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Chapter 40 Part 2 - The Mysterious Art Museum

A street artist's life changed when he ended up at a mysterious art museum. DBT,Korean,Novel,Translation,Art,Artist,Slice of life,Poor to Rich,Mystery

As I spoke matter-of-factly, Secretary Kim's eyes wavered before he asked again.

“I apologize for asking repeatedly, but are you certain you don’t know the details of the Lady’s accident?”


Why does this man keep asking?


Who would tell me such a thing?


Unless Lady Kang herself told me, I've never even had the chance to ask about the accident.


“Yes, I really don’t know.”


“·········..Understood.”


“You really won’t tell me?”


“I’m sorry.”


Hmm, now I’m curious.


I thought it was just a young age accident.


There must be some secret I'm not supposed to know.


What does it matter, as long as the client likes my painting?


I'm satisfied just with that.


Catching a mouse by a cow walking backwards – anyway, every mother in the world wants to protect their children and feels happy when someone recognizes their efforts. It's a bit of a generalization, but it’s not entirely wrong. Besides, Lady Kang's eyes always sparkled when talking about her children. Just like my mother.


Whether she's a chaebol family's lady or a lady from a collapsing shack, all mothers in the world are the same. Today, I reconfirmed that truth.


“Then, I’ll be leaving.”


“Oh, Artist Ban.”


“Yes?”


“I might contact you again soon, could I have your bank account details in advance?”


Wow, I hadn’t even discussed the payment for the painting.


‘Well, he’s the chairman of a large hotel group, he’ll probably pay well.’


I wouldn’t mind if he paid even as much as for Monica’s painting. Is that too greedy?


I left the mansion, stretching alone by the wall.


‘I've overcome one mountain. The real game isn’t the price of the portrait, but the next commission.’


I know because Monica hinted at it. President Yoo Min-young plans to entrust me with the decorative art for the W Theater opening next year. Of course, after I successfully complete the portrait commission, but if the client is that satisfied, there should be no problem.


I walked, grinning to myself.


‘Decorative art, huh. How much would a mural alone cost?’


Murals are big.


Big means expensive.


Plus, it’s a giant billboard for my career.


This opportunity is a must-catch for me.


**


Two days later.


Finally, I received a call from President Yoo Min-young.


Her suggestion to meet face-to-face brought me to W Tree Hannam.


Instead of the president's office I had visited last time, I was guided to a French restaurant. Passing by Japanese, Italian Bistro, Korean, and Chinese restaurants on the way, the restaurants with interior designs fitting each country's characteristics seemed too luxurious for people like me to even dare enter.


Someday, I’ll have to bring my mother here and treat her to a meal.


Since it’s a French restaurant, even the door is a work of art.


An employee pushed what I thought was a wall covered in purple wallpaper, and the entire wall spun around its center, opening up.


A restaurant decorated with beautiful white marble. As I was guided down a quiet corridor to a room, I saw President Yoo Min-young waiting for me.


“It’s been a while, President.”


“Ah, Painter Ban.”


Min-young was sitting on a windowsill instead of a seat, gazing outside. Spotting me, she quickly got up and rushed to grab my hand.


Why is she acting like this all of a sudden?


Min-young, with an expression full of joy, said, “Do you know how happy my mom is? Do you realize over 60 painters have tried and failed to satisfy her with a portrait? I just saw her looking over the previous paintings again. She says she feels so good just looking at your painting, spending more time in the living room now. Thanks to you, my parents are chatting in the living room in the evenings, looking at the painting. The atmosphere at home has improved so much!”


Was she always this talkative?


I didn’t expect this from her.


Her excited demeanor is somewhat surprising to me, as I have only seen her composed and polite until now. But I feel proud, realizing a fact I learned from my teacher: ‘Art should be a part of people’s lives, visible to them, and we should give them the opportunity to enjoy it.’


There are people who find joy in my painting.


I feel like I wouldn’t mind not taking payment for the painting.


Well, of course, I should get paid. Reality is reality.


I need to save up quickly to buy a house and get rid of this frustrating low-income label.


Min-young held my hand, chattering away, until the appetizers arrived. She finally sat down, but her face was still excited.


“I asked the chef to pay special attention, please enjoy.”


Wow, what changes when you tell the chef to be careful? Oh right, she’s the president of this place.


“I’ll enjoy it, thank you.”


“The payment for the painting will be made soon. I heard my dad instructing Secretary Kim.”


As I was bringing a forkful of tasty-looking salad to my mouth, I paused. Ah, this terrible monster created by capitalism. My legs start trembling again at the mention of money.


How much will they pay? Should I ask?


No, that might look too eager.


I’ll find out in a few days anyway.


Min-young, smiling, ate a bite of avocado and cabbage she had cut nicely.


“Now, shall we discuss our next commission?”


Here it is.


Finally, the opportunity for a big project, moving beyond small commissions.



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