Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Spring at Eight Years Old (3)
I just drew one picture. But the entire school was in an uproar.
Calligraphy and painting. The one who taught me these was Jimun Seo-saeng. I started learning them like play, under the pretext of maintaining the dignity of an absolute being, but at some point, I became completely absorbed. This was Jimun Seo-saeng's intention.
Ten years later, Jimun Seo-saeng revealed his intention in recommending calligraphy and painting.
-Knowing characters and writing them directly gives you the power to understand the profundity of internal energy techniques and transmit them yourself. Comprehending painting clarifies your inner heart and makes imagination vivid, showing you the path of cultivation. Martial arts manuals are written in characters or pictures.
-When you become the writer rather than the reader, you come to understand the contents more deeply.
His words were true, and from that point, I began systematically organizing the Heavenly Demon Divine Art.
'I've never drawn a picture better than Jimun Seo-saeng.'
If you ask me to name an absolute master in painting, I would unhesitatingly choose Jimun Seo-saeng. He was at a level where he could imbue meaning even in a single line drawn sideways.
'But with just this...'
My painting, which I thought didn't even reach half of Jimun Seo-saeng's level, had now stirred up the entire school.
In the unsettled state, when the third period ended, the homeroom teacher called me to the principal's office.
"Huh? Mother."
Mother was there. Around the glass table, on the sofas sat the principal, a benevolent-looking man in his late fifties, the homeroom teacher, and next to them the vice-principal with a greedy-looking impression, while Mother smiled and waved her hand when she saw me.
"Son, sit here."
I gave a casual greeting to the teachers and sat next to Mother.
'As expected, it's because of the painting?'
On the table lay the picture I had drawn. I'm not particularly pleased with it. I dislike the rough color quality characteristic of crayons.
When I frowned while looking at the painting, Mother stroked my back and asked,
"Did you draw this, son?"
"Yes. I just drew it casually."
"Can you draw it again here?"
I think I understand the meaning of this gathering. They want to see it directly. It seems the others can't believe the homeroom teacher's words.
"Na Uram, I was amazed by your painting skills. With such talent, you deserve to receive a better education, so we want to see it directly. Can you draw it once more?"
"What do you mean by better education?"
"You can go to an arts school as a special talent student."
My ears perked up. That means I can escape elementary school. I observed Mother's expression. Despite always being humble, her shoulders were squared with pride.
'There's no business like bragging about one's child.'
'Good. I wasn't satisfied with it anyway.'
I grabbed the painting on the table. And tore it up just like that.
"Uram."
The homeroom teacher was the most surprised.
"I'll draw it again."
There was something I had noticed when I entered here. On the principal's large desk were a brush, an inkstone, and ink. Whether he liked classical culture that kept the Four Treasures of the Study nearby, the interior of the principal's office was also neat and plain.
"Principal, do you have paper?"
I can see other things, but not paper.
"I have Hanji if that's okay..."
"That's perfect. Please give me that."
The Hanji the principal found was of top quality. I spread it on the sofa table, ground the inkstone to make ink, and finally picked up the brush.
-The brush is like a sword. If you cannot make it go where your heart desires, you cannot win this battle.
Jimun Seo-saeng's words came to mind. He really was a smart person. When I first held a brush and drew a picture, the paper was slashed and vomited ink. I remember feeling unpleasant because that appearance resembled my own corpse that had died miserably.
Painting and calligraphy are battles with myself.
-The highest level is not winning but becoming one.
I had not achieved this. I always defeated myself. I defeated myself hundreds of times and heard admiration and praise from those around me, but Jimun Seo-saeng was disappointed.
And in this life, I held a brush for the first time.
The surrounding air sank low. I could feel the principal struggling to hold his breath. It was the same in my previous life. When I held a brush, the atmosphere became the same as when I held a sword. Because that's how I was taught.
The energy changed again. A frosty energy spread out. When this energy calmed down and condensed into killing intent, the battle would begin. My painting would start only then.
But there was a different gaze.
'Mother?'
It's warm. A warm stream that doesn't suit the battlefield enters my heart. I instinctively accepted that energy. The sharp energy dulled. My heart calmed down and became peaceful.
