LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 45
Chapter 45: Ho-seong (1)
A week had passed since the surprisingly refreshing Sports Day ended.
“Wow… did these scores go off the deep end?”
“Those jerks should’ve answered with genuine knowledge, not cheap tricks.”
“For real. I basically crammed half a library into my head beforehand—doesn’t that count as cheating?”
Midterms—a time when students collectively lose their minds while teachers walk around grinning from ear to ear.
“Miss! You’ve got to allow multiple correct answers for this question!”
“Seriously, what are the similarities between Confucius and Laozi supposed to be?!”
“Why do we have to learn ethics in the first year?! Why did I even pick this subject?!”
This was supposed to be an arts school. Why did it feel like a humanities school in disguise?
In fact, it was even harder than regular schools since we had both standard academic subjects and specialized tests for our respective majors.
Of course, that didn’t apply to me. Heh.
I breezed through the academic exams and nailed the specialized tests.
“Heh… hehe…”
By the end of the school day, Choi Yeseo had achieved an almost transcendental state of detachment.
“Hi, Eun,” greeted Ha Soyeol, who seemed as carefree as ever.
As for Hong Yehwa, she had long since attained enlightenment.
But then, she was good at studying, so she had nothing to worry about. As expected of the ace of the Fine Arts Department.
It was a bit surreal to see someone exuding that level of composure—especially after midterms.
As we walked home, Yehwa’s name suddenly popped into my head.
“Oh, Yehwa. Is today okay for a visit?”
“…Huh? Visit?”
She looked startled, her body flinching slightly as she turned to face me, still dazed from the post-exam fog.
“Uh, yeah… it’s fine.”
She answered as she pulled out her phone. The screen displayed a dial labeled Dad.
“Wow, formal much.”
I didn’t intend to meddle in their father-daughter relationship, but I couldn’t help feeling like it was a bit stiff.
As Yehwa made her call, Soyeol and Yeseo perked up, their eyes gleaming with curiosity.
“What? Where? Just the two of you? Why?”
Great. Soyeol’s eyes were starting to lose their usual spark.
“I told you to respect the queue! This… this hussy—!”
Tch.
Before she could finish, I reflexively clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Don’t stick your tongue out.”
When I finally released her, I grabbed her cheek and pulled.
“Ow! Let’s go already!”
“Just hold still for a second.”
After a few seconds, I let go, and Yeseo rubbed her reddened cheek, grumbling.
“Geez. Did I say something that bad?”
“It’s not what you’re thinking, alright?”
Why did I feel like I had to explain myself to them? I had no idea, but I worked hard to calm them down.
“If you’re curious, why not come along? Yehwa said we could bring friends.”
“Cool.”
“Thank goodness…”
Yehwa’s casual invitation defused the tension, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief.
“So, what’s the reason for you two meeting up?”
Now in a better mood, Yeseo wasted no time prying further.
Yehwa and I exchanged glances before shrugging. There wasn’t much point in hiding it.
“She has a painting called Ho-seong at her house. Apparently, it looks similar to my Do-won-hyang.”
“Yeah. It’s not one of Ha-eun’s works, but the quality is too similar.”
By that, Yehwa likely meant it was almost a masterpiece—just shy of being recognized as one.
“Oh, so it’s about the painting. Nothing else?”
Yeseo’s expression seemed oddly uncomfortable—was she holding something back?
“…Nothing else,” Yehwa replied, turning her head and scratching her cheek.
“Hmph. We’ll revisit this in the Room of Truth later.”
At some point, even Soyeol joined in pressuring Yehwa.
What was even going on anymore?
Their silly antics continued until Yehwa abruptly stopped in front of a towering building.
“We’re here.”
“…Whoa.”
Standing before us was a newly constructed luxury high-rise, its size and grandeur almost overwhelming.
“I knew you were well-off, but this…”
“Isn’t this kind of normal for Seoul?” Yehwa asked, avoiding eye contact.
“Normal? Sure, if you’re loaded…”
We entered the lobby and took the elevator to a high floor.
This high-rise was mentioned in the original story as the future home of Lee Doyoon, so it was no surprise it cost a fortune.
“Someday, I might live in a place like this,” I mused silently.
Not impossible, but certainly a long way off. I’d need to grow up first, for one thing.
As Yehwa unlocked the front door, I reflexively said, “Hello! Thank you for having us—”
But there was no one inside.
“They’re probably in the study,” Yehwa said, walking in without hesitation.
Leaving us hanging, just like that.
While I debated what to do, Soyeol and Yeseo busied themselves exploring the house.
“Wow! They even used marble for this part!”
“Look, a shark painting!”
I decided it was better not to comment. Instead, I quietly followed Yehwa’s trail.
A slightly open door caught my eye.
“That must be the study,” I thought.
The house was massive—easily three times the size of older high-rises.
From inside the room came faint voices.
“I’ll prepare dinner for everyone. Eat with your friends.”
“Okay, Dad. Thanks.”
