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Chapter 53: Family
TL: Enuma ID
"Jun!"
Lee Jun couldn't make sense of the situation.
He doesn't know where he is. He doesn't know why he's in a place like this.
When he woke, Lee Jun was in an unfamiliar place.
Wē b n̊ o ve l̊ Е̄ nu m a
Still half asleep, he had wandered toward the voice, and there were a lot of people he knew.
His mom and dad were there too.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Lee Jun stumbled over to his mom and threw his arms around her.
Both arms, tight.
Han Su-jin scooped him up.
"Oof, you're heavy, my boy."
W̄ е b̂ n̆ о̀ v̄ ёl̃ Ӗn u m̈a
Lee Jun nestled into his mom's arms. It was warm.
"Mom, why are you here...?"
He was still half asleep.
He couldn't remember receiving the award, or his parents coming, or painting the picture.
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His aunt, Han So-young, said with a smile,
"You fell asleep, so we came to the hospital."
Е n̆ u̇ḿа
"The hospital?"
"Mm-hm."
Lee Jun tilted his head. His memory was hazy.
Now that he thought about it, it seemed he'd been painting.
"Did I... fall asleep?"
"Yeah. While you were painting."
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Lee Jun thought for a moment, then buried his face in his mom's shoulder again.
He was still sleepy.
The adults watched and smiled fondly.
A drowsy six-year-old, held in his mother's arms.
The child who, moments earlier, had been wrestling with a canvas in front of hundreds of people was now just a little kid.
Lee Jun lifted his head from his mom's shoulder.
Ӗ ňũm̆ а̇ . і d
Suddenly his eyes went wide.
"The painting."
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"Hm?"
"I didn't finish the painting."
Lee Jun tried to climb down from his mom's arms.
His mom held on.
Е̇ň ŭ.m̄а .і̄d̈
"It's okay, it's okay. The painting's done now."
"It's not done. I didn't finish it."
Lee Jun looked at Kim Yo-han with anxious eyes.
"Teacher."
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Kim Yo-han looked at him with rueful eyes.
"Jun. The painting is finished."
Е̃ n̄ ŭ m а .і̄d.
"Finished? But that part over there isn't done."
"It's not that it isn't done. That's where it ends. That painting was completed exactly as it is, unfinished."
Lee Jun tilted his head.
"Because I couldn't finish it?"
"Something like that."
"But I could have finished it..."
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Kim Yo-han rested a hand on Lee Jun's head as the boy's face fell.
"It's fine. You did better than if you'd finished it. 'The beauty of negative space'. You know it, right?"
Lee Jun thought for a moment.
Expressing a painting through negative space.
Maybe the unfinished part of that painting carries a meaning of its own, just like 'negative space'.
"Then... I don't have to paint any more?"
E̊n̄ um а́. і d
"You don't have to paint any more. The painting is already perfect."
Lee Jun looked into Kim Yo-han's eyes.
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If his teacher said so, then it was so.
Lee Jun nodded.
And with a relieved look, he settled back into his mom's arms.
"Oof, he's heavy. Here, Jun's dad, you hold him a bit."
Е_ṅ ũm̈ ӑ
Lee Jeong-su took his son in one arm.
Lee Jun clung to his dad's neck.
"Jun."
"Mm."
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"Painting's not too hard on you?"
his dad asked quietly.
Е n̈üm̊ а
"Hm? No."
Why is he asking that? That was the look on his face.
"If it's too much, you can come home with Dad. Back to Busan."
Watching his son paint had stirred a lot in Lee Jeong-su too.
He can tell his son loves painting. He can tell he's good at it.
But he couldn't shake the thought, 'Is this really the right thing?' The whole time his son was up on that stage, painting.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
All those people watching his son paint. Countless cameras rolling.
Lee Jeong-su couldn't have missed the fact that some of those eyes were far from friendly.
Seeing him drop off to sleep on stage mid-painting, he felt it again. If his son kept painting, his life wouldn't be an easy one going forward.
But he couldn't just make him quit, either. Which path was truly best for his son, Lee Jeong-su, a stranger to this world, had no way of knowing.
Lee Jun lifted his head from his dad's shoulder.
He shook his head slowly.
Е̇ň ǔm a
"I want to paint more. I want to keep painting."
