Chapter 38
Kim Si-woo carefully unrolled the hanging scroll and began to speak.
"Mr. Han Jeong-sik, let me explain why this painting is being considered a genuine work."
Han Jeong-sik nodded, his face tight with tension.
The camera crew moved in for close-ups of the expressions on both men’s faces and of the scroll itself.
"First, the title of this painting is Geumgang Rain Mood Painting. It’s a work by Gyeomjae Jeong Seon, depicting the rainy scenery of Mount Geumgang."
Si-woo pointed to the upper-right corner of the scroll.
"If you look here, you can see the title Geumgang Rain Mood Painting, and next to it, the seal reading 'Gyeomjae.'"
Si-woo compared it on his tablet with the seal on another work by Jeong Seon.
The handwriting matched perfectly.
Seeing that, Han Jeong-sik asked, "······But doesn’t identical handwriting only prove that it could be a copy?"
"That’s right. So let me explain the other parts."
He laid the scroll carefully on the desk and began explaining one point at a time.
"This is the part the appraiser from Antiques Uncovered pointed out as the 'smudged ink dots.'"
He indicated the dark blots scattered across the painting.
"He said these were the result of poor control over the ink density, with the artist trying to hide the bleeding. But I see it differently. This was done on purpose."
"On purpose?"
"Yes. Look at the title again: Geumgang Rain Mood Painting. Rain mood refers to the atmosphere of a rainy day. Gyeomjae Jeong Seon’s famous Geumgang Mountain Panorama depicts Mount Geumgang on a clear day. But this painting is set in the rain."
He pointed in turn to the mountain peaks in the painting.
"When you paint a clear day, you render it with crisp, distinct ink dots. But what about a day when the rain is coming down in sheets? It’s only natural for everything to look blurred and blurred at the edges. Jeong Seon deliberately let the ink run to capture that effect."
Han Jeong-sik narrowed his eyes and studied the painting.
"Now that you mention it, I can see that."
"Look closely at these ink spots. They’re raindrops. Raindrops collecting on each peak, streams of water running down the rock face. By layering the ink again and again, he created the texture of a heavy downpour."
The camera hurried to catch the places Si-woo was pointing at.
"And then there’s the composition."
Si-woo swept his hand across the whole painting.
"The appraiser said the perspective was a mess. He said the boulders in front were too large and the mountains in the back too small, making the scene feel unstable."
"Yes, that’s what he said."
"He wasn’t entirely wrong. But that, too, was an intentional composition meant to express a special condition: torrential rain. What happens when rain is coming down so hard you can barely see through it? Things nearby appear sharp, while things farther away are veiled by the rain and seem smaller and more indistinct."
Si-woo alternated between pointing at the center of the painting and the background.
"Jeong Seon reproduced that visual effect exactly. He said the perspective was wrong, but Gyeomjae, the master of true-view landscape painting, simply painted what he actually saw."
Han Jeong-sik was bewildered by Si-woo’s explanation, which was so different from what he had heard on YouTube.
"And the appraiser said the paper was of poor quality too — coarse fibers, irregular texture. He said a master like Gyeomjae would never have painted on paper like this."
"Was that wrong?"
"I agree in part, but here the opposite is true."
He felt the paper’s texture with his fingertips as he spoke.
"High-grade hanji has fine, smooth fibers, so the ink doesn’t bleed. It’s perfect for depicting a clear day. But if you’re painting rain..."
Han Jeong-sik’s eyes widened.
"Rough dak paper has thicker, irregular fibers, so the ink spreads naturally. It’s exactly the kind of paper that works for a rainy scene. Jeong Seon chose it deliberately. And because thick dak paper is highly durable, it was able to survive all the way to the present, three hundred years later."
He pointed to the red seal stamped in one corner of the painting.
"The decisive clue is this red seal paste. Three hundred years ago, people used the mineral cinnabar, mixed into oil. Look closely at the edge of the seal. There’s a trace of the oil that carried the cinnabar, slowly seeping, almost imperceptibly, along the paper fibers over a long period of time. In technical terms, it’s called oil seepage. It’s a fingerprint created by time itself, one that can only appear after three hundred years have passed."
"T-then it’s genuine?"
Han Jeong-sik’s voice trembled.
It felt as though his heart might burst from the shock.
