Chapter 129 (2) - The Mysterious Art Museum


    Reluctantly following her husband to the chair on the grass, Meloni takes a pose with an awkward, embarrassed face.


    Jeong-hoon, who is speaking English, is heardughing. Her husband trantes for her.


    "He says to think of it like a pic with your husband? It''s okay to talk to me as long as you don''t turn your head."


    Meloni whispers, ncing at Jeong-hoon.


    "Does he speak Italian?"


    "No, not at all."


    Relieved that he won''t understand their conversation, Meloni rolls her eyes and says.


    "Honey, I''d rather we spent the money on something good for our baby. I''ll let it go this time, but never do this again. A portrait is too much for our situation."


    “Haha, okay. Let’s just do it this once, when will we get such an opportunity again?”


    “Is there even any guarantee that his portrait will have any value? Is it really worth spending 80 euros?”


    80 euros is a little over 110,000 won in Korean currency.


    It might not be a big deal, but for people who live day by day, it''s a significant amount, and Meloni still hesitates.


    Seeing that the painter had already started sketching, she resigned herself to the situation and looked at her husband.


    Her husband is all smiles, as if everything is fine.


    They left their baby with the neighbors, but here it seems like there''s another baby, who only causes trouble.


    “Sigh.”


    Meloni, sitting facing the cathedral with the parking lot in view, initially feels awkward but gradually bes more natural as she chats intermittently with her husband.


    Thinking of it as just getting some fresh air, she sitsfortably but starts to feel bored after about two hours.


    “When will it end?”


    Her husband, standing behind the painter, checks the painting and says with a bright face, “He’s coloring now. Wow, but he’s really good at painting. His skill is iparable to the old man in our neighborhood’s small art studio. The painting seems alive.”


    “Really?”


    “Yes, the cathedral behind you is also being beautifully painted. His hands move so fast. How can he paint like that in just two hours? Is he a famous painter?”


    “Don’t you feel foolish formissioning work without even checking if he’s a famous painter?”


    “Haha, what does it matter? As long as the result is good.”


    “Really...”


    Meloni turns her gaze away, looking unimpressed.


    But then, her eyes sparkle with curiosity.


    She sees several vans in the parking lot direction, and peopleden with camera equipment hurrying towards the cathedral.


    Meloni murmurs, watching the reporters’ stickers on the cars, “What’s happening at the cathedral? I’ve never seen so many journalists rush in like that.”


    Yona, the taxi driver, who heard his wife, cranes his neck and looks into the distance, saying, “Yeah, what’s that? One, two… more than ten. Are they all journalists?”


    “Seems like it.”


    Reporters rush into the cathedral,peting with each other. Then, a tall man running with a female journalist nces this way and stops.


    He squints his eyes, trying to get a clear view of this side.


    The woman, having reached the cathedral first, curses and gestures with her hands.


    Then, the man turns to her, shouts something, and points in this direction.


    The woman also stares intently this way, then suddenly, aware of her surroundings, dashes towards them like the wind.


    “Those people, they seem to being this way.”


    “Uh, what?”


    “Don’t tell me you’ve caused some trouble?”


    “What are you talking about? Even if I had caused some trouble, it wouldn’t have attracted journalists.”


    The two people are running straight towards them. Meloni swallows hard, realizing their intention is focused on them.


    And finally, the two people approach within a distance of 10 meters.


    The woman yells out loudly.


    “Ban! Is that Ban?”


    Jeong-hoon, who had been focusing on his painting, nces up.


    “Sounds like they called my name, but I don’t speak Italian.”


    The woman quickly pulls out a business card and speaks in English.


    “I’m Isabe, a journalist from Vogue Italy. Could we have a moment for an interview?”


    Meloni’s face hardens.


    “Vogue Italy?”


    A journalist from one of the world’s most famous fashion magazines, including Italy, is requesting an interview. Meloni looks at her husband with a shocked expression, and he is just as surprised.


    It’s unclear whether Jeong-hoon is too focused on his painting or just uninterested in the journalists, as he continues painting.


    “I’m sorry, but I am in the middle of work. Could you please wait a bit?”


    Isabe, sweating, nces towards the cathedral and says.


    “Of course, I can wait as long as needed, but could we perhaps move to a quieter and more secluded ce?”


    “I’m nearly finished with the background work. It will take about ten minutes.”


    Jeong-hoon, having told the uninvited journalist to wait just ten minutes, has shown enough courtesy, but the journalist is fidgety like a puppy in need of a bathroom break, constantly ncing towards the cathedral.


    At that moment, journalists who had rushed into the cathedral spilled out and began running towards them, shouting.


    "Ban! I''m from World Magazine! Please, we''d like an interview!"


    "Ban! Interview with us first, please, we''re an art magazine!"


    "If you''re a painter, you should definitely start with an art magazine interview! Ban, over here!"


    Seeing more than ten journalists running towards thewn and shouting, Meloni, frozen, turns to her husband.


    "Honey... Who exactly have you brought here?"


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