High Relief (高浮彫)
It's a type of carving.
First, relief carving (부조) refers to engraving shapes so they stand out on a flat surface. The term high (고) is added when the raised part of the relief is thick and tall.
If the thickness is low, it's called low relief.
If the thickness is high, it's called high relief.
Usually, relief carvings are used as decoration in sculpture or architecture, but here it seemed to be used as decoration on the broken support of the cradle.
Baek Myung-hee approached the work with a surprised face.
"Oh my...!"
A bird carved so delicately. Although she hadn't studied art, even a non-expert like her could feel an extraordinary elegance compared to other works she'd seen.
Somehow it felt sacred.
…but did something like this exist before? Baek Myung-hee tried to recall.
She didn't remember this furniture. And in Seok's furniture shop, there was no stock she didn't know about.
In other words, this must have appeared while she was away… and she had only been gone last night.
"Could it be... Seok's dad made this?"
A surprised muttering escaped her lips.
By the way, is this really a carving?
The bird's wings were crafted with too much care for a mere carving. It looked like it could fly out of the cradle any moment… surely it wasn't a real bird?
Even though it was just a protruding carving on a flat surface, it seemed suspicious. Baek Myung-hee carefully touched it with her index finger, cautiously skeptical.
She felt the texture of wood and the grain of feathers. Not smooth and glossy, but soft and velvety. It was like softness licking along her fingertip.
"Oh my, oh my, oh my...!"
Baek Myung-hee withdrew her finger with flushed cheeks. But only briefly. Her finger returned to gently stroke the bird's wing again and again. The texture was that fascinating.
This is wood? Like touching a tame bird that had quietly landed in her hands, Baek Myung-hee happily stroked the wing like a child.
"Chae-young, come touch this too. It looks like your dad made it last night."
"Dad made this...?"
A questioning expression crossed Kang Chae-young's face. There was no way her dad could make something this good… She thought of the furniture made by her dad that occupied her room.
Honestly, her dad's artistic sense was not something you could compliment. Only a little better than her older brother. To Chae-young, lack of talent was hereditary.
That's why it was surprising. Kang Hyun-do, the careless sculptor full of just passion and romance, had made this work.
"Wow... this is really..."
This was a human triumph. Kang Chae-young raised her phone and took many pictures of the cradle. It was worthy of being documented.
The continuous shutter sounds echoed in the workshop.
"Wow, how come even random shots come out this pretty."
Up, down. Up up down. Right, left. Front again. There wasn't a single unflattering angle. So pretty. Kang Chae-young kept admiring.
The mother bird passing food with her beak, the father bird spreading wings over the mother to protect the family as if crying out. It felt alive.
She wanted to brag.
But where to brag… just as Kang Chae-young was about to open CocoaTalk, her thumb stopped. She spotted Instagram.
Instagram. What if she posted the work here? Didn't they already have an Instagram for promoting Seok's furniture shop? Kang Chae-young pressed Instagram with her paused thumb.
"Mom."
"...Yes?"
"What's our furniture shop's Instagram ID again?"
"Furniture shop? Seok's furniture shop?"
"Yeah. Didn't we make one for promotion before?"
"Did we?"
"Yeah. I think so… what was the ID? Um... um... Ah! No, found it, found it. This one. It's okay, Mom. I found it."
Kang Chae-young's fingers sped up as she looked at the phone. Baek Myung-hee blinked at the busy fingers.
"Chae-young?"
"You know, Mom, how about posting this on Instagram..."
Click.
Just as Kang Chae-young excitedly showed Instagram to Baek Myung-hee—
"Ladies, what brings you to the workshop?"
"...! Ah, you scared me...!"
Kang Hyun-do appeared from the inner storage.
Closing the storage door, he smiled holding a camera with a large lens. The owner of the workshop must have gone in to fetch it.
"You...! Hah, hopeless. What brings you here? You've been staying out so late I had to come get you."
"Oh, you came to pick us up."
While Baek Myung-hee exchanged cheerful morning greetings with Kang Hyun-do, Kang Chae-young's eyes scanned the shop, still searching for the unseen Kang Seok.
"You should've come before to pick us up."
"Yeah, I shouldn't keep the ladies waiting."
"You say that, but have you eaten?"
"Not yet."
Baek Myung-hee's meals are good, you know. Kang Hyun-do answered with bowed head. He looked tired but secretly seemed in good spirits.
Baek Myung-hee looked carefully at Kang Hyun-do.
There was no trace of yesterday's gloom on his flushed face. It could really be that her husband made the cradle. Baek Myung-hee's belief tilted toward that truth.