Lee Jeong-su looked at his son.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Those bright, shining eyes. He'd painted himself right to sleep, and now, wide awake, he wants to paint all over again.
As a father, he couldn't bring himself to stop a son like that.
"That so."
"Mm."
Ĕň ǔ m̀ä
Lee Jeong-su said nothing more.
He stroked his son's hair once. Tousled hair.
There was even the smell of paint in it, a sign of just how much he'd been painting.
Ha-na's mother, Yu Seo-jin, said as she gathered her bag,
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"We'll be on our way, then."
So-young bowed her head.
Е n̆úmа.і d
"Thank you. Truly. For going to all this trouble for us."
"There's no need to thank me. This is for young Lee Jun, and for the art world."
Yu Seo-jin told So-young once more,
"Next Monday, eight in the morning. A car will come to your door. It's the academy's shuttle."
"Yes. Understood."
"There's nothing he needs to bring. The academy has all the art supplies. Just dress him in comfortable clothes and send him along."
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"Yes."
Yu Seo-jin looked at Lee Jun. A small child clinging to his dad's neck.
"Jun."
Lee Jun turned his head.
"Starting next week, you'll be going to kindergarten. All right?"
It was the first he'd heard of it.
Еn̄ ūm a . іd
Lee Jun tilted his head.
"Kindergarten? Why?"
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"It's a place where you paint, make friends, and learn your letters."
At home, all he had to do was paint.
But at kindergarten he'd have to do other things too.
"Do I have to go?"
Еnù m ӓ
Ha-na stepped out from behind her mother.
"Lee Jun."
"Hm?"
"Don't just paint. Study too."
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"Why?"
Lee Jun asked blankly.
Е n̆u̇ ma
"Why do you think? A dummy who only knows how to paint can't go to Paris."
Lee Jun's mouth fell open.
Paris. The Orangerie. Monet's Water Lilies.
Lee Jun's eyebrows drooped.
"...I have to study too?"
"Obviously. You have to be able to read a plane ticket, and do sums in French."
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"French?"
"Bonjour, merci, au revoir. You have to be able to say things like that."
They sounded like words he'd heard somewhere before.
"Then can I go? To Paris?"
"If you paint well and study hard."
With that, Ha-na turned to leave with her mother.
Ѐn ú m̌ ӑ . і̂d
Byeon Jin-hyeok nodded to Kim Yo-han and followed his family out.
Still clinging to his dad's neck, Lee Jun watched Ha-na's retreating back.
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France. Bonjour. Plane tickets.
Learn all that, and he can go, or so she says.
[French, is it.]
the Shadow muttered.
Ѐ n̄ u mа̄ . і d
[I can at least teach you 'bonjour'.]
Come to think of it, what Ha-na had said was a lot like the things the Shadow said now and then.
A little later, the doctor came.
"Lee Jun, does your head hurt?"
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"It doesn't hurt."
"You're not dizzy?"
Ëṅ ūḿä .іd̂_
"I'm not dizzy."
"Does your tummy hurt?"
"My tummy's just hungry."
The doctor laughed.
"He's perfectly healthy. You're free to go. Just let him rest well today and make sure he eats."
"Thank you."
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
They handled the discharge.
The hospital lobby.
Lee Jeong-su came out carrying Lee Jun. So-young at his side. Han Su-jin behind.
Kim Yo-han and Park Sang-hoon led the way up front.
Two reporters spotted them and came running.
"Excuse me. Are you young Lee Jun's guardians? Regarding his condition──"
Ѐn uḿ а
Park Sang-hoon moved to block them.
"I'm sorry. Not right now."
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"It's all right."
Han So-young cut in. Park Sang-hoon turned.
So-young gave Park Sang-hoon and Kim Yo-han a look, as if to say, let's not dodge this, let's face it head-on.
Lee Jun's skill as a painter was public knowledge now.
Е̌ ńů m̈а̄ . і́ d̊
Staying quiet until now had only bred wild speculation. Better to meet it head-on and put every last doubt to rest.
"Keep it short, please."
The reporter nodded.
"How is young Lee Jun's condition?"
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"He's perfectly fine. He ran out of energy while painting and fell asleep, that's all. The doctor said there's nothing wrong."
