Chapter 35

35

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Michelangelo's talent reached the heavens. This was a phrase often on the lips of the connoisseurs who lived in his time.

His talent was so great that even in the place where God exists, it was said that Michelangelo's talent could be compared to that of God. His talent was praised as being great.

Furthermore, the citizens of Florence praised Michelangelo as the greatest artist in history, who surpassed his competitors in sculpture, painting, and architecture, and reigned at the highest place.

And upon hearing all this praise, Michelangelo grumbled with his characteristic sullen face.

"If people knew how much effort I put into this painting, they would never call me a genius."

It was a Michelangelo-like statement.

* * * *

A deep night.

Jo Dongbeom, who had been cooling off by looking at the yellow moon, turned his back.

The glass workshop was a dangerous place to leave someone working alone. Now, it was time to go in. Jo Dongbeom quickened his pace.

As soon as he entered the workshop, a wave of intense heat enveloped him, as if it were about to swallow him whole. Huh. The situation was completely opposite to the cold air outside in winter. Jo Dongbeom took a deep breath.

The kiln temperature had already reached 1,500 degrees. The kiln, which shone more brightly than the dim light, glowed with an orange hue like the sun.

Jo Dongbeom looked at the kiln, which was boiling, with a stunned expression. More precisely, he was looking at Kang Seok, who was shaping glass in front of the kiln.

– "My name is Kang Seok."

– "I'm a second-year high school student."

– "I attend Cheonghua Arts High School."

After a few hours of sticking around, Jo Dongbeom had learned quite a lot from just a few words of conversation. He wished he could go back to the time when he didn't know any of this. How could a high school student be like this?

At eighteen, Kang Seok was extraordinarily talented.

Watching Kang Seok shape the glass, Jo Dongbeom began to doubt whether he should continue on the path of art. He was already on his eighth round of life contemplation for the day.

What kind of concentration is that? It had been hours.

Kang Seok was still standing in front of the kiln, making a flower. Even high school students who take the college entrance exam have breaks, but Kang Seok seemed to have the word "rest" deleted from his vocabulary, moving vigorously.

Is human concentration really that great? Jo Dongbeom looked at Kang Seok, who was using tweezers to work on the glass, with a stunned expression.

The glass was turning pink as it cooled.

It was supposed to be a pink with a purple hue due to the addition of gold powder, but it seemed that the glass had been spread so thinly that there was no trace of the purple hue.

It was clearly a talent bestowed by God. The skill of those hands, that concentration, that passion.

Kang Seok's eyes, which burned hotter and more fiercely than the rising kiln temperature, were even more terrifying. How could he do that? This recurring doubt tormented Jo Dongbeom.

Isn't it hot? He won't collapse, will he? Should I give him some water? Or does he not even go to the bathroom? Isn't he scared of the fire behind him? Are all high school students like this these days? Can I survive in this market?

It was a bleak monologue.

At the foot of Kang Seok, who was shaping the glass, a rubber basin was already filled with glass. Each piece was a thin, colorful glass that resembled a flower petal.

– "Can I pay 1 million won as a down payment?"

All of these were the result of Kang Seok's work after receiving the 1 million won down payment and starting the work a few hours ago. The number was quite significant for such a short time.

To Jo Dongbeom, they looked perfect from above, below, and even when rolled to the side. Yet, Kang Seok seemed dissatisfied and kept discarding the glass and making more peonies.

What was even more terrifying was that this eighteen-year-old Kang Seok was continuously improving.

After making a peony that was already perfect to the point of being impossible to improve, he discarded it, made another, and created an even more perfect peony, found a flaw, discarded it, and made another.

The endless medley of improvements at a terrifying speed made Jo Dongbeom feel like his mind was about to snap. Stop! Jo Dongbeom burst out in a silent monologue.

But it didn't reach him this time either.

Kang Seok, seemingly dissatisfied with something, began to write something on a piece of paper. Was there room for improvement even there? Jo Dongbeom gave up on holding onto his sanity.

Meanwhile, Kang Seok, who had been bent over for hours, showed no signs of pain as he continued to write.

Muttering to himself while looking at the glass, Kang Seok seemed almost possessed.

Jo Dongbeom began to rationalize. With that mental strength, he could have done anything. He's a different species from me. He repeated this to himself, brainwashing himself.