Just as that thought arrived, Baek Myung-hee spoke cautiously.
"But you... this cradle—"
"Did Dad make this cradle?"
But Kang Chae-young was quicker. Her eyes sparkled as if she had just found breaking news about Kang Seok.
"Um?"
"This, this cradle, did Dad make it? And in just one day? Here?"
Like a kid who found a scoop, Kang Chae-young's joyful excitement was obvious.
"Ah, the cradle. Sorry to disappoint you ladies, but this is not my work."
"What...? It's not Dad's work?"
Confusion and disappointment flashed on Kang Chae-young's face. Baek Myung-hee sighed lightly following her disappointment and tilted her head.
It was because of Kang Hyun-do's somewhat proud face. If he didn't make it, why was he so pleased?
Baek Myung-hee narrowed her eyes.
"You. You really didn't make it?"
"You're not lying, right?" Baek Myung-hee pressed for an honest answer, but Kang Hyun-do slipped away smoothly.
"Not mine."
As he answered, Kang Hyun-do slightly bent his knees. Legs spread just wider than shoulder width, torso leaning a bit forward—as if ready to have his photo taken.
"Then who made it? Just say it. You worked here yesterday. Don't keep us in suspense...!"
"That's right, that's right!"
"I told you, the only thing I worked on was the chair beside the cradle. The chair."
Beside the cradle? Baek Myung-hee and Kang Chae-young's gaze naturally shifted to the side. There was a chair beside the cradle. A chair decorated with low relief grapevine carving on the backrest.
Unfinished...?
Unlike the cradle, the grapevine was only sketched about two-thirds and stopped there. Only then did they recall Kang Hyun-do had worked just overnight.
Actually, this was a typical pace.
No matter how much you reform or repair furniture, it was unlikely to make a high-relief cradle like that in a single night. It seemed more likely he had started the grapevine chair but didn't finish.
Then… what was this?
As curiosity about the cradle's origin returned, Kang Hyun-do, looking through his camera lens at the cradle, grinned broadly and said:
"The cradle was made by Seok."
Seok. There was only one Seok they knew.
Baek Myung-hee's eldest son, Kang Chae-young's older brother, Kang Hyun-do's son—Kang Seok. Hearing that this incredible work was made by Seok, their eyes widened almost popping out.
He made this in just one night...?
"Your brother?!"
"Seok did?"
"That's right. He carved this in one night, and I was watching beside him, amazed."
Kang Hyun-do rubbed the cradle proudly and chuckled.
"No... I don't understand why Professor Jeong Byung-kwon told Seok to quit art school when he's a guy who can make stuff like this."
Kang Hyun-do, in disbelief, turned to look at Baek Myung-hee.
"Besides, Seok got accepted into the still-life drawing Class A this time."
"...What? Our Seok?"
"That's what they say."
During the conversation between Baek Myung-hee and Kang Hyun-do, Kang Chae-young suddenly interrupted, surprised.
"That's Professor Jeong Byung-kwon, right? The one who told Oppa not to go to art school but a regular university instead!"
"That's such a weird person!"
Before, when she didn't know, Chae-young thought her brother really had no talent, but now, looking at the work Oppa made himself, she felt a surge of anger.
At Chae-young's words, Kang Hyun-do recalled that time. The vague memory of Jeong Byung-kwon's expression surfaced. What shimmered most was regret. Jeong Byung-kwon had the face of a teacher who hoped for Kang Seok to succeed just as much as he did.
"I thought it wasn't like that…"
"It was exactly like that…! No, if that's the case, how could Oppa quit when he has skills like this…!"
Kang Chae-young bit her lip. Oppa was always like this—stubborn, a pushover, a pushover again, a sea squirt, a sea anemone, a sea cucumber!
She thought she should properly say something this time… but where is Oppa?
"Dad, where's Oppa?"
Kang Chae-young turned her sharp hawk-like eyes to Kang Hyun-do.
"He already left."
"He left?"
That unexpected news.
Chae-young's eyes blinked in confusion.
Her gaze naturally dropped to the phone in her hand. Saturday. 8:55 AM. It was almost nine, but where could he be so early on a weekend?
"Even though it's Saturday…?"
"Because it's Saturday."
Baek Myung-hee, surprised by the answer, asked in curiosity.
"Wait, Seok already went to the academy? Did he eat first?"
"Academy? Oh, Oppa goes to an art academy every weekend."
She recalled the signboard of the sculpture academy Oppa was attending. But wasn't it supposed to start after 10 AM? A question formed over Kang Chae-young's face.
