I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy
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Chapter 54 Table of contents

My press conference video spread across YouTube, and my subscriber count surged once again.

“Gaining 50,000 subscribers in a single day is pretty unusual.”

Though it’s a small number compared to the global population, it’s still 50,000 people subscribing within a single day.

Refreshing the YouTube page repeatedly, I watched my subscriber count climb in real time.

It was genuinely a satisfying moment.

Following the press conference, it was inevitable that various media outlets and broadcasting stations would flock to me. But I hadn’t appeared on any broadcasts since.

I’d ignored them completely.

They should’ve been grateful I even attended once. If it weren’t for Hong Jin-Hoo, I wouldn’t have gone at all.

Journalists spun conspiracy theories about me, but...

Unfortunately for them, do they even know who I am?

A YouTuber with 1.75 million subscribers. A pioneer rewriting the history of Korean art.

Someone close to Drawing Korea and maintaining a business relationship with Atlantis.

They really picked the wrong target.

As for what happened afterward? I wasn’t too interested, so I don’t know the details.

But there’s one thing I do know.

From now on, age is just a number.

At 17 years old, I’m no longer bound by limitations. I’m standing alongside professional artists—or rather, I’m even above them.

“Ugh, I can’t look at this anymore.”

Every site was flooded with posts praising me and Hollow Snow.

Some were from people who had seen it in person; others had only seen pictures.

But it seemed that those who had seen it in person lent their voices more strongly, bringing even more attention to this Prize.

The organizers even personally thanked me for drawing in such a large crowd.

I guess this could be considered a positive outcome.

Stretching lazily, I flopped onto the living room sofa.

There wasn’t much left for me to do. All I had to do now was wait for the awards and return to Korea.

“But what should I do about Hollow Snow?”*

Should I transfer ownership to the organizers? Or sell it?

Honestly, it doesn’t matter either way. Money isn’t an issue—I already have more than enough.

But just giving it away seems... wasteful, doesn’t it?

After all, I did spend some time creating it.

Well, I’ll decide after the awards are over.

“What should I do now?”

I had nothing to do. If I left the hotel, reporters would swarm me, so I couldn’t go outside.

If my face showed up somewhere, it’d just create more public buzz.

This is no easy situation.

I was alone in the lodging. My parents were out on a date.

My sister had gone out with her friends.

Ms. Lee Ah-Reum? She was running around, busy as ever.

Her piece Gardens of the World was a masterpiece, and apparently, people were reaching out to her left and right.

As someone with a name in the art world, she couldn’t help being busy.

Hong Jin-Hoo? He said he was “concerned about his daughter” and went off to “stalk” her (basically acting as her guardian).

No one was left.

Of course, the kids invited me to hang out too, but...

As I lay on the sofa, rolling my eyes, I saw the view outside the window—and the crowd gathered below.

“Look at them. What do you think would happen if I went out?”

Ignoring rumors is easy, but dealing with crowds? Not so much.

The kids saw the crowd too and grimaced.

They suggested we hang out later when the people were gone.

But honestly, will they ever leave?

“Well, they do seem to disperse by evening.”

Since I chose to isolate myself, I’ll have to endure this boredom.

Ah, I’m so bored. Isn’t there something to do?

Just as I was thinking that—

Knock knock knock.

There was a knock at the front door.

Who could it be? I dragged my sluggish body off the sofa and walked toward the door.

“Who is it?”

As I called out, a voice came from the other side.

“It’s Ye-Hwa. Can you open the door?”

Hong Ye-Hwa? What’s she doing here? Didn’t she go out with the others?

I opened the door.

There stood Hong Ye-Hwa, holding a large frame in her hands.

“Didn’t you go with the others?”

Scratching her cheek awkwardly, she laughed.

“Um, I realized I had something else to do.”

I chuckled and gestured for her to come inside.

“Come on in...”

“T-thank you...”

“No one else is here. What do you want to drink? Coffee or peach iced tea?”

Looking around nervously, Ye-Hwa mumbled “iced tea” and sat on the living room sofa.

I poured myself a coffee and her iced tea, then sat on the sofa across from her.

Clink.

“So, what brings you here?”

“Well, um...”

Hesitating, Ye-Hwa cleared her throat several times but couldn’t quite say anything.

It looked like she wanted to brag about winning the National Art Exhibition.