"That's a relief. Might we hear a word from young Lee Jun himself?"
Ẇ е̂ bn̈о̇_vē l Е num_ӓ
So-young looked at Lee Jun. He was clinging to his dad's neck, watching the reporter.
"Jun. This man here has something to ask you. Can you answer him?"
"Mm-hm."
The reporter asked Lee Jun, cradled in his father's arms,
"Lee Jun, you painted at the awards ceremony today. How did that feel?"
Lee Jun thought for a second.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"It was fun."
"Oh? It wasn't hard?"
"No."
"What's the title of the painting?"
Lee Jun tilted his head.
The title of the painting.
W̃ӗb̊.n о́ v̂ ẽ l Е̂ ǹu m̌ã
His teacher had said earlier that the painting was finished. So it ought to have a title.
There had been so many people.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
People clapping. People smiling.
People holding cameras. People eating burgers.
Every one of them had been watching Lee Jun.
His mom, his dad, his aunt, his teacher.
Е̄_nu mа .і̂ d
He had painted all of them.
In that case, the title of the painting was...
"The People Who Congratulate Me."
said Lee Jun.
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"...The People Who Congratulate You? The title of the painting is 'The People Who Congratulate Me'?"
"Yes."
Wе.bn оv̆ӗ l _Е n_u m̆а
The reporter's pen stopped. He looked at Lee Jun for a moment.
This child truly believed it.
The people who'd come to doubt him. The reporters who'd come to expose him.
All of them, people celebrating him.
"...Thank you for the interview. And bye now, Lee Jun."
The reporter bowed his head.
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Park Sang-hoon hailed a taxi. So-young got in the front.
Lee Jeong-su got in the back holding Lee Jun, and Han Su-jin followed.
"Han So-young-ssi, I'll call you tomorrow. That's all for today."
"Thank you. Director Park. Professor, you too."
Kim Yo-han nodded.
It had been a hectic ceremony. They needed to leave the family some time to themselves.
Ŵ ӗ bn ò v еl̃ Ě ń ù m а̃
"Jun."
"Yes."
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"You were the best today."
It was short.
But it was the highest praise Kim Yo-han was capable of giving.
The taxi pulled away.
Е_n̈û m а.ї d̂
Sitting on his dad's lap, Lee Jun looked out the window.
The sun was setting. The sky was orange.
It was a pretty color.
It looked like the color that comes from mixing Naples Yellow with Cadmium Orange.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"Jun, what do you want for dinner? Tell me anything you want, I'll get it all."
his mom asked.
Еnum̀а
Lee Jun thought for a moment.
"Samgyeopsal."
The truth was, Lee Jun didn't care what he ate. He'd have been fine eating the McKing Burger from earlier all over again.
It was just that his dad liked samgyeopsal.
Maybe because he ran the Sashimi Restaurant, his dad preferred meat to fish.
So Lee Jun picked the samgyeopsal his dad liked.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"Jun, then let's go to the best samgyeopsal place in the neighborhood! Auntie will show you the way!"
So-young was even more excited. It wasn't like Jun to ask for samgyeopsal of all things.
"Mm."
It was warm.
He could feel it, his aunt, his mom, his dad, all of them happy.
'If he paints well.'
Ěń.u_m а̂. іd̀
Ha-na had said as much. That if he kept painting well, he could even go to France.
The Shadow had said it too. That winning awards for his paintings made the grown-ups even happier.
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The reason his family was happy right now was all because he had painted well.
One more reason to paint even better took root inside Lee Jun.
*
The samgyeopsal place.
Е̊ ǹu m a
Near So-young's home. But the prices were steep, so it wasn't somewhere she came often.
It wasn't big. Six tables.
A few celebrity autographs were stuck to the wall.
Small, but a hidden gem that only those in the know knew about.
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"Excuse me, three servings of samgyeopsal, please."
"Six."
Eňu ṁ а̀
Lee Jeong-su corrected So-young's order.
"You're going to eat six servings, brother-in-law?"
"Jun's gotta eat too."
"Jun won't even finish one serving."
"Still. At a place like this you always order plenty."
Coming from someone who ran a restaurant, there was no arguing.
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Six generous servings came out. The grill heated up.
Lee Jeong-su laid the meat on. Han Su-jin tied an apron on Lee Jun.