The brush moved. I transferred exactly what I felt in my heart onto the paper. The hand holding the brush calmly expressed my inner feelings.
When the brush that touched the paper lifted. The surroundings were quiet.
Then, Mother's touch reached my back. She stroked downward as if soothing a baby.
Only then did my painting enter my eyes. A single zelkova tree on a hill receiving a gentle breeze. There was no dragon resembling me, no eyes or teeth expressing spirit. Nevertheless, I felt a touching emotion that stirred the heart.
I think I understand.
-The highest level is not winning but becoming one.
Jimun Seo-saeng.
'I've now realized your words.'
Suddenly, I missed him terribly.
***
One month after entering elementary school. In the evening, the homeroom teacher came to our house.
"Mother, Uram's painting won first place in the national competition."
"Oh my! Thank you!"
The homeroom teacher and Mother held hands and rejoiced together.
I don't feel particularly moved. The only person who can evaluate my paintings is Jimun Seo-saeng. The very fact that those called judges were giving scores to my painting was unpleasant.
Nevertheless, the reason I participated in the competition was solely for early graduation. For early graduation, two out of three requirements must be satisfied. First, excellent grades. Second, IQ exceeding 140. Third, winning a prize in a national-scale competition.
I had already passed grades through the exam, and instead of an IQ test, I decided to submit a painting to the national competition. Eventually, with this, I met the conditions for early graduation. I decided to offset my unpleasant feelings with this.
"Mother, then please come to school tomorrow."
"Yes, thank you. For coming directly like this."
The homeroom teacher greeted me one last time and left.
"Son, shall we have a celebration party?"
That evening for dinner, Mother prepared much more food than usual. The Witch didn't say a single word throughout the meal. Then, when the parents briefly left their seats, she spoke to me.
"I told you not to stand out."
"Jewels shine on their own."
"Pfft,"
"You're saying you're a jewel? When you only know how to use your body ignorantly?"
I could sense envy in the Witch's tone. I smiled and spoke with emphasis so the Witch could definitely hear.
"Do you understand art?"
The Witch's pupils shook. This was the first time for such a reaction. I suddenly felt good. Come to think of it, there were no art pieces of any kind in the Witch's Ice Castle in my previous life. There were no common sculptures, and no patterns on the walls. It was just made of plain ice.
"A warrior enjoys freedom and romance while revering martial arts and chivalry. This is the life of a warrior. You wouldn't understand."
The Witch's lips trembled.
"Didn't you say you'd beat me at everything?"
"With such trivial things like painting."
The Witch sprang up from her seat. She clenched her fists, holding back her anger.
It was time to say these words.
"This time, I won."
The Witch whirled her body around. Breathing noticeably heavily, she left the house irritably.
"Yuri, where are you going?"
Mother came to the dining table. I smiled and said,
"She says she's on a diet."
"Tell her to eat more. What diet. She's already slim."
"Yes, I'll go and bring her back."
I went outside for now. There were things I had suffered, so I couldn't end it with just this. I went outside thinking of teasing her more, but the Witch was nowhere to be seen.
"Is she in the laboratory?"
The Witch's pink laboratory located halfway up the mountain was a place even my parents rarely entered.
'Mother told me to bring her back.'
There's an official justification. It was also an opportunity to satisfy my curiosity, so I entered the Witch's laboratory.
The interior of the laboratory was divided into three sections. 150 pyeong was divided in equal proportions for use as a laboratory, a reference room, and a training room.
The laboratory was filled with various reagents, glass cups and bowls of unknown purpose, and materials, while the reference room had books, computers, and large storage devices.
'She was also doing computers.'
The training room was an empty space, but complex magic circles were drawn all over the walls. Having experienced the power of such magic circles in my previous life, I unconsciously became vigilant.
"Why did you come here?"
When I entered, the Witch spoke with a fully guarded look.
"Mother's errand."
I confidently stated my purpose.
"Stop dieting and come eat. You're not going to make Mother worry, are you?"
"Fine."
The Witch couldn't do anything against Mother's words either.
