The Mysterious Art Museum

Chapter 158 (2) - The Mysterious Art Museum



Chapter 158 (2) - The Mysterious Art Museum

Even after waking from the dream, I sat still for a long time, head bowed, sobbing.

The pain and sorrow embedded in his life. And his heart, loving life and people to the end. What if I had gone through something like that?

'Could I have cared for the boy's future until my last moment?'

Probably not.

I would have resented the boy deeply.

I wouldn't have called the police right away. Survival comes first.

I would've called an ambulance, and while receiving treatment at the hospital, I likely would have told the police everything. Many people would have done the same.

I can't say Van Gogh's actions were right. Given that the boy's name wasn't heard afterward, it seems Van Gogh's sacrifice didn't make the boy's life more beautiful or shining.

'Maybe he spent a lifetime in pain because of that memory, dying in anguish.'

If the boy had been bad, full of evil thoughts, I would have hated him.

But the René I saw wasn't such a child. It was an accident, not intentional.

And Van Gogh's sacrifice changed a child's future.

Van Gogh returned to the inn and suffered a high fever for about 30 hours.

After rushing here, disregarding everything, he told his brother, the doctor, and the police, who had arrived, that he shot himself, then he became a star.

I wiped my tears and looked at the wall where his paintings were being displayed.

"I want to set things right."

The mad painter who cut off his ear and ultimately chose suicide.

I want to rectify this incident that cast such a stigma on him.

But who would believe it?

Pulitzer Prize winners Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith claimed in their biography of Van Gogh that he attempted suicide to protect a boy who had shot him, providing a false testimony.

However, the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam stated they couldn't agree with their conclusion due to insufficient evidence to support their claims.

I sighed and took out my phone to search the boy's name, then covered my face again.

"Van Gogh... the child you protected with your death. He died the following year."

Such immense regret.

The fact that the life of the boy Van Gogh tried to protect with his life ended so vainly.

How would Van Gogh, who became a star, have watched this? How much would he have grieved and wept in the heavens?

I sighed deeply from the bottom of my heart.

And I thought of one common thought shared by all the masters I've met so far.

And it aligns exactly with what Teacher Alphonse Mucha, whom I first met, said.

'Have I really been of help to the world?'

* * *

One year later, Udo.

The couple running a natural rockfish restaurant looked at Jeong-hoon with wide eyes. He gestured to the flat, large envelope they were holding, smiling.

"It's a gift. Thank you for everything."

Realizing it was a farewell, the uncle they had seen often for two years showed a hint of sadness.

"Leaving now?"

"Yes, back to where I originally belonged."

"I've grown fond of you."

"Me too."

"What's this? Why such a big gift?"

"It's a painting, drawn by me."

"A painting? Are you an artist?"

Jeong-hoon smiled broadly and nodded.

"Yes, if you like it, please hang it in your store."

"Uh... I don't know much about paintings."

"That's okay. If it brings peace and happiness to your heart, that's enough."

"Yes... Will you always be healthy and be able to see you again?"

"Yes, I will come down again."

"Alright, take care."

As Jeong-hoon climbs back onto his scooter, the uncle watches him pensively and after he leaves, he says to his wife,

"There's another painting on the scooter."

"He must be on his way to the Haenyeo village. He said he used to stop by there often, not just at our shop."

"Is he going to gift a painting there too?"

"Probably, let me see it."

"Here."

The aunt carefully unwraps the well-packaged canvas she received from her husband, and her eyes widen in amazement as the painting is revealed.

"Oh my!"

"Why?"

"My goodness, such a talented artist!"

"Let me see."

"Look at this, honey. It’s our shop."

"What? Really, it’s our shop?"

The canvas shows their shop, beautifully painted with its name included.

It seems to have been painted in spring, as the forsythia flowers bloom profusely around the shop, glowing yellow and giving off a warm feeling.

The aunt, who was admiring the painting, quickly runs to where a clock is hung, climbs on a chair, and replaces it with the painting.

"How about here?"

"No, how about right there, where it can be seen as soon as you enter?"

The uncle points to a spot where a large menu is hung.

It might seem foolish to remove the menu, the most important thing in the shop, and hang the painting instead, but today, the aunt has no intention of scolding him and quickly replaces the menu with the painting, smiling contentedly.

"Then we have to hang the menu somewhere else. Wow, it’s really well done. How could he paint it so warmly? Our guests will remember this painting more than the taste of our fish."

The couple stands side by side, looking at the painting.

The uncle, after scrutinizing the painting, nods his head.

"That young man was right."

"About what?"

"That a painting is just meant to be seen and enjoyed."

"Yes, really."

The uncle, with his arms crossed, looks at the painting, then suddenly checks the time and quickly says,

"It’s time for the boat to come in. Let’s get ready for business."

"Oh, is it that time already? Honey, go check if we have enough fish."

"Alright, you take care of the kitchen."

"The same work I always do."

The wife enters the kitchen, and the uncle, after checking the fish in the aquarium, looks at the painting again and smiles broadly.

Just looking at it makes him happy. The fact that their cherished sushi restaurant, which they built together after coming to this island 20 years ago, looks so beautiful to others feels wonderful.

The uncle, gazing at the painting, suddenly notices a signature at the bottom right and his eyes widen.

"Whoa, the artist even signed it, let's see. The signature is… Ban… Jeong… Hoon?"

The uncle confirms the signature again and frowns.

"Ban Jeong-hoon? Where have I heard that name? Where did I hear it?"

Just then, a tourist couple enters the sushi restaurant. The uncle quickly gathers himself and greets the customers.

"Welcome! The boat must have already come in?"

"Hello! Do you have sea bream?"

"Of course, what kind? Red? Spotted? We also have flounder."

"Please give us red sea bream."

"Oh, you’re choosing an expensive one. Lucky first customers. Haha!"

As the uncle prepares the sea bream, he overhears the couple’s conversation.

"Wow, this painting is amazing. Such a wonderful painting in a small island sushi shop."

"Whose painting is it?"

"I don’t know, probably an unknown artist. It’s not a famous painting."

"There’s a signature there."

"Really? Let me see… Wow!"

"Why, what?"

"Look, darling! It's a Ban Jeong-hoon painting, this one!"

"No way? What are you talking about, why would a Ban Jeong-hoon painting be here? Is it fake?"

"It looks real, there’s a signature here!"

Overhearing the couple's conversation while cutting the fish, the uncle tilts his head in confusion.

"Was he a famous person? Ah, I should have treated him better."

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