I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy

Chapter 44: Sports Day (The End)

After finishing the Golden Bell and eating lunch, we finally got a short break.

While debates over the Golden Bell’s questionable questions raged on around us, our group had no interest in participating.

We returned to the classroom to cool off under the blessed air conditioning.

Soon after, the others joined us, and we casually chatted before the afternoon matches began.

“Was Ha-eun the only one of us who got all the Golden Bell questions right?”

It was Choi Yeseo, dressed in her unique attire, who started the conversation.

“I made it to question 27, though,” chimed in Ha Soyeol.

She didn’t excel academically, but she had an uncanny knack for guessing correctly—almost as if she were blessed by a spirit of luck.

“If there’s such a thing as a guessing god, it must be her,” I thought to myself.

“But seriously, who the heck is Leibniz, and why would we know what kind of fork he liked?!”

Yeseo vented her frustration, calling out the most absurd question from the event.

This seemed like a good time for me to flex my random knowledge.

“Leibniz was a contemporary of Newton. Interestingly, the two of them developed calculus almost simultaneously.”

This time, Hong Yehwa, who had paused her drawing, spoke up.

“But I didn’t know about the fork thing either. How did you figure that out, Ha-eun?”

Her slightly tilted head and curious gaze turned toward me.

The truth? I guessed.

But there was no way I was going to admit that. Moments like these called for confident bluffing.

“Forks became popular in England during the 17th century, which coincides with Leibniz’s era.”

“And what’s the connection?” asked Yeseo, looking skeptical.

I shrugged nonchalantly and continued.

“The most popular fork at the time was the socket fork. It was used for picking up jams or preserved fruits, and the spoon attached to it allowed for scooping.”

“But that’s England,” she countered.

“Let me finish. Later, Germans innovated by curling the prongs into a rounder shape, creating what we now call the spork or spoon-fork.”

Everyone looked impressed, their eyes sparkling as if I’d just delivered a groundbreaking lecture.

Truthfully, I’d made all of that up. I had no idea who invented the spork or its connection to Leibniz.

“So you chose the spoon-fork because of that?”

Ha Soyeol’s question forced me to nod. A bead of sweat trickled down my back.

“It’s all a lie…”

I hadn’t expected them to believe me so wholeheartedly.

With the Golden Bell discussion awkwardly wrapped up, we passed the time chatting about random topics while waiting for the afternoon events.

Meanwhile, Mom and Ms. Yoo Ji-hye had moved to the library. They preferred the quieter atmosphere over the bustling classrooms filled with students.

The library at our school wasn’t just any library—it was a three-story behemoth that could rival a national library.

From the library, one could easily view all three sports fields, thanks to its open design.

“Why is this library so absurdly big…?”

I decided I’d visit them after finishing my marble game.

“Oh, I have to go now—group jump rope’s starting.”

With that, Ha Soyeol and Choi Yeseo stood and left.

“It’s time for flag flipping for us. Are you staying here?”

Lee Doyoon, accompanied by Baek Yuseol, hesitated near the door.

I had no intention of stepping outside into the heat, so I nodded and waved them off.

“Yeah, it’s too hot. Let me know how it goes afterward.”

“Will do. See you later!”

They left, leaving just Hong Yehwa and me in the classroom.

The rest of our classmates seemed busy with their own fun, showing no sign of returning to the classroom anytime soon.

I got up from my seat and moved to the chair beside Yehwa.

Now that I thought about it, we hadn’t had many one-on-one conversations before.

“What’re you drawing?”

I asked casually. Yehwa glanced up at me, her cheeks slightly flushed, with a faint smile on her lips.

“I’m preparing for the Korean National Art Competition (국전). It’s in July, so I’m brainstorming ideas for the theme.”

“The National Art Competition? That’s ambitious. Wouldn’t it be easier to go for the Youth Division? You’d win that easily.”

She looked at me, stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter.

“No, the National Art Competition is open to all artists in Korea. I’d have to compete within my age category.”

As I listened to my own excuses, I realized how silly I sounded.