In times like these, it’s best to speak first.

Crossing my arms, I grinned.

“Congratulations on winning the National Art Exhibition. Well done.”

“Oh... uh, th-thanks. How did you know?”

Caught off guard, Ye-Hwa stammered out her gratitude.

“Thanks to Hong Jin-Hoo. He was practically showing off with photos. He’s such a proud dad.”

Seeing her face flush, I chuckled.

“How was it? The National Art Exhibition. Any masterpieces?”

“Not really. Honestly, I still don’t know what makes a masterpiece. But...”

“But?”

“I’m sure there weren’t any. Not even anything close to Dohwonhyang.

Her serious gaze met mine.

I tapped my arm thoughtfully as I returned her stare.

“Even the National Art Exhibition didn’t have anything close to Dohwonhyang?”*

Maybe everyone this season was aiming for the Prize?

That seems likely. Otherwise, it doesn’t make sense.

I hadn’t expected masterpieces at the exhibition, but I thought there’d at least be something close to Dohwonhyang.

Apparently not.

“...Have my standards gotten too high?”

Maybe this is just average.

“You’ve been staring for too long...”

Her words broke my train of thought.

Noticing her blushing again, I laughed.

“Can I take a look at the picture you’ve been carefully holding?”

“Oh, yes. Of course.”

Gently, she placed the framed painting on the table.

“The size looks like 24 inches. Decent enough.”

This is by my standards, of course. Others might differ.

It seemed she followed the original design she’d shown before.

It was good enough to win the National Art Exhibition.

With some guidance, she could probably create a painting on par with Dohwonhyang.

“It doesn’t seem out of reach. Just a bit of refinement...”

When you see talent like this, you can’t help but want to teach.

“How is it? What do you think, Ha-Eun?”

She looked slightly nervous, so I teased her a bit.

“How would I know? It’s your painting. I’m not really in a position to judge.”

I’m not a judge, after all.

“But I’d like your feedback. It’ll help me see what needs fixing.”

Is this why professors are so eager to critique graduate students?

After a brief hesitation, I nodded and began.

“First of all—”

Thus began the feedback session.

“See this line here? It curves up a bit unnaturally.”

“The coloring is great, but the shading is too heavy.”

“This area feels a bit empty. Maybe add one or two more structures.”

Ye-Hwa diligently wrote down every word I said, listening attentively.

But of course, feedback has to end with praise.

“Even without these tweaks, there’s nothing majorly wrong. It’s a painting worthy of winning.”

At my sudden compliment, Ye-Hwa lowered her head, mumbling something I couldn’t quite hear.

“Honestly, if you find a mentor, you could start creating masterpieces as early as next year.”

Hearing this, Ye-Hwa looked up with bright eyes.

“A mentor?”

“Yeah, a teacher. Someone to guide you.”

In the original story, Ye-Hwa became Ms. Lee Ah-Reum’s student. Should I suggest that?

“How about Ms. Lee Ah-Reum? She’s from the same artistic style and has already created masterpieces.”

“Ms. Ah-Reum... she’s fine, but...”

Her expression darkened slightly, looking dissatisfied.

A trembling voice broke the silence.

“C-could I learn from you instead, Ha-Eun?”

“Me?”

Caught off guard? I’m not even in her art style. Seeing my puzzled look, she continued.

“Well, it’s just... of the people I know, you seem the best option...”

Her voice trailed off.

Watching her for a moment, I shrugged.

“Sure, why not?”

“Really? Thank you!”

Seeing her brighten up so quickly, I couldn’t help but laugh.

I hadn’t planned on taking on a student, but...

“On one condition.”

After all, my time is valuable. She’ll have to understand that.

Hearing this, her face tensed again.

“My coaching time will be limited and irregular. And the lessons will be at my studio.”

“Got it.”

“And the most important condition...”

“Yeah?”

The atmosphere grew tense as I finally spoke.

“Ms. Lee Ah-Reum will also be teaching you. Is that okay?”

“...That’s it? Of course, that’s fine!”

“Good. I’m not in your style anyway, and my main focus is brushwork.”

“Ah.”

Understanding dawned on her face.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Well then, I’ll look forward to working with you, my student.”

“...Do I have to call you ‘teacher’?”

Of course. Show respect to your mentor!

And so, in the middle of America, we became a master and apprentice.

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