Covetous Sponsorship (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 16

The next day, just past noon, Ga Eul was deeply immersed in her work when her phone suddenly vibrated, prompting her to pause briefly and pick it up.

It was a message from the Director regarding the exhibition.

[Ga Eul, I’ve received your paintings. There’s something I’d like to discuss about the upcoming exhibition—if you’re free today, could you drop by my office for a moment?]

Ga Eul tilted her head slightly.

‘Is there something wrong with my paintings?’

That morning, she’d already selected the best pieces and sent them to the gallery.

Not quite grasping what this might be about, she felt a little puzzled—but quickly replied with a brief message agreeing to come, then began tidying up her studio.

She wiped the paint off her brush onto a paper towel and swirled it in a container filled with cleaning solution.

Knowing her materials needed proper care, she hurried as fast as possible—but still, quite a bit of time had slipped by unnoticed.

Just as Ga Eul was about to step out of her studio, she suddenly glanced down at her outfit and froze.

‘Oh no… my clothes are way too dirty.’

If she stopped by the annex to change, it would cost her even more time. Yet, showing up as she was—splattered all over with paint—was clearly out of the question.

Ga Eul let out a quiet groan of frustration.

‘Well, I guess there’s no choice.’

Despite the early summer heat, she grabbed an outer layer to wear over her clothes.

* * *

“Hello, Director?”

“You’re here already, Ga Eul? You came so quickly. It’s gotten really hot lately, hasn’t it? Please, have a seat. Let me get you something to drink.”

“Oh—thank you.”

Director Park warmly welcomed her and returned shortly with a glass of iced tea, ice cubes clinking gently inside.

Ga Eul smiled brightly and took a sip. Even though the weather had warmed up, she’d stubbornly layered on an outer garment and was feeling quite warm—so the cool drink helped her feel a little more alive.

Watching Ga Eul enjoy the tea with evident satisfaction, Director Park studied her expression cautiously before speaking.

“He’s been quite busy lately, so he asked me to pass this along on his behalf.”

“It’s a bit delicate, but the President suggested you consider redoing the paintings you submitted for this exhibition.”

“…Why? Is there something wrong with my work…?”

Ga Eul asked in surprise, prompting Director Park—evidently hesitant—to elaborate at length.

“No, no! Not at all. There’s nothing wrong. It’s just… he’d really like to see paintings that are uniquely yours. Since you’re still young and full of potential, he thought this exhibition should be less about displaying perfectly executed pieces and more about taking creative risks. Um, so….”

He was unusually wordy today.

“He’d prefer you didn’t follow your father’s painting style… and suggested you strip all that away for now.”

“…What?”

Caught completely off guard, Ga Eul was visibly flustered.

For nearly ten years, she’d painted exactly that way—and the Chairman had always wanted it. Though not yet perfect, she’d grown confident in her ability; she’d believed that with time, she could paint works indistinguishable from her father’s.

Everyone had expected it—and because of it, she’d received nothing but praise for being far ahead of her peers.

And now…

‘Strip all that away…?’

Honestly, it was a little embarrassing.

She’d assumed he’d accepted her precisely because he approved of her current style.

She’d thought signing the contract would be the end of her worries—but now she feared his standards might be even stricter than the Chairman’s.

“Still, the President seems quite impressed with your work. He doesn’t usually offer advice about painting… um, he’s not really the type to give much feedback at all. Normally…”

Director Park held back slightly, but Ga Eul understood his implication perfectly.

Having lived at the estate for nearly a decade and observed his demeanor intermittently, she knew he wasn’t the sort to go out of his way to teach or advise anyone—such a tedious task would be beneath him. In fact, he likely wouldn’t have signed the contract at all if it meant that kind of effort.

Which made his instruction to create entirely new paintings even more puzzling.

“Um… Director, do you personally see any issues with my current work? Do you feel it’s… not good enough…?”

Director Park immediately shook his head.

“No, of course not—that’s impossible.”

It was a genuine question born of confusion, but he seemed to misinterpret it as her feeling hurt, so he kept adding explanations.

He insisted her current pieces were perfectly suitable for immediate exhibition and admitted he himself didn’t understand why the President had made such a suggestion.