In the meantime, Kang Seok, who seemed to be using all the tools in the workshop as if they were his own, began to work on the glass again with a small sanding machine and a grinder. His movements were not ordinary.

For a moment, Jo Dongbeom wondered if he had come to play in Kang Seok's workshop. Despite this, Kang Seok showed no signs of hiding his dissatisfaction.

It was unclear what was lacking in that perfect glass flower, but Jo Dongbeom had one thing he could understand.

"Can I try one more time?"

Kang Seok was a relentless worker, to the point where it made him want to vomit.

Due to continuously handling hot objects, Kang Seok's face was flushed, and his back was drenched in sweat. His lips were dry from not drinking enough water, but his eyes were burning with passion.

Passion. A burning desire for perfection. An obsession that knows no bounds. Endless challenges.

He was impressive. Jo Dongbeom felt a natural sense of awe towards the high school student in front of him.

"Feel free to use whatever you need."

Despite the age difference, the respectful language flowed naturally. It was a sign of respect for a great artist, regardless of age.

This strange genius, no matter how he got to this glass workshop, was clearly giving Jo Dongbeom an experience he would never forget in his life.

"Thank you."

Kang Seok discarded the glass he had just completed without hesitation, using a jack. The spinning glass fell with a thud into the basin. Clang. The sound of the glass breaking against each other echoed.

The sound of the beautiful glass breaking made Jo Dongbeom's heart ache, but Kang Seok was already moving to make the next glass flower.

Ah.

Watching Kang Seok, who used the workshop more passionately than he did, made Jo Dongbeom's heart boil. Why had he just watched for over half a day? He felt ashamed of himself.

This wasn't the time for that. Jo Dongbeom hurriedly walked towards the kiln and picked up a pipe. He couldn't just watch. He had to learn this from the side.

This was a gift from heaven. Jo Dongbeom, who had suddenly shifted from a teaching position to a learning position, moved quickly.

Kang Seok was already heading to get the heated glass. Jo Dongbeom hurriedly followed behind him. The weight of the pipe was transmitted to his hands. His hands were sweating, perhaps from the heat. Ha ha. A laugh escaped him.

His heart was pounding. Ha ha. A bright smile appeared on Jo Dongbeom's face, who had been contemplating giving up glass art for the eighth time that day.

It was fun.

It was so fun.

He couldn't stand it. Jo Dongbeom shouted loudly.

"Master!"

"Yes?"

Kang Seok turned around, surprised by Jo Dongbeom's sudden call of "Master." His face was characteristically mercilessly fierce. However, Jo Dongbeom, with a smile like a field of flowers, inserted the pipe into the kiln.

"Let's do it together!"

"No, why would I be your master..."

"Ha ha ha!"

Jo Dongbeom laughed as he inserted the pipe into the kiln, which glowed like the sun at night. Ah, it's fun. Art is indeed fun.

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"He was a strange person."

Dawn.

Riding his bicycle through the dark, swallowed-up street, Kang Seok shook his head. The cold caressed his cheeks roughly.

Feeling his flushed cheeks cool down, Kang Seok recalled the events of a few minutes ago.

– "Master! Please! Please take me as your disciple!"

– "No... I just touched glass for the first time today. How can I teach anyone..."

– "Master!"

– "No..."

– "It's fine if you don't teach me. Just let me stay by your side! I won't even call myself your disciple. Ah! If I become famous, I'll announce that it's all thanks to you, Master Kang Seok! I won't even ask for money!"

– "It doesn't matter if you don't pay me..."

– "Aaaah! Master!"

The vivid image of the grown man clinging to his pants, determined to learn this, replayed in Kang Seok's mind. He let out a hollow laugh.

A long time ago.

It reminded him of someone who used to knock on the workshop door every day.

Kang Seok, who had a mediocre skill but a passion as big as a mountain, couldn't reject him outright. It might have been a side effect of recalling his past life as Michelangelo.

He was merciless to the foolish who tried to use his name, but he was incredibly weak for sincere and hardworking disciples, even if they didn't develop enough to succeed him.

Of course, he was still the ill-tempered Michelangelo.

Kang Seok pedaled.

Kang Seok objectively assessed Jo Dongbeom's skills. By his standards, Jo Dongbeom's skills were crap. Sprinkling gold powder on crap would still make it crap.

Would this man be able to learn the techniques from him?