"From what the appraiser in Antiques Uncovered saw at a glance, it was easy to mistake it. On the surface, it looks like an outright forgery. But Jeong Seon seems to have deliberately broken away from the existing framework in order to express Mount Geumgang in the rain."
Si-woo looked at Han Jeong-sik and spoke carefully.
"Of course, to make a final determination, it still needs a full scientific appraisal. Scientific analysis, infrared imaging, X-ray examination, and other methods are necessary to confirm it."
When the explanation was over, the members of the filming crew looked at one another, each with the same stunned expression.
Han Jeong-sik had tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
The hanging scroll he had received long ago after being swindled out of everything he owned.
The useless father who had lost his wife and could not even give his daughter proper wedding furnishings.
Such a man had been granted a miracle.
* * *
The next morning.
Eterna Gallery, the representative’s office.
Warm morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
After finishing the video from Antiques Uncovered on her tablet, Shin A-young faced Si-woo, who sat across from her.
Even Shin A-young, usually so composed, could not hide her surprise this time.
She looked at Si-woo as though she still could not quite believe it.
"You saw a painting that had been dismissed as a cheap forgery for fifty thousand won, and then went out and found it?"
Si-woo, sipping coffee across from her, nodded.
If he hadn’t stumbled across the video through the algorithm by chance, he would never have found it.
He could only call himself very lucky.
Si-woo gave Shin A-young the same explanation he had given Han Jeong-sik the night before.
"······The ink tone, the brushwork, the paper quality, and, most decisively, the oil seepage in the seal paste. Everything matches the characteristics of Jeong Seon’s true-view landscape paintings. More than anything,"
Si-woo’s gaze deepened.
"I could feel the distinctive spirit of Gyeomjae. It’s an aura that could never come from a mere imitation."
Shin A-young looked back down at the painting on the tablet screen.
Now that she had heard the explanation, the smeared-looking ink marks really did seem like driving sheets of rain.
"Si-woo, you really... I still can’t believe I’m hearing this. It’s being stored in the vault now, isn’t it?"
"Yes. I talked it over with Han Jeong-sik, and it’ll be entrusted to Eterna Gallery."
"Not to Eterna Gallery so much as to you, I imagine."
Si-woo gave an awkward smile.
"Si-woo. You know how much the late Chairman Lee Geon-hwi of Samjeong treasured Jeong Seon’s Clearing After Rain on Mount Inwang, don’t you?"
It was a famous story known to everyone in the art world.
The work that the late chairman, founder of Samjeong, had failed to obtain, but which he later acquired and kept by his side for the rest of his life: Clearing After Rain on Mount Inwang.
Samjeong donated more than 23,000 works of art and cultural assets to the state in 2021.
The donation included a Monet, a Goryeo Thousand-Armed Avalokiteshvara painting, and Danwon Kim Hong-do’s Autumn Song Poem Illustration, but...
among them, it was said that what Lee Geon-hwi treasured most was Clearing After Rain on Mount Inwang.
The Geumgang Rain Mood Painting Si-woo had found was a work no less remarkable than Clearing After Rain on Mount Inwang.
Rarity, artistic value, and even the premium of being an unseen work.
It was no wonder the estimated value had reached at least 30 billion won.
Si-woo set down his teacup and said, "For now, I think we need a formal appraisal and an official certificate of authenticity. If we’re going to convince the public, we’ll need scientific data."
Shin A-young agreed. "Of course. We’ll support this at the gallery level however we can. I’ll connect immediately with the Cultural Heritage Appraisal Committee and have them begin a full investigation to confirm its authenticity."
* * *
After he finished speaking with Shin A-young and stepped out, his smartphone buzzed.
The caller was the National Cultural Heritage Administration.
Si-woo frowned in confusion, cleared his throat, and answered.
"Yes, hello."
"Is this Mr. Kim Si-woo? This is Section Chief Lee Moon-cheong from the policy division of the Cultural Heritage Administration. Is now a good time to speak?"
A section chief at a central government ministry was a high-ranking official, equivalent to a senior Grade 3 civil servant.
And yet that man was addressing Si-woo with deference.
No, calling him "Mr." was one thing, but...
his voice sounded like he had at least twenty years on him.
At the same time, Si-woo realized this had to be connected to the recent donation of the Baekje gilt-bronze Maitreya seated Buddha.
"Yes, it’s fine."
"At this morning’s Cabinet meeting, Mr. Kim Si-woo’s award of the Gold Crown Order of Cultural Merit was finalized."
