Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Professor Ko sooyeol hung the picture drawn by his grandson and looked at it with delight.
The painting, painted with ink paint, was so wonderful that he couldnt think he was a the same child who used to eat the ink just a week ago.
He can learn fast.'
Ko Sooyeol was proud of his grandsons thirst for knowledge rather than his grandson's amazing expressive power.
He wasn't childish.
On the first day he tried to understand the characteristics of ink calmly.
He adjusted the concentration of the water by grinding his own Ink stick for all day long.
On the second day, he drew with a brush.
By the time evening came, the entire studio was filled with Korean paper.
By examining them one by one, Sooyeol could see that Hun was learning how to use a brush.
It wasn't a pointless repetition.
He had drawn the line for a whole day to learn how much force he had to give to get the line he wanted.
That tenacious lust for knowledge was admirable.
On the third day he crumpled the paper.
There are several types of Korean paper.
In order to get the texture he wants, Hun crumpled the smooth-surfaced Korean paper to see if ink was absorbed well.
In the process of studying and observing the properties of the materials he used, he found that this child was unusual.
He wasn't just in the realm of talent.
He didn't care about the painting that exudes the aura of a virtuoso.
He knew the drawing process, so he was very excited about how much this child would grow and what kind of drawings he would draw.
As he thought about it, a smile suddenly appeared on his lips.
Knock Knock
Then someone knocked on the door.
Teacher, this is Mirae.
Oh, Professor Jang. Come in.
Sooyeol welcomed his guests.
The door opened, and Professor Jang Mirae, who joined the Department of Painting at the College of Art, Korea University last year, came in.
hehehe."
she smiled mischievously.
When Sooyeol was puzzled, Professor Mirae closed the door and clenched her mouth.
What's wrong?"
I know that teacher is being respectful, but it feels a bit unusual. Please call me like before."
No. You are no longer my student.
Why not? My teacher is still my teacher.
Sooyeol smiled happily.
Jang Mirae, who graduated from the College of Fine Arts at Korea University and obtained a master's degree from the Graduate School of Painting in Edinburgh, England, was one of the most loved students among those taught by Sooyeol.
At the age of 31, she was recognized in academia enough to be an assistant professor in the Department of Painting, College of Art, Korea University.
"okay. What? have you come to trouble me today?
The teacher is too blunt. When did I trouble you?
"Hahaha!"
Mirae could not forget the funerals of her seniors, Hae and Soojin, whom she always followed.
It was hard for her too, but it was not as hard as her teacher who lost both his beloved daughter and his best student and son-in-law.
She was worried because she could not be comfort him in haste, so when she heard that he had come to work, she hurried to the dean's office.
However, she was relieved when Sooyeol, whom she met after two months, smiled like before.
I just wanted to say hi
Mirae, who was about to sit down, stopped suddenly and opened her eyes wide when she saw a picture she had never seen before in the room.
It was an ink painting of a garden with a quiet atmosphere.
The ink paintings in which light, shadow, and reflected light were expressed so well seemed to embrace the spirits of the East and the West.
ink painting.
Could it be that Lee Idaji, a painting expressed with a brush touch that looks dull at first glance?
whose picture is it?
I wondered what the price was for such an attempt.
All these questions came through her mind before she could come to her sense.
She sat on the chair and opened her mouth.
Teacher, this whose painting is this?
Hun drew it for me as a gift.
Hun.? . Hae's son?"
asked Mi-rae Jang in surprise.
At the reaction of Ko Sooyeol, who smiled and nodded his head, she couldn't help but be confused.
Isnt he ten years old?
Is that not good enough?
Wellforsomethinglikethis
There were many children who had a talent for drawing from an early age.
Mirae herself was of that kind.
However, her childhood talents were limited to how accurately she could draw objects.
A child's drawings could not have a clear philosophy and an idea through deep contemplation.
However, Hun's ink paintings was different.
It was not enough to describe the landscape in detail through concentration control and brush painting, but it contained the style of oriental painting as it is.
There are two pine trees standing on the left, just expressing grass and stone walls.
There were no other things.
However, the perfectly expressed light and darkness indicated that light was falling on the empty space, showing a dazzling morning garden.
It was not at the level that a ten-year-old could draw.
Even if it was drawn by a student majoring in Oriental painting at Korea University, it would be still unbelievable.
Mirae could not even think of such an unbelievable fact, and she got immersed in Huns new painting for a while.
Sooyeol watched Mirae and the corner of his lips grew upward.
He poured coffee and placed it in-front of Mirae.
After drinking half of the brewed coffee, Mirae came to her senses.
"Teacher."
Jang Mirae hardened her heart and said.
Next month, there is an exhibition for new artists at the Seoul Museum of Art.
I was asked for a recommendation, so please allow me to give this picture.