Just as we were about to leave the laboratory together, something caught my eye. Whether it was an intentional attempt to hide it, colored paper was tucked between white documents. I unconsciously pulled out that paper.
"Stop!"
The Witch shouted, but it was too late.
"Pfft!"
I laughed when I saw the paper. Lost lines and colors that destroyed the form.
"Is it an earthworm?"
On the white paper was a dragon that might have been drawn by a kindergartener.
"Just draw shapes for the rest of your life. You're good at that. Leave art to me."
"How dare you!"
The paper I was holding caught fire. The picture turned to ash and scattered, but I couldn't stop laughing.
"Shall we go eat dumplings?"
My returning steps were so light. It was the most pleasant day of my eight-year-old life.
***
April 15th. I took the qualification exam and passed. After graduating elementary school, you can take the qualification exam regardless of age, so there was no problem.
In a state where I had the qualifications to enter high school, I briefly pondered. Whether to pass again with a qualification exam or attend high school, when Dawon Art High School in Seoul made a proposal. A single-person dorm room and tuition exemption.
The tuition exemption wasn't very meaningful, but with the words ‘single-person dorm room’, one plan came to mind.
'I need to be away from family for a while.'
I needed time to devote myself to training free from family interference. I didn't dislike that interference, but it was a part I had to endure for training.
I chose to enter high school, and my parents didn't oppose. They only worried about dorm life.
"Please trust me. You know me."
Persuading my parents wasn't difficult.
When I decided to enroll, the school side extensively promoted the fact that I was entering.
Birth of a genius painter
A talent who will change the history of ink painting
So many epithets followed. I negotiated various conveniences and left them be. I demanded conditions for a single-person dorm room and freely attending classes.
"As long as you don't graduate for one year, it's fine."
The principal was troubled about classes but eventually permitted it.
***
August 17th. I entered high school at the start of the second semester. It's already the second enrollment this year. I'm used to this now.
My parents accompanied me to the teachers' office, greeted the homeroom teacher, then returned with worried looks.
"Don't worry. Take care of your health, and you absolutely must not overdo it."
Mother was in her final month with the birth not far off. Father told her to rest, but she stubbornly insisted on coming here together.
'Well, there's the Witch at home.'
The Witch lived the same life as in my previous life. Just as she had created the Ice Castle and never left her territory, she stayed around the laboratory and near the house. At most, she only went out to the gifted education center and when going to the hospital with Mother.
At times like this, the Witch is reliable.
'I wonder if there's anything to learn here.'
High school at eight years old. The homeroom teacher was a thirty-eight-year-old woman who majored in art. From the start, I could see her treating me specially. Not only because of my painting but because I entered school so early, she said worried words several times.
"If there's anything difficult, definitely tell the teacher."
She treats me like a kindergartener.
Dawon Art High School, first year, Art Class 1. Because it's an art high school, there were five separate majors, and I entered Art Major Class 1. When you become a second-year, you choose a subdivided major within art as well.
'But I won't become a second-year.'
I entered the classroom with the homeroom teacher during homeroom time.
Twenty students. Four boys and sixteen girls. The entire art high school had a higher ratio of girls than boys. They seemed to have already heard the rumors and all recognized me.
All the kids here were seventeen years old, and I was the only early admission. The difference between eight and seventeen years old is clearly felt in appearance too. Even if I'm mature, I look about ten years old, and the seven years of growth period made the difference even more stark.
'They're just little kids anyway.'
Various gazes poured in. Some were surprised and some sent curious looks. I also felt envy and jealousy. Still, most had looks containing curiosity.
"This is a new transfer student. Don't ignore or bully him because he's young, treat him well like a younger brother."
The word younger brother bothers me. Because of the fact that the Witch is my older sister, I dislike the word younger brother itself.
"Want to introduce yourself?"
Excessive consideration. If you plant a first impression like this, you get ignored and become bothersome.
I stepped forward and looked at the children who would become classmates and said.
"Na Uram. Don't be curious about me. I'll get by appropriately and then disappear."
Just conveying those words changed everyone's expressions. Did they expect honorifics? Was my word choice wrong?
And so my high school life began.