I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy

Chapter 64: Banquet Hall (3)

“Who are you?”

I casually asked the old man, assuming he was the chairman.

Uncle Hong Jin-hu answered instead.

“He’s the younger brother of the S Group chairman. Currently, he serves as the director of a private comprehensive arts high school.”

“I expected as much, but it still feels surreal.”

The previously unknown director had revealed himself to be this elderly man before me.

“Ha-ha. Thanks for introducing me, Mr. Jin-hu.”
“Think nothing of it.”

The director laughed warmly and patted Uncle Hong on the shoulder.

“We’ve already exchanged greetings earlier. No need to do it again.”

Uh, excuse me? I didn’t get any introduction.

“But since this young man is meeting me for the first time… A pleasure. I’m Lee Ji-chul, the director of the Comprehensive Arts High School.”

“Ah, I’m Lee Ha-eun.”

I reluctantly shook his outstretched, wrinkled hand.

“What’s with this guy? Hard to pin him down.”

As I stood there shaking his hand, he suddenly said:

“So, you’re the one behind Vanishing Snow.”

His previously warm gaze turned cold and expressionless.

Fine. That was better.

This cautious demeanor matched mine, and it helped me settle the unease I felt moments ago.

“Ah, it’s not every day you meet someone this famous.”

Lee Ji-chul chuckled while stroking his neatly groomed mustache, then released my hand and rested both on his cane.

“You were curious about why The Siren is here, weren’t you?”

I hesitated to answer. It was always wise to tread carefully around unsettling individuals.

“Ho-ho-ho, no need to be so tense. Someone might think I’m about to eat you alive.”

I chose not to respond to that either.

“A sharp mind. I like that.”

Lee Ji-chul slowly ran his hand along the transparent case encasing The Siren. His gaze held a strange sense of longing.

“Today is my granddaughter’s birthday.”

Wait, seriously? Is it really her birthday? Damn, I didn’t bring a gift.

“Should I just give her cash?”

But then again, as the granddaughter of a director, she probably wasn’t short on money.

“This is a dilemma.”

While I was lost in these idle thoughts, Lee Ji-chul continued.

“It’s also the anniversary of my daughter-in-law’s passing.”

Oh.

“Why did the conversation take such a dark turn?”

This was becoming awkward. All I wanted was to know why the masterpiece was here.

“Ho-ho-ho. Don’t worry too much. It happened long ago, so it doesn’t bother me anymore.”
“That can’t be true. Losing a loved one doesn’t change with time. It’s not that it doesn’t hurt anymore; you just grow numb to it.”

“…True. I suppose I was mistaken.”

My response seemed to resonate with him, judging by the way he nodded.

But seriously, could he just answer my question already?

Unfortunately, my wish wasn’t granted as he continued speaking.

“Isn’t it cruel? For someone’s birthday to also be the day of their mother’s death.”
“Yes, that’s… unfortunate.”

How much longer would this meaningless conversation go on?

“So, I wanted to celebrate her birthday, even in a modest way.”

“I think your idea of ‘modest’ might be a bit off.”

I raised a skeptical eyebrow, but he kept talking.

“This isn’t the director I imagined.”

As I grew tired of engaging, his attention shifted to Uncle Hong, who now looked like he was struggling to deal with the increasingly sentimental old man.

“There are plenty of eccentric people in the world, but why are they all around me?”

Ignoring the two of them, I turned my focus back to The Siren.

The painting depicted a siren singing on a rock in the middle of the sea.

The siren sat on a jagged rock, her lower half shimmering with vibrant, iridescent colors—clearly inhuman, like the classic image of a mermaid.

But instead of appearing grotesque or unsettling, she looked radiant, almost enchanting.

Her face was turned upward as if about to sing. She wore a bright smile, her sapphire-like eyes forming crescent moons.

She seemed happy, carefree, utterly unbothered.

In stark contrast, the background of the painting stood out.

The sea was a dark, oppressive navy blue, almost black. Thunder and lightning roared above her, threatening to crash down at any moment.

Heavy rain poured from storm clouds, dense and ominous, as though nature itself had materialized to destroy her.

Yet, despite the hostile surroundings, the siren sang with a smile.

Perhaps the forces of nature were jealous of her.

Jealous of her light, which they could never possess.
Jealous of her smile, which they could never mimic.
Jealous of her song, which they could never sing.

In a way, nature mirrored my past self. I, too, once envied others.

People who effortlessly possessed happiness that eluded me.

Their laughter never ceased, their joy began anew every morning.

Yes, I envied them… I think.

“Not anymore, though.”

As I reflected on the past, a hand tapped my shoulder.

“I purchased The Siren.”

“…Did you force them to sell it?”

“Ho-ho. Of course not. They were probably relieved to part with it.”

Lee Ji-chul had approached while I was lost in thought, a smile lingering as he gazed at the painting.

“Our country is sick. There’s nothing we can entrust to it anymore. That’s why I took it.”

“To sell it to another country, I suppose.”

