Van Gogh Reborn!
Chapter 153: Haesong (9)

Chapter 153 Haesong (9)

I have to stop <Love 7> from being exhibited at the Marso Museum.

I can’t put a picture of me with black bean sauce on my face among those masterpieces by Raphael, Monet, Picasso, Grandpa, and so on.

“Hoon, you should be grateful for what you received.”

“I don’t have to be nice to him.”

“Grandpa thought so too, but you said it yourself. He’s not a bad person. I thought about it and it seemed like we could stimulate each other.”

That’s what I told Grandpa in person yesterday.

He’s not a bad person.

He has some good sides too.

I refused the special exhibition, but he bought my paintings and exhibited them at the Whitney Biennale. I should repay his kindness as a human being.

“Grandpa thinks so. What do you think, Hoon?”

I couldn’t persuade Grandpa with a few words in this situation.

I hoped for Henri Marso.

He didn’t care about dialogue, understanding, or compromise. He wouldn’t replace the painting he wanted with another one.

“There’s no choice.”

I turned my head in surprise.

“You have to refuse!”

I didn’t know why he suddenly begged me so meekly.

“Why?”

“…”

When Marso asked why I had to refuse, I was speechless.

If he insisted on buying <Longing>, Grandpa would refuse him even if I didn’t intervene.

I never dreamed he would agree so easily.

“You want to buy it, don’t you? You want it, don’t you? You should get what you want.”

“It’s a family matter.”

He suddenly acted like he had common sense.

I couldn’t say anything and Cha Si-hyun nodded.

“Family is precious.”

The people around us who were watching over us agreed with Cha Si-hyun’s words.

“Family is precious.”

“Henri is surprising. He has a rational side too.”

“That’s right.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Greeting with a painting, not money. Why, Henri also gave Marso’s jewel.”

“That’s true.”

Contrary to my wishes and thoughts, they seemed to find this absurd situation heartwarming.

Grandpa stroked my head and said to Henri Marso.

“Take it when the exhibition is over.”

When Grandpa urged him again, the man who didn’t know anything about compromise nodded quickly.

I was angry, but there was nothing I could do.

Grandpa finally opened an exhibition, and I couldn’t cause more trouble. I tried to calm down my angry feelings and headed to the meeting room.

“I did it because you seemed to get along well.”

Grandpa followed me and tried to comfort me, but it was too late.

I was grateful for his help, but I didn’t want to repay him like this.

“No matter what. … What is this?”

When I tried to show Grandpa my resentment, Cha Si-hyun offered me a milk pudding.

“It’s delicious.”

“…Yes.”

I ate it and Grandpa said seriously.

“I was too selfish. I didn’t know you would be embarrassed.”

“It’s not embarrassing. Yes.”

I felt sorry for Grandpa’s self-blame.

I was embarrassed, but I was happy to feel his love for me.

At the same time, I wanted to tell him that it was a problem to be exhibited at the famous Marso Museum.

Cha Si-hyun pushed another milk pudding into my mouth.

The pudding danced on my tongue, teasing it. When I barely caught it, it had a savory aroma and a subtle sweetness.

“I’ll take it down tomorrow, so don’t worry.”

“No, you can’t. It’s a painting Grandpa painted. Stop!”

Every time I tried to say something, Cha Si-hyun fed me pudding and I couldn’t talk to Grandpa.

If this goes on, Grandpa might really take down the painting he hung in the second exhibition hall. I said urgently.

“That’s not the problem. Don’t take it down. Just.”

“Just?”

“…Just a little embarrassed.”

I was embarrassed, but I didn’t want Grandpa to take down the painting he painted for me.

It would be precious to his fans who had been waiting for 19 years, and Grandpa would be sorry too.

The painting was excellent too.

“Ah~”

“…Yes.”

I calmed down with the milk pudding.

I just had to think that Henri Marso wouldn’t hang <Love 7> at the Marso Museum.

I’ll try to talk to him later.

‘I hope he doesn’t do it like the Whitney Biennale.’

I hope he doesn’t exhibit it at a world-class art festival like he did with my paintings at the Whitney Museum.

“Are you really okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m not a kid.”

“Isn’t he our kid?”

Cha Si-hyun teased me again. I glared at him and he offered me another milk pudding. I had no choice but to eat it and he smiled and asked.

“Isn’t it delicious?”

I didn’t feel like getting angry.

Yeah.

Let’s think positively.

He’s not a bad person like I first thought. He’s childish, but he’s not so immature that he would tease someone with a painting.

He’ll understand if I talk to him slowly.

***

Pierre Malo, the representative and craftsman of the prestigious frame shop Chardon in Paris, France, approached Henri and Michel, who were admiring <Love 7>.

“Congratulations. You got a great piece.”

Michel turned his head and greeted him.

“Mr. Malo.”

Pierre Malo exchanged eye contact with Henri Marso and asked Michel how he was.