“Well, anyway! Just give it a try. We won’t know whether we can include anything in the exhibition until you actually produce some new work.”

Though phrased like a suggestion, it was effectively a finalized decision.

“…Alright.”

She lacked confidence, but—

“If things don’t work out, we can always fall back on your current paintings, so don’t feel too pressured.”

Though she had many more questions, Ga Eul decided against pressing further.

After all, the Director was merely relaying orders—and he himself looked rather flustered.

“Then I’ll give it a try and send over only the pieces I think are suitable.”

“Good thinking. So, Ga Eul, please aim to send us a few more pieces before the exhibition! You won’t be short on time, but it’s not overly generous either—so please work diligently.”

“Yes, I will.”

Director Park gently patted Ga Eul’s shoulder, noticing her reluctance to smile.

Knock knock—just then, a light knock came from outside. A gallery staff member who’d been manning the front desk cautiously opened the door to announce a visitor.

“Um… there’s someone here to see you.”

“Oh, really? I’ll be right out.”

As Director Park nodded and started to step out of the office, the staff member quickly shook her head with an awkward expression.

“No—it’s for Ms. Yoon Ga Eul.”

* * *

‘Who would come all the way to the gallery looking for me?’

No matter how hard she thought, Ga Eul couldn’t imagine anyone who’d visit her—so her head tilted unconsciously to one side.

She quickly left the office and headed straight to the first-floor lobby. Not knowing who was waiting for her, she aimlessly scanned the area—when suddenly someone tapped her shoulder from behind.

Startled, Ga Eul spun around—and there he was.

The man she’d met just a few days ago at the dinner he’d invited her to:

Shin Yeon Woo, Chairman Shin’s grandson.

Dressed in a soft sky-blue shirt, he looked even more relaxed and approachable than he had in his neat suit the first time they’d met. The warm, crinkled-eye smile he gave her resembled that of a gentle, affectionate puppy.

‘But… why did he come here?’

She’d assumed they wouldn’t meet again—yet here he was, just days later, seeking her out in person.

Shocked, Ga Eul could only blink wide-eyed at Yeon Woo.

Seeing her reaction, Yeon Woo chuckled softly and asked kindly,

“Surprised?”

“Oh—yes, a little. But… what brings you all the way here?”

“I don’t have your number, but I heard you’re affiliated with this gallery, so I thought I might run into you if I dropped by.”

“…Me?”

“Yes. Who else would I possibly come all this way to see?”

Just like their first meeting, he showed no trace of shyness. With a bright, refreshing smile, Yeon Woo quickly scanned Ga Eul from head to toe—then suddenly grinned wider.

‘What’s he smiling at?’

Following his gaze, Ga Eul turned—and instantly realized her mistake.

In the heat, she’d reluctantly worn an outer layer out of the studio… but had removed it momentarily and completely forgotten to put it back on before coming downstairs.

Mortification flooded her, and her face instantly flushed deep pink.

She recalled all the people she’d passed on her way to the lobby—and wondered why no one had said a word.

Meanwhile, Yeon Woo, having recognized the colorful splatters as paint, asked,

“These are all paint, right? Did you just come straight from painting?”

“Yes, exactly. Let me go grab my outer layer—just one moment!”

As Ga Eul hurriedly turned to leave, Yeon Woo caught her wrist.

Startled by the sudden contact, she looked back at him—and he shook his head gently.

“It’s fine. All those bright colors are actually kind of cute.”

“…Oh. Okay.”

Whatever else Yeon Woo said barely registered in Ga Eul’s ears. All she wanted was to escape the situation as quickly as possible.

Watching her fidget with her captured wrist and glance anxiously around, Yeon Woo’s eyes softened into another gentle smile as he asked,

“How about we go somewhere quieter?”

Then, he led her away.

“Let’s go, Ga Eul.”

* * *

The place Yeon Woo took her was a café located a short distance from the gallery.

Since they’d been seated in an unoccupied area, Ga Eul stopped trying to hide her outfit.

Still wearing that ever-cheerful smile, he watched her subtly shift her body backward in her seat.

Noting her discomfort but choosing not to mention it, Yeon Woo instead asked,

“What would you like to drink, Ga Eul?”