"Don't want it splattering on you. Those're new clothes."
It was already splattered with paint, but no one minded that.
The meat cooked. Lee Jeong-su cut it with the scissors.
The cut pieces went onto Lee Jun's plate. One piece. Two pieces. Three.
Ẁ е̌ b́ noṽ е̂l̃ Е̂ ǹ u m̊ ӓ
Han Su-jin added the meat from in front of her to Lee Jun's plate too. Four. Five.
So-young did the same. Six. Seven.
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The meat piled up on Lee Jun's plate like a tower.
"I can't eat all this."
Nobody was eating any themselves; they just kept piling it onto Lee Jun's plate.
"Dig in. You said you were starving earlier."
Е ńū m̂_ā .ї d̆
"Gotta eat lots to grow tall."
"Jun, eat plenty of meat. Even the doctor said to eat lots."
All three adults said it at once.
Lee Jun blew on a piece to cool it and ate it. It was delicious.
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But there were still six pieces left on his plate.
And more was about to be piled on from the fresh batch on the grill.
W̆е b̂ ṅо̌v е̊ l Ѐ nü m̄ а̌
It was too much for a six-year-old to handle.
He had to find another way.
Lee Jun picked up a lettuce leaf. He set a piece of meat on it.
He'd watched his dad eat, so he knew how to make a wrap.
A spoonful of rice. A piece of meat. And a pepper.
His dad handled spicy food well. Even when eating sashimi at the Sashimi Restaurant, he'd eat whole cheongyang peppers.
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Lee Jun added one cheongyang pepper. Two cloves of garlic, too.
He wrapped it up tight and held it out to his dad.
"Dad. Ahh."
Lee Jeong-su looked down. A wrap sat in the small hand.
"...Ahh."
Lee Jeong-su took the whole thing in one bite and chewed.
Wе̂b̌.ń оv̀ e ĺ E n ǔ.m̀а
His mom, Han Su-jin, watched, looking touched.
"Aw, my boy. Making a wrap for your dad and all. How about one for Mom?"
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"Mm."
Lee Jun made the next wrap. Mom's.
One cheongyang pepper. Two cloves of garlic. And a smear of soybean paste.
"Mom. Ahh."
Е.n u̇m̈ а̌_
Han Su-jin took the wrap from his hand and ate it.
In one bite, just like his dad. Her cheeks looked ready to burst.
"That's good."
said his dad, having just barely swallowed the wrap in his own mouth.
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The wrap was so big his mom couldn't even chew it properly.
Lee Jun laughed.
Е̇num̀а .і̂ d̈
"Auntie's next."
"Really? Me too?"
Lee Jun made the third wrap.
Lettuce. Rice. Meat. And then.
Just like the ones he'd given his dad and mom, he added a cheongyang pepper. Two cloves of garlic, too.
"Auntie. Ahh."
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So-young opened her mouth with a smile.
A wrap made by her adorable nephew. She popped it in whole.
And chewed.
"...Mmf?!"
It was spicy.
No, spicy didn't begin to cover it.
E n üma
The whole cheongyang pepper crunched between her teeth. The garlic came up sharp and pungent.
"Mmmgh?!"
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The pepper and the garlic set off a chemical reaction. The heat rose from her mouth and shot straight through the top of her head.
So-young had never been good with spicy food.
She was the type to order even her kimchi stew mild.
But her nephew had made it for her. This was a wrap made by the dear nephew who'd painted his heart out earlier that day.
Еn̈ um ȧ ..і̆ d
And he was watching her right now. She couldn't spit it out.
So-young forced herself to chew. Tears welled in her eyes.
Her nose went red. Her lips trembled.
"Auntie, why are you crying?"
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"Mmh. Mmmh."
Her mouth was so full she couldn't get a word out.
È n̄ ū m̈ а
And on top of that, she was crying from the heat.
Han Su-jin looked at So-young and realized what was happening.
"Oh no, So-young. Drink some water, quick."
"Here, sister-in-law. Water."
Lee Jeong-su quickly filled a glass.
So-young gulped the water down. Half a glass in one go. She swallowed the wrap in her mouth along with it.
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Lee Jun looked at So-young with a worried face.
"Auntie, what's wrong?"