Most likely, like other disciples, he would just serve him and fail. It was a pity. Kang Seok clicked his tongue and pedaled. He had no talent for teaching.

Kang Seok, though skeptical, thought it wouldn't be boring for a short time and continued to pedal.

His pedaling grew faster and faster.

In his bag was a well-packaged glass peony, which he had made with Jo Dongbeom's help from noon until dawn, finally achieving a satisfactory first glass peony.

Kang Seok smiled, recalling the peony with a green stem, connected by sanding to a matte finish.

It was past midnight, February 9th.

It was the birthday of his mother, Baek Myunghee, who had given birth to and raised him.

* * * *

"Mom, are you looking at that again?"

Kang Chae-young, drying her hair with a towel, entered the bedroom. Her mother, Baek Myunghee, smiled and rested her chin on her hand. On her vanity table was a white peony in a vase, a gift from Kang Seok on February 9th, along with a cake.

"It's so beautiful."

Thinking of Kang Seok's shy face when he gave her the peony, which symbolized a happy marriage, Baek Myunghee couldn't help but smile.

The peony itself was beautiful, but just thinking about Kang Seok giving it to her made Baek Myunghee feel happy.

Kang Chae-young, who was drying her long hair, followed her mother's smile.

"It is pretty."

When she realized that the soft, pure white object was made of glass, Kang Chae-young almost fainted. Even after touching it, she was unsure until the sound of the flower hitting the vase confirmed it was glass.

"How can that be glass?"

Kang Chae-young shook her head and walked to her room. It was a valid question. Even after four days, Baek Myunghee couldn't easily believe it was glass.

After looking at the peony for a moment, Baek Myunghee reluctantly took a step. It was beautiful, but she couldn't keep staring at it all day.

Putting on her coat, Baek Myunghee went to the living room. At the same time, Kang Chae-young came out to put the towel in the laundry basket.

"Where are you going?"

"To the furniture store."

"Furniture store? Did my brother sleep there again today?"

Kang Chae-young's mouth dropped open. It had been four days.

If he hadn't come home yesterday, it meant that Kang Seok had been living between the furniture store and the glass workshop, working day and night, for four days since he gave the peony to Baek Myunghee.

"Why doesn't he take care of himself when he always says health is the most important?"

Even if the health checkup results were normal, it might be better for her brother to have a recheck. Kang Chae-young grumbled with a worried look.

"My brother is scary when he focuses."

He wasn't like this before, but lately he has been.

Once he enters the furniture store workshop, he shows incredible concentration and a fanatical obsession, to the point where it's scary to see.

He's currently working on that ginseng owl sculpture.

"Anyway, I'm going to the furniture store to bring him breakfast. Do you want to come?"

Baek Myunghee casually asked Kang Chae-young. Kang Chae-young's eyes widened like a rabbit's, and she darted to her room. Wait a moment! A loud voice came from the other side of the door. Wait! Baek Myunghee laughed at the continuous shouts.

It was an ordinary morning as winter was coming to an end.

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5103. Professor's Research Room.

Lee Min-hyuk, Department of Linguistics, Korea University.

Lee Min-hyuk, who gave a brief glance at the old but new-looking nameplate, turned the doorknob. As he opened the door, the beige curtains fluttered in the window. Sunlight flooded in.

Is spring already approaching?

Lee Min-hyuk closed his eyes at the sudden sunlight. The sunlight, seen through his lenses, was blinding. He smoothed the wrinkles between his eyes with his index and thumb fingers and walked forward.

The research room was cool due to the open window, taking away the heat from his body. He enjoyed the cold that seemed to take away his fatigue as he sat down.

His eyes showed clear signs of fatigue.

– "Why don't you take a break?"

This morning, as he left home, his wife Choi Mi-jung's words echoed in his ears. Has he been living too busily lately? Maybe it's time to take a break.

Thinking of his father's tired face from last weekend, Lee Min-hyuk closed his eyes. At that moment, his long-silent phone began to vibrate.

"......!"

Creak! The chair sprang back roughly to its place. Lee Min-hyuk fumbled for the phone he had thrown on the desk. The hand that reached for the glasses he had taken off was equally hasty.

Where is it? Where is it? It might be the news he had been waiting for. As Lee Min-hyuk frantically searched for his phone, it vibrated again, and the notification light flashed from under a copy of Goethe's original.

Lee Min-hyuk grabbed the phone.

Finally!

36. What about my brother?