“I heard you’re planning a salon exhibition. Congratulations.”

It was about the salon exhibition hosted by the French National Art Association.

Being a curator at the Salon, which boasts the longest history, was a great honor, and Michel Platini was one of the three who had the highest decision-making power among them.

“Thank you. The rumor is fast.”

“It can’t be helped. Michel, who only worked at the Marso Gallery, started his first external activity.”

Pierre Malo stroked his round mustache and looked at Henri Marso.

Having traded for a long time, Pierre Malo, who knew Henri’s monopoly well, was very curious about what he had accepted Michel’s external activity for.

Henri Marso felt his gaze and frowned.

“Do you have anything to say?”

“No.”

Pierre Malo smiled and shook his head.

‘He changed.’

He watched Henri’s side, who started to appreciate <Love 7> again, and thought.

The genius painter, who had been drawing only himself, had changed little by little.

He was curious when he expressed things other than himself through <Shadow>.

No, he felt a sign when he exhibited Go Hoon’s <Guest> at the Marso Gallery.

Michel Platini’s external activity was also the same, and giving up <Longing> a while ago was an act that was hard to imagine in the past.

“Are you doing well, Mr. Malo?”

Michel joined the conversation.

“Of course. Thanks to Henri and Go Hoon, who make me happy every day.”

Pierre Malo smiled slightly.

“I look forward to hearing more wonderful stories from you soon.”

Pierre Malo gave Henri Marso a look and left his seat.

“It seemed like you had something to say.”

“You’re a quick-witted person. Don’t contact me until the competition is over.”

Henri Marso said quietly.

He needed to be careful even for a very small thing, as he was preparing for the competition differently from previous years, wanting to compete fairly with Go Hoon.

If it was revealed that he was participating, the judging might not be fair, overshadowed by the name of Henri Marso.

“Really?”

“You know me well. It’s not bad to be careful.”

As the two were talking about the competition, Kim Ji-woo cautiously joined the conversation.

“Excuse me…”

Henri and Michel, who were unaware of her presence, were startled.

“Hello. I’m Kim Ji-woo from Yehwa. If you don’t mind, can I ask you just one question?”

Kim Ji-woo asked with a sales smile.

Henri glared at Kim Ji-woo.

He wrote in English, but that was not evidence that he could not speak French.

He was suspicious of whether she understood the previous conversation.

“I’m sorry. I’m refusing interviews that are not scheduled. Please make an appointment and ask.”

Michel stepped in.

“It’s really just one thing. How can it not be?”

Henri Marso looked at Kim Ji-woo slowly and asked in his native language.

“What do you want to know?”

Kim Ji-woo blinked her eyes, unable to understand the meaning.

He seemed to be French, but Henri Marso, who was fluent in several languages, deliberately used his native language, so he could only think that he had no intention of talking.

“I’m sorry.”

Kim Ji-woo greeted with a gloomy expression.

Henri Marso put his worries aside for the time being with that reaction.

Thump-

Michel, who had already been hated by many media, but still wanted to manage it, gave Henri a hint.

Henri reluctantly called Kim Ji-woo.

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Ask one thing.”

Kim Ji-woo, who had drooped her shoulders, changed.

“Are you not interested in <Jung Yi-pum-song>, but did you want to buy <Longing>, or did you want to buy both works, but were rejected, so what do you think about <Love 7> that you got?”

Henri Marso stumbled back and showed a displeased look at the several questions that followed in an instant.

“I told you to ask one thing.”

“It’s one sentence!”

Henri, who met her bright eyes, did not like Kim Ji-woo’s greed.

But he was generous because he received a not-so-bad question for once.

“I don’t want to buy <Jung Yi-pum-song>.”

“Why? I know you collect works by painter Go Suyeol. And it’s a great masterpiece.”

“…”

Henri Marso glared at Kim Ji-woo. She stopped talking with an awkward smile and he answered sullenly.

“I don’t need to buy all the masterpieces in the world. It’s enough to move me.”

Kim Ji-woo nodded and urged the answer.

“That work is also great, but I don’t fully understand the meaning it contains.”

“Ah.”

Kim Ji-woo understood Henri Marso.

For him, who seemed to have no knowledge of Korea, <Jung Yi-pum-song>, which expressed the history of hardship that Korea sent and the strong will of Koreans who overcame it, might not have been very appealing.

“On the other hand, <Longing> is easy to understand. That’s it.”

“Was it also effective that the work and style of painter Go Suyeol were different from before?”

“Yes.”

“Then what about <Love 7>?”

Henri Marso smiled.

Kim Ji-woo was surprised to see him smile for the first time.

She wondered how much he appreciated <Love 7> to like it so much. She was proud of herself for trying the interview with courage.

“It’s perfect for teasing.”

Kim Ji-woo racked her brain to understand the situation.

“…Yes?”