“Good. Now, I suppose it’s time to meet this Ha-eun friend of yours.”
“Do you think Ha-eun could identify the artist of Ho-seong?”
After a brief pause, the older voice replied.
“Hmm… I doubt it.”
“I see…”
“Well, come on in, Ha-eun. You’ve eavesdropped enough, haven’t you?”
“!!”
Caught.
Laughing sheepishly, I stepped inside.
“Your hair was peeking out,” the man said.
“Ah, I see.”
Sitting before me was Hong Jin-hu, Yehwa’s father—a character from the original story and a notable figure even in this world.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Hong Jin-hu, Yehwa’s father.”
He extended a hand, and I shook it politely.
“I’m Lee Ha-eun.”
“Ha! You’re scrawnier than I expected.”
“Artists tend to live sedentary lives.”
“Hmm…”
Jin-hu squinted at me, his gaze sharp. I raised an eyebrow in return.
“I thought you were just a pup based on the videos,” he said.
“Turns out, I’m a wolf cub.”
At that, Jin-hu burst into hearty laughter.
Even Yehwa looked baffled by the exchange.
With that, our formal introductions began.
Yehwa wore a perplexed expression as if she couldn’t understand what was happening.
“My apologies for the lack of proper introductions,” Hong Jin-hu said, standing and adjusting his suit.
“I’m Hong Jin-hu, known as the Sun of Atlantis. I apologize for inviting you so suddenly and informally.”
He extended his hand again, this time with a firm grip.
The respect and formality he showed, even toward someone much younger, seemed to stem from his position.
I mirrored his action, shaking his hand firmly while shedding my usual casual demeanor.
“I’m Lee Ha-eun, the creator of Do-won-hyang.”
“This is… something,” Jin-hu muttered, letting go of my hand and gazing at me with a puzzled expression.
I offered a faint smile.
“Not a cub, but already a grown wolf, huh?”
His chuckle prompted a shrug from me.
“When will you be returning to Atlantis?”
Jin-hu’s laughter stopped, and he sat back down. With a nod, he gestured for me to speak casually.
“Likely in July…”
“Because of the Prize? Are the planets participating this time?”
“Right, you’re competing too, aren’t you? Some of them might join, but I’m not one of them.”
“Got it,” I replied.
Our cryptic conversation seemed to leave Yehwa increasingly bewildered.
Sensing her confusion, Jin-hu gently suggested she rejoin the others.
Once Yehwa left, he leaned back, a deep, resonant laugh filling the study.
“I was only curious at first, but meeting you has been quite revealing.”
Standing, Jin-hu walked over to retrieve a painting.
Where had he been keeping it?
“Why don’t we hear Professor Lee Ha-eun’s thoughts on this?”
With the playfulness of a child, Jin-hu removed the cloth covering the painting.
For someone like him to be called “Father” by Yehwa still felt odd.
Shouldn’t it be “Dad” or something less formal?
Not that it was my business.
I directed my attention to the painting on the desk.
Ho-seong (呼聲)—”The Call.”
The artwork depicted a tiger roaring from atop a mountain.
It was simple in composition yet carried an uncanny aura—just like Do-won-hyang.
“What do you think? Does anything stand out?”
Jin-hu’s eager eyes focused on me as I began.
“This wasn’t done by an amateur. But it doesn’t seem professional either.”
“Hmm, I noticed that too.”
“Please, hear me out until the end,” I said, tapping the painting’s frame.
“Not a professional?”
I hummed in thought. This was tricky. The quality ruled out amateurs, but it also lacked the meticulous seriousness of professionals.
What remained was…
“An artist in my league,” I concluded internally.
“The artist behind Ho-seong is someone like me.”
“Your reasoning?”
“My eyes. And the same strange dissonance is present in Do-won-hyang.”
Jin-hu ran his hand along the frame thoughtfully.
“It’s true. Compared to ‘masterpieces,’ both Ho-seong and Do-won-hyang have a different energy—almost otherworldly.”
“…?”
Wait. Did he just say “masterpieces”?
“Something wrong?” Jin-hu asked, tilting his head.
“No… You mentioned ‘masterpieces’—do you know what those are?”
“Of course. They’re among the priciest artworks in the market.”
What?
That threw me off completely. “Masterpieces” and “masterworks” were terms I had thought exclusive to me.
“Do you also know about ‘masterworks’?”
When I asked cautiously, Jin-hu nodded.
“Naturally. Aren’t they the seven rarest paintings in the world?”
The instant he said that, a chill ran down my spine.
This was new. None of this was in the original story.
And if those “seven masterworks” were what I thought they were, they had to be…
my creations from my previous life.
The first thought that popped into my head was:
“…Does this mean I’ll never have to worry about money again?”
If I could recreate just one of those masterworks, I might even crack the world’s top 100 richest people list.
Still, pondering my past life seemed pointless now.
This life was the one that mattered.
Even so, when I thought about my old paintings…
I wanted to see them again. Especially…
[The Angel].