"No, I heard he has mural club activities today?"
Kang Hyun-do swiped through the photos he had just taken, resolving the question but raising another.
"Mural club?"
"Wasn't Oppa in the Buddha statue making club?"
Under the white sun.
A biting cold wind blew. It was winter.
I wanted to slap my past self who almost got kicked out from the Buddha statue club and moved to the mural club this spring. It was that cold.
I sighed at the cold seeping through my thin padded jacket.
'This is not the time to be standing here...'
I thought about the cradle left abandoned in my father's workshop. More precisely, about the high relief carving of the purple hawk family on the cradle.
'It's a pity it ended with such low completeness. If I remake it, I think I can get the feel right... Last life, I worked mostly on humans... no, that's not it.'
Did I work mostly on humans last life and never had the chance to carve animals? That was an excuse.
In my last life, I was definitely obsessed with muscles. I was busy admiring the male body.
But this life? Not so. I don't have a biased memory fixated on one kind of beauty.
I like both the straight lines of men and the curves of women.
I've had plenty of opportunities so far. I played around in my father's workshop since I was little and had many chances to work. I just didn't do it.
'From now on, I'll do well.'
I hope I can.
Kang Seok rubbed his aching arms after staying up all night carving. He sighed, feeling how clumsy his effort was.
Thinking back to a month ago when he proudly thought the calluses alone proved he worked hard, he sighed again.
This is all because I haven't tasted much hardship. My mom and dad spoiled me too much, Kang Seok thought, mocking himself, and made up his mind.
'I should start exercising.'
This stamina won't do. They say teens can even chew stones. I'm going to really try chewing stones.
I had some modest dreams too. I would revive the family and make everyone happy.
While reaffirming this small but great dream, students in long padded jackets laughed and chatted ahead. Naturally, my eyes turned towards them due to the noise.
"So, are you signing up for the Seogyo-dong academy this winter break?"
"I guess so. Even if Cheongdae changed to practical skills, the Cheongdae academy is still solid."
"True. By the way, didn't you say you're joining the logistics class?"
"Of course. My mom's set on sending me abroad if not logistics."
They were talking about art academies.
Winter break was approaching. After it ends, it's senior year. Less than half a year until the final exam frontlines, and the reality hit me suddenly.
That day's conversation flashed in my mind.
"They say it's common to spend 5 million won a month towards the end of exam prep."
Thinking about it, the final exam prep cost was 5 million won. Five million. Is it even worth paying that much for the academy? Lost in thought,
Joo Sa-rang, the teacher in charge of the Cheonghwa Art High School mural club, walked over.
Her hair was bleached yellow like a chick.
She walked clumsily wearing a paint-stained jacket, with a nylon brush and pencil stuck like a hairpin — resembling a college student who just finished night work.
"Hey kids, hi."
Yawning, with red eyes under her lids, she waved both hands.
Like a theme park guide waving, she put on sunglasses on her head like a headband and spoke.
"Sorry for calling you on Saturday. But you know today's important."
Yes.
Today was the final mural club painting activity, the finale of the spring mural club.
The high school mural exhibition was held today.
"Winning is obviously ours. Got it?"
Joo Sa-rang took her hands off her face. Her black eyes appeared. There was no gleam in them.
I recalled her legendary early spring saying: "If you don't do it right, you'll end up stuck to the wall like an Egyptian mural."
Of course, those black eyes were not looking at me.
Originally, the mural club was created for students majoring in Western painting.
I was a leftover thrown into the mural club after the Buddha statue club got full with talented kids.
Because of that, Joo Sa-rang never looked at me until today. Her attention was solely on the other students.
Luckily. If she expected passion and effort from me, it would have been a big hassle.
Since the moment I remembered my past life, murals had become something I was tired of even looking at.
"The prize money for the high school mural exhibition organized by the city is…"
'I'll just pretend to paint and slip away…'
"One million won. One million won."
What?
I suddenly lifted my head, which had been staring at the floor.
It was an amount I couldn't ignore. Whether or not I cared, Joo Sa-rang continued calmly.
"Painting murals in winter is so tough, and one million is all you get. They take advantage of us because we're high schoolers. I felt sorry for you all. So I decided: if we win, you get one million won."
"Woooow!"
The kids shouted.
I kept my composure. If we divide one million won, how much would it be? Calmly, I started counting the number of mural club members. In truth, my heart was already fluttering wildly.
Then Joo Sa-rang spoke again.
"Out of that, five hundred thousand goes to the best performer. Deal?"