Yehwa, picking up on my embarrassment, chuckled again.

“Aren’t you in the same position, though? Competing internationally at seventeen?”

That shut me up. She wasn’t wrong.

“I wish I could enter something like the World Art Prize,” she continued. “But I’m just not good enough yet.”

Yehwa was undoubtedly exceptional compared to her peers. But that was the catch—her talent was still framed as exceptional for her age.

The nickname “God’s Hand” might sound impressive, but in the art world, she was still like a novice warrior in a wuxia story.

Even so, she’d likely perform well on Korea’s most competitive stages.

“Have you decided on a theme yet, or are you just brainstorming?”

“Just brainstorming for now. I still don’t know what to draw.”

Her hand resumed sketching lines on the paper.

“Want some help? Just simple advice, nothing major.”

“Really? That’d be great. Are you sure, though? Weren’t you busy with the Prize?”

“Already submitted my work. I’ve got plenty of time now.”

“Then, thanks. I’d appreciate it.”

She handed me a mechanical pencil, but I shook my head.

“You’ll be the one drawing. I’ll just give feedback.”

Pulling my chair closer to hers, I noticed her cheeks turn a shade redder. What was that about?

“Skip still life, portraits, or objects.”

“Why? They’re simple and good.”

“Sure, but have you ever studied anatomy or realism in detail?”

“I’ve practiced, but not deeply.”

That was my point. Yehwa had always excelled at landscapes—nature scenes like trees and oceans.

“If I were you, I’d try something natural. How about an oasis in the desert?”

“An oasis? I’ve never drawn one before.”

“God’s Hand shouldn’t complain so much. Just sketch a rough draft. I’ll help.”

I felt a little arrogant saying that, but I was the best resource she had.

Yehwa nodded and began sketching diligently.

By the time we were halfway through refining her sketch, I realized it was time for my marble game.

“I have to go. Maybe Ms. Lee A-reum can help you more—she’s probably in the teachers’ office.”

“Alright. Good luck, and win your match!”

I’d never lost a marble game in my life. Then again, winning games had always come naturally to me.

On my way out, a thought struck me.

“By the way, that painting at your place—what was it called?”

“Oh, Ho-seong? Why?”

“Think I could visit after finals next week?”

With 허무설 submitted, I was curious about that painting. It felt like a long-overdue assignment.

“Sure! My dad actually wanted to meet you anyway.”

Not that her dad interested me; my focus was entirely on Ho-seong.

“Great. See you later.”

As I left the classroom, I ran into Ms. Lee A-reum in the hallway.

“Were you in the classroom this whole time? You should watch some of the matches!”

“Are you trying to kill me with the heat, Ms. Lee?”

“Wow, dramatic? Anyway, heading to the marble game?”

“Yeah. By the way, Yehwa’s alone in the classroom—could you check her work? She’s drawing an oasis.”

“Sure thing.”

With a wave, she headed toward the classroom, while I walked toward the sports field.

The marble game had 20 participants, including a few familiar faces: Ha Soyeol and Choi Yeseo.

“…Weren’t you guys supposed to be at different events?”

“We traded spots!”

“No, Yeseo, it wasn’t trading—it was bartering.”

“Neither of those is the point!”

Before I could grill them further, the game began.

The rules were simple: teams of three or four competed to collect marbles from other teams through traditional games like yut-nori, spinning tops, or hoop rolling.

Thanks to Ha Soyeol’s overwhelming performance, our team steamrolled through every match and claimed victory in just 30 minutes.

As for how Soyeol and Yeseo ended up in this event?

Apparently, they’d coerced other participants into swapping spots.

I decided not to ask for details. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.

Later, Yehwa happily told me she’d made significant progress on her sketch, thanks to Ms. Lee’s help. I didn’t pry further.

On the way home, I stopped by a convenience store with Mom.

“Son, don’t you think you’re surrounded by too many girls?”

“What nonsense. Pick your parasol already.”

I sighed, shaking my head.

Who had time for girls when my art schedule was packed to the brim?