“I’ll just have an Americano.”

“Got it. You stay here—I’ll go get it myself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Shin Yeon Woo…”

Yeon Woo returned shortly with two Americanos.

They’d only met twice—yet how could someone be so effortlessly friendly with zero social reserve? It struck her as almost miraculous.

But more than that—it was bewildering.

The idea that a man she’d randomly encountered just once would track her down to the gallery doorstep.

Unlike Ga Eul, Yeon Woo simply smiled, placed one cup in front of her, and smoothly steered the conversation.

“I came because I had something to tell you. I’m glad I found you. If I come by the gallery again next time, will I get to see you?”

Ga Eul accepted the cup but didn’t sip from it as she replied,

“No. I only go to the gallery when I have business there—so even if you visit, it’s unlikely we’ll run into each other.”

“Then I guess I was lucky today?”

“Yes… I suppose so.”

As the conversation flowed naturally, Ga Eul grew cautious—but then Yeon Woo unexpectedly thrust his phone toward her.

“If I have your number, we won’t miss each other again.”

“Huh? Why would I…?”

When Ga Eul didn’t take the phone, Yeon Woo placed it firmly in her hand and urged gently,

“Hurry up.”

“…”

She wasn’t cold-hearted—but giving her number to a man whose motives she didn’t understand felt strange.

Noticing her open wariness, Yeon Woo simply shrugged and said,

“Don’t you want your father’s paintings back?”

“…What?”

“I made time specifically to come here because I think I can tell you how to get them back. But I’ll need your number to stay in touch, won’t I?”

“Really?”

Ga Eul’s face instantly brightened.

Seeing her—wearing a paint-splattered shirt yet beaming with the purest, most radiant smile—Yeon Woo nearly let out a laugh and briefly covered his mouth.

Then, with that same gentle grin, he waved his phone playfully in front of her.

“Then go ahead and type in your number.”

.

.

.

After exchanging numbers, Yeon Woo offered to drive Ga Eul back to the gallery, and she naturally got into his car.

All the way back, Ga Eul thought of nothing but her father’s paintings.

‘He can get them back for me… how? Could he possibly persuade Chairman Shin…?’

Though Yeon Woo mentioned it might take some time and wouldn’t be easy right away, Ga Eul immediately replied that she didn’t mind waiting however long it took.

If she could just recover them—what did a little extra time matter? After all, she’d spent nearly ten long years missing her father’s paintings.

Compared to that decade, any wait would be trivial.

Soon, the gallery came into view, and Ga Eul unbuckled her seatbelt to get out.

But Yeon Woo got out too.

“You really don’t need to walk me in.”

“I’ll just say hello and leave. I’m a busy man, you know.”

True to his word, he stepped out just to wave goodbye.

His kindness and consideration made her feel oddly guilty for having shown such obvious suspicion since the café.

‘To someone who wants to help me get my paintings back… what was I even thinking?’

“Goodbye.”

“Alright. See you next time, Ga Eul.”

He truly did just say goodbye—then immediately got back into the driver’s seat.

Yeon Woo’s car quickly pulled away from the gallery, and Ga Eul turned to head back inside to retrieve the outer layer she’d left behind.

But then—

“…President?”

Just like Ga Eul moments before, he stood there watching the car disappear into the distance.

Surprised, Ga Eul called out to him—and only then did he turn his gaze toward her, lightly tapping the top of her head as he asked,

“What was that? Your boyfriend?”

“No!”

Her overly emphatic denial made Gi Tae chuckle softly.

If not, then not—but why react so dramatically? His curiosity stirred oddly, and a question he wouldn’t normally ask slipped out.

“Then…?”

“He’s just someone I happened to meet a few days ago at Chairman Shin’s house while viewing my father’s paintings. He’s Chairman Shin’s grandson.”

“Ah.”

Gi Tae let out a short sound of recognition—then asked with apparent puzzlement,

“But you two aren’t involved or anything, right?”

“No! This was only the second time we’ve met.”

She nodded vigorously to emphasize her point—prompting Gi Tae to gaze lazily at the now-empty road ahead and mutter softly,

“Seems like he doesn’t see it that way…”