For a moment, he was speechless.
"The Gold Crown... Order of Cultural Merit?"
"Yes. The President will present it personally, and you will become the youngest recipient in history. Congratulations."
The Gold Crown Order of Cultural Merit.
It was the highest class of decoration awarded to figures in the arts and culture.
Si-woo knew very well how difficult it was to receive.
Those who received it were usually elderly, each of them having made immense contributions in their field or being world-renowned in their own right.
As a rule, when someone donated cultural heritage, the usual decorations were the Silver Crown or the Treasure Crown.
"For reference, it is exceedingly rare for a cultural heritage donor to receive the Gold Crown Order of Cultural Merit. In 2020, Mr. Son Chang-geun received it when he donated 304 cultural assets, including Chusa Kim Jeong-hui’s Letter from a Cold Year."
Letter from a Cold Year was the kind of national treasure-level cultural asset every student in Korea had heard of at least once.
"Only a donation of that scale could merit the Gold Crown Order of Cultural Merit. The Baekje gilt-bronze Maitreya Buddha you donated has that kind of value as a national treasure-level cultural asset."
Section Chief Lee Moon-cheong continued his explanation.
"In fact, when it first went before the review committee, it was almost decided as the Silver Crown. But the National Museum of Korea came out strongly in support. They gave high marks for the Buddha’s academic value, its state of preservation, and the fact that you recovered a cultural asset that had nearly been lost forever."
"Thank you. That’s truly an honor."
"And we reached this decision after speaking with the National Tax Service."
"The National Tax Service?"
Why was the National Tax Service suddenly involved?
Si-woo asked in confusion.
"Mr. Kim Si-woo, you will now be eligible for tax benefits."
He knew there were tax benefits for donations.
He had only vaguely assumed it meant the taxes would go down a bit.
"This is a legal right stipulated in the Restriction of Special Taxation Act and the Inheritance and Gift Tax Act."
"Honestly, this is the first I’ve heard of it."
When Si-woo answered frankly, Section Chief Lee Moon-cheong explained in a gentle voice.
"That’s understandable. Most people don’t know about it. Let me put it simply. Based on the appraised value, you will be exempt from tax on that amount for the next ten years."
"Really?"
Si-woo was startled.
"Yes. The appraised value came to 10 billion won. We had intense discussions with the National Tax Service, but because this is such an unprecedented case... it may have been assessed somewhat lower than its actual appraised worth. I apologize."
There was genuine regret in Lee Moon-cheong’s voice.
"No, I didn’t even know something like that existed."
The estimated value being cut in half was a pity, but this was the National Tax Service he was dealing with.
The grim reapers who could find dust on anyone if they shook them hard enough.
Still, getting them to recognize 10 billion won was an impressive feat in itself.
"Under the Restriction of Special Taxation Act, the cultural asset you donated is classified as a 'special donation.' Unlike ordinary charitable donations, it can be fully deducted up to 100 percent of your annual income."
Unable to follow the calculation, Si-woo asked, "What exactly does it mean to be able to deduct up to 100 percent of my income?"
"Very simply, Mr. Kim. You’re going to earn money in the future, whether through business or lectures, right? It means that from your comprehensive income, you can subtract the 10 billion won donation amount."
Si-woo swallowed hard.
"This benefit can legally be carried forward for the next ten years. In other words, let’s say you earn 1 billion won a year for the next ten years. Normally, nearly half of that would be taken in taxes, but during this period, your income tax will be zero. Until the 10 billion won limit is fully used up, the National Tax Service can’t send you a tax bill."
"......!"
It was a benefit he had never even imagined.
"Even ordinary high-value donors can only deduct about 30 percent of their income, but cultural heritage donations receive benefits on a different level."
"Is that so?"
"Ah, and for reference, local taxes such as acquisition tax on real estate or property tax are separate. Those are not income tax, so they’re not deductible."
"I understand. Thank you for explaining it so clearly."
"We’ll send an official notice soon with the schedule for the medal ceremony and the list of documents needed for tax processing. Thank you sincerely for your great contribution to the preservation of national cultural heritage."
Even after the call ended, Si-woo remained standing there, motionless.
Through one donation, he had gained the Gold Crown Order of Cultural Merit and a ten-year tax exemption he had never expected.
By donating a national treasure-level cultural asset, he had secured both honor and practical benefit.
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