incident involving the vandalism of Yeji’s artwork was reduced to little more than an unusual process that led to the creation of an exceptional masterpiece.

It was hardly a pleasant outcome.

Yet paradoxically, the artwork itself attracted even more attention because of it.

Several media outlets even requested interviews.

“There are a few people interested in buying the piece. Do you have any intention of selling it?”

After the exhibition ended, even her homeroom teacher cautiously asked her that question.

But Yeji had no intention of selling it yet.

“I’m still looking for the culprit.”

The artwork was still evidence.

If she sold it, it would only be after catching whoever was responsible.

Her teacher nodded.

“If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Yeji felt fortunate that the school teachers were generally on her side.

Things would have become far more complicated if they had been the first to suspect her sudden growth.

Fortunately, they had simply admired what they had personally witnessed.

After smoothly finishing her final exams and choosing Western Painting as her major for the following year, another rather amusing incident occurred.

“Well, the reason I asked to see you separately today is…”

A teacher from the Eastern Painting Department had called her aside and asked whether she might be interested in that field instead.

Of course, Korean traditional painting had its own charm.

The folk paintings she had practiced in class were quite appealing.

But—

“I think I’ll stick with what I originally planned.”

A major was a major.

She wanted to continue studying oil painting—the medium she was most confident in and enjoyed the most.

Especially since, in her previous life, she had never even attended university and had been entirely self-taught.

This time, she had parents who could support her through college.

She wanted to be ambitious.

She wanted to meet and learn from even greater masters across a wider range of disciplines.

And as time passed, the end of the second semester gradually approached.

“Hey! Hey, the grades are out!”

It was lunchtime after the final exams, when everyone had been lazily relaxing.

At someone’s shout, the students immediately rushed out and sprinted toward the faculty office, where the academic rankings had just been posted.