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Chapter 70 Part 2 - The Mysterious Art Museum

A street artist's life changed when he ended up at a mysterious art museum. DBT,Korean,Novel,Translation,Art,Artist,Slice of life,Poor to Rich,Mystery

At twelve o'clock at night.


For the past two hours, I secretly sat in the back row of the theater, listening to Irina's performance. Even though it was just a practice, Irina's music was flawless as if it were the real deal.


Of course, there might have been minor mistakes, but I wouldn’t have noticed them.


As the practice ends, Irina, who had never looked in my direction, finally turns her gaze towards me.


She must have guessed I was somewhere in the theater since I called beforehand.


Noticing me looking around, I quietly raised my hand to indicate my location.


Irina nods and stands up from her seat.


Looking back, Irina, who had been playing the piano for two hours straight without a score, seemed dazzling as if she was wearing a dress, though she was actually in tracksuits.


Irina, having come to me after the practice, finally asks why I had come to watch.


“What's the matter?”


“Just doing my job.”


“Your job?”


“Painting.”


“···············”


Irina pauses to think for a moment and then nods slightly, smiling.


“Have you eaten?”


“I had a late lunch, so I'm thinking of skipping dinner. Did you eat, Irina?”


“I don't eat anything before my practice is over.”


Huh? Didn't she say she practices until right before she sleeps? Then, has she been fasting all day?


“You haven't eaten anything since morning?”


Irina gently smiles and places her hand over her chest.


“A heart full from food knows no passionate love.”


A heart full from food knows no passionate love.


Probably, these words express the emotions found in Chopin's music.


She is making these efforts to better express Chopin's essence.


She truly is an incredible musician.


I got up and looked at the clock.


“There must be a restaurant open at this hour... Ah, the hotel will have prepared something, right?”


Meticulous Minyoung wouldn’t have missed this.


The hotel will probably provide a meal in a room service style.


Irina's eyes change momentarily when I bring up the restaurant.


“The food Jung Hoon introduced me to was delicious.”


Huh? Ah, she must be talking about the grilled intestines.


I looked fondly at the foreigner who enjoyed our food.


“If you ever want to eat Korean food, just let me know.”


“It's too late now, isn't it?”


I smiled broadly and gave a thumbs up.


“Korea is a country of the night. You can still find plenty to eat at this hour.”


Irina looked surprised. After all, in Europe, there are hardly any restaurants open past midnight. I saw her surprised look and stood up.


“Shall we go eat?”


A person who sat in front of a cold air conditioner all day long, only playing the piano.


For such a person, a warm bowl of soup is necessary.


Even on a hot summer night, the theater is quite cold.


Debating between galbitang and sundae-guk, I remembered Irina had no aversion to internal organ dishes and headed to the sundae-guk place I used to go with Youngju when our ceiling painting work ended late. The bodyguards had to work night shifts because of this, but that's their job.


Irina was really amazed that there are many restaurants open at this time and that women could walk around alone or even drunkenly at this late hour. In Europe, walking alone past 10 pm could be dangerous, regardless of gender.


As someone who's never been outside Korea, it's a foreign concept to me.


When we arrived at the sundae-guk restaurant and ordered two bowls of soup and boiled meat, the meat arrived first. Irina was surprised again when the food came out within five minutes of sitting down.


“Everything's really fast in Korea, Jung Hoon.”


Irina, holding the meat that doesn't look appetizing to foreigners, asked.


“Which part of the meat is this?”


Hmm, what's oxtail in English? I don't know.


“It's probably somewhere near the top of the pig, try it.”


“Do I just eat it like this?”


“No, dip it in ssamjang or sesame oil, and eat it with kimchi or leeks.”


Irina, a bit scared, cautiously dips the oxtail in sesame oil. She makes a curious face and tilts her head.


“It's not bad, but I can't quite place the taste.”


Well, as long as it's not bad, that's fine.


“It gets tastier the more you eat. Try it with the raw onions and peppers.”


She grimaced when eating the raw onions and peppers, but when the sundae-guk arrived, she followed my lead in slurping down the rice mixed soup.


“Wow! This is delicious.”


I've always wondered.


Why do I feel so good when a foreigner says our food is delicious? What does it matter to me whether they like it or not? Anyway, I still don't know the reason, but it feels good.


Eventually, I couldn't resist and ordered soju too.


Irina, who had tasted soju at a grilled intestines restaurant, offered her glass. Thanks to Monica, who is at the forefront of spreading Korean culture, Irina already knows that others should fill her glass.


As we drank about half a bottle, a slight buzz started.


Irina, who had fasted all day and started with alcohol for her first meal, was a bit more buzzed than me.


Her face quickly turned red, and she started laughing for no reason.


What's this, suddenly so cute?


Even the icy beauty Irina becomes cute when drunk. It's a shame to enjoy this cuteness alone.


As she sips her soju, Irina asked.


“So, Jung Hoon. Will you keep coming to watch my practice?”


“Is that okay?”


“You really want to come every day?”


“If you allow it.”


Irina looked genuinely happy.


“Then will you eat with me every day?”


“··················”


Wait, has she been eating alone until now? Suddenly, I feel sympathetic.


"Should I?"


"Really?"


Irina's face lights up with genuine joy. What's the use of being a world-famous pianist if you have no friends to eat with, wandering aimlessly abroad? I wouldn't do it.


"Just do me one favor in return."


"Anything, tell me."


I look at Irina, filled with anticipation, and smile mischievously.


"Tell me about Chopin, who he was to you."


"··················"


Irina blinked, seemingly caught off guard by the unexpected question. However, she then showed a beaming smile I had never seen before.


"Of course! Let me tell you how great Chopin was! He was born to a French father and a Polish mother. He performed in front of the Russian emperor and received accolades, and then···"


Wait, did I just see Irina's face overlap with Young-ju's?


Is it my imagination, or do I sense an intense fan vibe from her?



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