4
Force Majeure
His beautifully lowered eyes didn’t even flutter at the lashes.
While the fingers holding the brush were elegant, the movement of the brush against the hanji was almost violent. Following the unhesitating brushstrokes, bluish-black ink seeped into the hanji.
Yu-shin was painting a sumukhwa. A magnificent landscape existed on the horizontally long paper. The beast roaring atop a mountain peak gained fur and skin through his line drawings, its coat rippling as it was granted abundant vitality.
His skill was evident in the simple, sweeping strokes. Yu-shin showed not an ounce of hesitation. Even so, the sense of space and liveliness the painting possessed made it clear the level was exceptional.
Just then, Yu-shin bent his waist so low his nose nearly touched the hanji.
The effort he put into drawing the leopard’s eyes was considerable. Was this what they meant by the finishing touch that brings the dragon to life? The process of filling the pupils into the beast’s empty whites demanded concentration so intense he couldn’t even breathe carelessly.
Following the delicately drawn strokes, Jun-wan also held his breath. A glossy, utterly black color.
Though he was a layman when it came to art, he had to acknowledge it. This wasn’t a hobby—it was Yu-shin’s calling.
Eyelids that didn’t blink even once, a brush handle held perfectly steady, in the profound silence only the brush tip moved.
From a spectator’s position, it was breathtaking. Jun-wan unconsciously gripped the water bottle tighter, his hand tense.
Crinkle—at the crunching sound, Yu-shin’s concentration broke. His small head shot up and turned toward where the sound came from. Upon discovering Jun-wan, Yu-shin’s eyes grew as wide as bowls.
“When did you get here?”
“Five minutes ago.”
Jun-wan bit his lip, feeling awkward. He felt quite embarrassed that his presence had broken Yu-shin’s concentration.
Yu-shin himself smiled faintly as if he didn’t mind. He put down his brush entirely and sat comfortably, loosening his stiff neck.
“Can I drink that water?”
Instead of answering, Jun-wan brought the water directly to him. Yu-shin smiled again at the gracious service.
After refreshingly quenching his dry throat, he tilted his heavy head back. He’d painted intensely for the first time in a while. Now that he’d put down the brush, fatigue hit him belatedly.
While Yu-shin caught his breath sitting down, Jun-wan quietly looked around. The work environment couldn’t be called pleasant by any stretch. Hanji with only rough scribbled lines covered the floor, and there were over five inkstones laid out.
It wasn’t thoughtlessly scattered about. Even if it all looked like the same ink to Jun-wan’s eyes, each would have different uses, and each brush would have different purposes.
The astringent fragrance rising from the inkstones was magnificent. Ink was made from the soot of burned pine. The higher the quality of ink, the richer the scent, and that scent filled the spacious studio.
Yu-shin, who had been sprawled out like an immortal at leisure, belatedly realized Jun-wan was examining the studio. Feeling self-conscious for no reason, he straightened his slouched body and gathered up the hanji scattered on the floor.
“What should we do about dinner?”
Yu-shin deliberately threw out casual words. Just as he was about to crumple up the last drawing, Jun-wan approached and grabbed Yu-shin’s wrist.
The usually calm person had his eyes unusually wide. At his surprised face, Yu-shin’s eyes widened as well.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re cleaning up.”
“Why would you… Doesn’t it seem wasteful?”
Yu-shin blinked and spread out the crumpled hanji again. Wondering if he’d made some mistake.
It was just a practice sketch for warming up his hand. It was drawn too carelessly to be embarrassing to show anyone.
When he ripped the crumpled hanji completely, Jun-wan let out a hollow breath. His reaction was quite refreshing, making Yu-shin laugh.
“Kim Yu-shin, what’s your artist name?”
While he was tidying up, Jun-wan asked an unexpected question. Yu-shin replied while stacking inkstones.
“I don’t tell people.”
“I’m not included in ‘people,’ am I?”
Yu-shin’s hands stopped. When he glanced up, he could see Jun-wan’s face looking straight down at him. His direct gaze held the determination to definitely get an answer.
There was absolutely no way to avoid it. Yu-shin exhaled deeply and muttered.
“…Ungang.”
“……”
“I know, okay? It’s old-fashioned. But I didn’t choose it, okay? If you make fun of me, I won’t let it slide.”
Yu-shin raised his voice, feeling preemptively guilty. But Jun-wan was far from making fun—he was at a loss for words. With widened eyes, he stared endlessly at Yu-shin’s face.
Ungang. How could he not know? Ungang was his father’s—the Minister of Culture’s—favorite artist. The main house’s living room had Ungang’s work hanging in a frame. It was the most expensive luxury item his father owned.