His next words carried a sharpness that matched the dangerous gleam in his eyes.

“So, in the end, you coerced them into selling it,” I said flatly.

“Ho-ho, young folks don’t quite understand the subtleties of such matters yet.”

Lee Ji-chul chuckled and patted my shoulder once again.

It seemed he had no intention of giving me a straight answer about why the masterpiece was here. I’d have to find out later.

“Tsk. Well, at least it wasn’t a wasted trip.”

Seeing the remnants of my past life here stirred mixed feelings.

But above all, I felt a strange sense of nostalgia.

Internally, I bid farewell to The Siren, silently promising to return another day.

I exhaled deeply and turned away.

There wasn’t much reason to stay here any longer.

“My parents and Ha-yoon will probably spend the night here. Maybe I’ll just meet Hong Yehwa and head back.”

As I considered leaving, Lee Ji-chul’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Lee Ha-eun, did you receive a certain message recently?”
“I thought it was spam and deleted it.”
“Ha-ha. I’m not fond of liars, you know.”

Tsk. This old fox.

“Just follow the instructions in the message. Once the new semester begins, let’s meet. I’ll tell you about most of the things you’re curious about.”
“…Fine. I’ll see you then.”

“Did I just get marked by this guy?”

Lee Ji-chul’s expression returned to the calm, grandfatherly demeanor he’d shown earlier.

“Let’s head back to the banquet hall together, shall we? You’re not planning to stay here much longer, are you?”

I exchanged a brief glance with Uncle Hong.

Both of us cracked a smile at the absurdity of the situation.

“Ah, I didn’t bring a gift, though.”
“No matter. We have more than enough presents as it is.”

Lee Ji-chul waved off my concern with a lighthearted laugh, and we followed him back to the hall.

Despite the late hour, the hall was still bustling with people.

Most of them seemed to be influential figures, with a few faces recognizable from the media.

“…Should I throw Ha-yoon a birthday party like this someday?”

The reactions would definitely be entertaining.

“Since you’re already here, why not stay and enjoy yourself? Or, like your family, you could stay overnight.”

“No, thank you. I’m already grateful enough to have been let in without an invitation.”

“Well, I was the one who let you in,” Uncle Hong chimed in.

“Please, Uncle, read the room.”

Lee Ji-chul nodded at our farewell and moved away, blending into the crowd.

It seemed he preferred to maintain a guise of being an ordinary elder here.

Now, what should I do?

My main reason for coming had already been resolved.

“Maybe I’ll just say hello and leave.”

I scanned the room and spotted the group of young people from earlier.

Around 20 of them were gathered in a circle, seated around a large round table.

At the center of it all were Ha-yoon and Hong Yehwa.

Aside from those two, three others were seated at the table, apparently leading the group.

“That guy…”

The one I’d noticed earlier was still acting overly familiar with Ha-yoon.

Even more annoying, he seemed to be flirting with Hong Yehwa as well.

“What should I do? He’s too young for a ‘cliffside retirement.’”

His appearance alone made him look older than the others around him, though.

“Sigh… I just wanted to say hi and leave.”

Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I sauntered toward the group.

“Tsk. I should’ve dressed better.”

My plain white shirt and black pants clearly stood out among the more formal attire of the guests.

Yet no one approached me. Perhaps they dismissed me as an outsider or deemed me beneath notice.

“Excuse me, sorry. Just passing through.”

I squeezed my way toward the table, feeling slightly drained from the effort.

“Ha-eun! Over here!”
“Huh? Brother?!”

I managed to reach the inside of the circle.

There were plenty of empty seats, but it seemed you needed permission to sit at one of them.

Of the 20 gathered, only five were seated, while the rest stood.

With my arrival, the seated number rose to six.

The mysterious man who’d intruded on their group? That was me.

“Who are you? How did you—”
“He’s my friend, and Ha-yoon’s older brother.”

One of the standing boys glared at me, only to back down immediately after Hong Yehwa’s sharp retort.

Ha-yoon scooted over to my left, and I found myself sitting between her and Hong Yehwa.

“Brother, why are you here?”

The group was buzzing with murmurs, but Ha-yoon, as usual, seemed oblivious.

“I had something to take care of. And I wanted to see my little sister.”

Her hair was a bit messy from all the fun she’d been having, so I reached out to fix it. She grinned.

“You’re the best.”
“Of course! You came all the way here just to see me!”

I chuckled and patted her head.

Screech.

At that moment, I noticed a flash of red hair beside me.

“What are you doing?”
“…Is my hair messy too?”
“Your hairpin’s pretty.”

I played dumb. Fixing her hair here would only make things worse.

The death glares from the others were intense enough as it was.

Ignoring the now-pouting Hong Yehwa, I scanned the table.

“Is that Lee Ji-chul’s granddaughter?”

A young woman, seated at the far side of the table, was staring at me with wide eyes.

Meeting her gaze, I blurted out without thinking:

“What are you looking at?”

Thus, the arrival of the rude, unapologetic Lee Ha-eun was complete.