Mirae is sure that this unique and warm work will be loved by many people.
She thought that this work should be widely publicized.
"No."
" What?"
But her teacher was adamant.
Im going to hang it here. I cant give up what Hun gave me.
Mirae rolled her eyes.
You cant do that! That's great painting! I'm sure everyone will talk about Hun when it gets exhibited."
"Hmm."
Ko Sooyeol groaned and pondered.
Still, thats not enough. He draw several pictures a day, so lets look for that among them. Are you free tonight?
She looked shocked as if she had been stabbed in the back.
How many pictures does he draw in a day?
Somehow this guy only draws pictures. Did he have a dead ghost attached to him, making him not to stop drawing? Hahaha!"
Ko Sooyeol still joking around made Mirae relieved for a moment.
However, on the other hand, she wondered what kind of child Ko Hun, whom she only knew as the son of her best friend Hae.
If he could paint an ink painting like this, then hes a real talent.
But he must have been painting oriental paintings from a very young age to reach this level.
The light expression and delicate depiction were probably influenced by his grandfather and parents.
"Yes. Ill stop by at six o'clock."
"okay. haha. Then we can go together."
Im fine.
Mirae was just about to leave the room, but her master, Sooyeol called her out.
Professor Jang.
Yes?"
Is the painting so good that you want to hang them in an exhibition.?"
"Yes."
Ha ha ha ha. okay?"
"of course. The teacher knows it too. There is none of my juniors who can draw like that.
"okay? how great is it
Well, its great to the point where it could make my teacher brag like an eight-year-old boy.
Hahahaha!
________________
While I was painting in the living room, I smelled powdery mildew.
Turning my head, a young woman stood there.
Her eyes are big and her lips are red as if they were painted.
It was the first time a young woman came to visit me while I was here.
I didn't even open the door, but seeing her come in, it seems like she's close with grandfather.
I feel sorry for the way you look at me.
She gazes at me with an emotion that I cannot tell whether it is longing or regret.
Ah.'
Grandfather hadn't said anything before, so I thought it was strange.
It looks like there was a story behind it.
If not, then there is no reason to look so sadly.
Mom?
The woman widened her eyes.
Looking at her expression, it seems to be right.
Grandfather and the people in the hospital all think I have lost my memory, so I have to guess to some extent.
"Hello."
"Huh? Yes. Hi."
When I stood up and greeted her in Korean, Ko Hun's mother greeted me in bewilderment.
Little Hun, Grandpa is here!
Just then, Grandfather came in.
When I went out to the front door and greeted him, he hugged me tightly.
It's embarrassing, but it's like this every time, so I felt like I have to give up.
My mom is also here.
Mom..?
He turned his head to see the young woman.
"I.."
Hun, thats not your mother, but the one who works with your grandpa.
"Ah."
I made a mistake.
I misunderstood. sorry."
As I bowed my head to apologize, the woman covered her mouth.
she looks like she's about to cry
she asked grandfather.
He dont remember anything.?
There are things he remember and things he dont, and I was refraining from talking about it, but it seems that he misses both of them.
"OhmyGod."
It's in Korean, so it's hard to understand completely, but it seems that something is going on with this child's parents.
Are they dead?'
If that's the case, everything makes sense.
Otherwise, there is no way that they will not come to see their son, who was in an emergency.
I have been so absorbed in the paintings that I have not been able to think deeply.
"it's okay."
I took my grandfather's hand, who was perplexed, not knowing how to explain it.
Are they dead?
Li..Little Hun.
All I can do right now is to live my best life for the sake this dead child.
I want to express my apologies to this child, who gave his body to this lost soul even a little, by doing my duty as a grandson to this person.
I dont remember very well, but I thought it was strange.
Oh, hun
"it's okay. I have my grandpa."
Tears started to run down from Grandpas eyes again.
Leaving such a good kid alone in this worldAhhhhhh
I'll have to make up my mind now too.
As long as I live as this child, I have to treat this person with sincerity.
Whether it's because of compassion for this person who has lost both his child and grandchild, or because of the affection that has arisen while I've been together for two months.
I don't want to make him sad
Because he gave me love, which was not given to me by my friends, relatives, brothers, and even my parents.
"Don't cry. I will alway be with grandpa."
Ahhhhh..Hun.
Grandpa hugged me tight.
I too hugged him, even though it was hard.
I hoped to hold like that for a while.
But shortly I ran out of breath.
As I floundered, grandpa relaxed his arms and wiped away his tears.
Then who is this?
I asked, looking at the young woman.. who for some reason also crying with her mouth shut.
As she bowed her head, she inhaled her nose, lowered her posture and raised her head.
Thanks to her meeting my eye level, my neck doesn't hurt.
She is shedding blablack tears..
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