Hadn’t there been a major exhibition just a few years ago? The artist was so renowned that a single piece commanded tens of billions of won.
“The back of my head is tingling.”
Jun-wan pressed firmly on the back of his neck. His eyes stubbornly looked at Yu-shin. So the young master before his eyes was that famous Ungang. What Jun-wan knew as common sense and the truth didn’t match up at all.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were Ungang?”
“Because there was no need to go around saying it myself.”
Yu-shin responded as if it were nothing special. His attitude remained as carefree as before.
If he hadn’t directly witnessed Yu-shin painting, Jun-wan surely wouldn’t have believed it either. That’s how great the disconnect was between the genius artist and Kim Yu-shin.
Jun-wan bent his knees and helped with the cleanup. Not knowing how to handle the tools, the best he could do was wipe the ink stains on the floor with wet wipes.
“My father is an ardent fan of Ungang.”
Oh dear. Yu-shin sighed quietly. Still crouched, he scratched the tip of his nose with a knuckle that had no ink on it.
“Could you keep it a secret from the Minister?”
“Why?”
“…It’s embarrassing.”
Yu-shin’s cheeks were slightly flushed. He clearly wasn’t the type to flaunt his fame. Well, if he craved attention, he would have revealed his face long ago.
“Sure, it’s not like I’ll be meeting your family anyway.”
“Right.”
“Let’s hurry and clean up so we can eat dinner.”
Jun-wan spoke indifferently. His flat tone inspired trust. Yu-shin nodded slightly. He was fortunate Jun-wan wasn’t the type to make a fuss. At the mention of dinner, hunger suddenly hit him.
Dinner was delivered food from a nearby jeon restaurant. It was because of Yu-shin’s request to eat something greasy.
Unlike Yu-shin, who was eating diligently, Jun-wan couldn’t even pick up his chopsticks. The more he thought about it, the more betrayed he felt.
He searched “Ungang” on his phone. Famous enough to be listed in biographical dictionaries, but appearing as identity unknown. Most critics insisted that judging from the experience evident in the paintings, the artist must be at least middle-aged.
Framing was truly remarkable. Even Jun-wan had believed that. Who could have imagined? That the artist Ungang was actually only in his twenties, currently chomping on potato jeon with a fair face.
Unlike earlier, Yu-shin’s face showed no trace of tension. Having finished his shower, he gave off only the scent of soap instead of ink.
Jun-wan put down his phone and leaned back in his chair. His steady gaze turned to the person in front of him. Unable to bear it any longer, Yu-shin finally put down the chopsticks in his mouth.
“If you have something to say, just say it. Don’t make people uncomfortable.”
“My feelings are quite complicated, so I don’t know what to say.”
“I should bring out some alcohol then.”
Yu-shin got up and brought a ceramic bottle and cups from the cupboard. It was precious cheongju his teacher had given him a few days ago. When he opened it, a deep fragrance rose. Yu-shin filled his own cup evenly with alcohol.
“There, I’ve set the stage, so ask away.”
“How long were you planning to keep it a secret?”
Jun-wan emptied his drink first. His interrogating eyes were quite fierce.
Yu-shin also downed his drink. Cheongju sticks to your mouth but is quite strong. His nose bridge wrinkled automatically.
“You keep creating an atmosphere like I deceived you. I only answered your questions with facts, you know?”
“You left out the important parts.”
Jun-wan spoke in a calm tone. He refilled the empty cup himself. Without eating any side dishes, he poured the alcohol straight into his mouth.
“And I ended up looking like a fool for falling for it.”
“……”
“How ridiculous must my words and actions toward Kim Yu-shin have seemed all this time? The more I think about it, the more annoyed I get.”
Jun-wan’s eyes narrowed thinly. Yu-shin slightly averted his gaze and sipped the remaining alcohol. He had actually laughed a few times. Since it wasn’t wrong, he didn’t correct his words.
“Isn’t acting superior more ridiculous?”
“That’s not acting—you’re genuinely superior.”
The answer was firm. Yu-shin pretended not to notice and stroked his cheek. Whether from the alcohol or embarrassment, his cheek was warm.
They emptied their drinks at their own pace. In the properly set stage, frank stories were exchanged. There should be no secrets between a married couple, after all. Mainly Park Jun-wan asked, and Yu-shin obediently answered.
“Not appearing publicly was largely my teacher’s intention. Since if you’re young, preconceptions form. He thought it was better to be evaluated purely on the art itself.”
“And you have no plans to reveal yourself in the future either?”
“Right.”