"N-nothing. It was just so good, that's all. Really."
She kept sipping water even as she answered.
Tears streamed from her eyes.
"Then I'll make you another one."
Ẅeb̌n ov ẽ l̀ Е nů mа̂
"No, Jun! You eat now, okay..."
So-young sniffled.
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Han Su-jin laughed. The corners of Lee Jeong-su's mouth turned up too.
"Oh my... could it be."
The owner, bringing over the side dishes, looked at Lee Jun.
Then she looked at the wall where the TV hung.
Е̃n̄ u m а
The child from the news earlier. The one in the blue beret.
"Aren't you that child who was on TV? The one who paints?"
"Yes. That's him."
Lee Jeong-su answered first. Pride in his son was written all over his face.
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The owner's face lit up.
"Oh my goodness! A celebrity, right here in my restaurant!"
Ĕnu m̀_а.і̃ d̊.
"He's no celebrity, but..."
"Wait right here!"
The owner ran off to the kitchen.
A moment later she came back with a tray. A soybean-paste stew, a towering steamed egg, and two bowls of naengmyeon.
"These are on the house! I saw it on TV, the painting and all. My daughter cried watching it, I swear!"
"Oh, you really didn't have to."
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
"Not at all. It's an honor just to have you eating here. Enjoy! I made it mild, so the little ones can have some too."
The owner went back with a smile.
A whole spread of free food had come out. But everyone was already getting full.
"The owner gave us all this. Let's at least have a little."
The whole family forced down the free food too.
It was as they finished and were leaving.
È n̊ǔ m ӑ. ï d̄
The owner came over holding something.
A sheet of A4 paper and a marker.
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"Um, could I maybe get an autograph? To put up on the wall."
A few autographs from famous people were stuck to the wall.
A comedian. The local National Assembly member. A food YouTuber.
Lee Jun looked up at So-young.
Ẅè b́ ṅоv̀ е̂ l̇ Еn̆ um ā
"What's an autograph?"
"It's writing your name. In a cool way."
"In a cool way?"
Lee Jun hadn't finished learning his letters yet. He could write his own name, but 'in a cool way' was beyond him.
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[You've got something better. A painter gives a drawing instead of an autograph.]
the Shadow said, pleased with himself.
Én u̇ m a . іd̆
[I did the same in my day, traded a drawing for a meal. At a café in Montparnasse. A portrait in place of food. A fair deal, in its way.]
Lee Jun looked at the owner.
"Can I draw a picture instead of an autograph?"
"A picture? Of course! Absolutely!"
The owner's face lit up even more.
Lee Jun took the sheet of A4 paper. He thought for a moment about what to draw.
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There was a mascot on the sign at the entrance.
A drawing of a pig in a chef's hat.
A fat face with a snout.
A round body. A chef's hat. Smiling eyes.
A hoof holding a pair of meat tongs.
After studying the mascot for a moment, Lee Jun began to draw.
Е n ù mа.і̄d
Shk-shk-shk.
The brisk sound of the marker gliding across the paper carried on.
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"Oh my goodness!"
The drawing was done in an instant.
A drawing made with nothing but a black marker, no color at all.
And yet it couldn't have been more perfect. It was more mascot than the mascot itself.
Ë nu ṁа́ .і d̄
Beneath the drawing, Lee Jun wrote his name.
'Lee Jun'
In shaky, uneven letters. Legible, all the same.
The owner took the drawing.
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"Goodness, you're really giving me this?"
"Yes."
Е̂ n̂uma
"This is going to be worth a fortune someday, isn't it?"
Lee Jeong-su let out a dry chuckle.
"The samgyeopsal was great."
"Thanks for the meal."
The owner stuck the drawing straight up on the wall, without even laminating it.
That night, the samgyeopsal place became a legend, the restaurant with a pig drawn by a six-year-old genius painter hanging on its wall.
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[I was quite popular in Montparnasse myself. Six cafés had my work on their walls.]
the Shadow said, puffing himself up.
[Everyone came clamoring for me to draw for them. The cafés I gave paintings to back then have probably made a fortune by now.]
On the way home.
Lee Jun had to sit through the Shadow's stories, boast or bluster, he couldn't tell which, the whole way there.
*****
Ё n u̇ m̆ á
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