"Trifles make perfection, and perfection is no trifle."
– Michelangelo Buonarroti –
A pale white sky unique to winter.
A sun even whiter than that.
In front of a gray stone wall, the statue of the celestial maiden and the woodcutter stood, proudly showing off its pristine beauty.
In this picture-perfect, breathtaking scene—
Even white mist, like clouds plucked from the heavens, floated and swirled gently.
The mystical view, exuding an almost sacred aura, made the three men think the same thing at the same time:
"How is this even possible?"
What filled their minds was a kind of shocked curiosity.
What on earth had Kang-seok done to the statue this time to make the clouds float so magically around the celestial maiden?
Their eyes, full of wonder, darted about. To be more precise, they were looking for Kang-seok.
And within less than a minute, they spotted him standing nearby.
Kang-seok gave Park Sun-woo, Ryu Jeong-hyung, and Jin Do-wook a faint smile. Only Jin Do-wook, who had watched Kang-seok more closely than the others, understood what that smile meant.
"He's enjoying this."
Soon, Park Sun-woo also realized that Kang-seok was pleased at having surprised them, and he spoke up.
"Our dear artist Kang, I'd really love for you to explain this magic you've pulled off. I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight unless I find out how this is even possible… could you tell us?"
Park Sun-woo subtly tried to coax the answer out of him, but Ryu Jeong-hyung gave a polite look, as if to say such probing wasn't appropriate.
"CEO, this might be the artist's secret technique. I'm curious too, but it wouldn't be right to ask him so directly. It could cause issues later."
"Oh? Is that so? Did I just ask an impolite question, Director Jin?"
"...Hmm."
Faced with Park's questioning look, Jin Do-wook gave a conflicted expression.
As much as Jin, the director of Bloom Art Museum, was curious, Ryu was right this time.
Jin glanced back at the statue.
Above the massive sculpture, clouds still swirled around the celestial maiden. How did they manage to wrap so perfectly and gracefully around only her, without touching the woodcutter?
It was as if nature itself was being manipulated—strange and almost frightening.
But that's exactly why I can't just ask.He thought, ready to tell Park to let it go—
"It's fine," Kang-seok said, smiling faintly, as if it wasn't worth keeping a secret.
Looking calmly at the statue, he explained:
"What you're seeing there is artificial fog generated by an ultrasonic mist maker. You know the ones used in traditional medicine therapy or for children's respiratory treatments? I adapted the idea a bit—it's like a stage fog machine that makes pond mist."
Jin Do-wook, who had once raised a child, looked startled.
"Wait… you mean one of those medical ultrasonic nebulizers?"
"Yes, exactly."
"Then you're saying this has a therapeutic function?"
Traditional medicine? Jin stared at the statue again, amazed that therapeutic elements might be involved.
He sniffed hard through his nose, almost convinced he could smell something herbal.
Seeing Jin's reaction, Park Sun-woo and Ryu Jeong-hyung also took deep breaths.
Kang-seok shook his head.
"No, not like that. If we were aiming for actual medical benefits, it would require a lot more regulation. It's just a fog machine inspired by ultrasonic mist makers. Not made for healing—just designed to be harmless even with long-term exposure."
Kang-seok looked again at the statue.
When he first imagined a landscape with swirling clouds, only one thing mattered to him:
Would it be safe for humans?
Why he cared so much was because the statue,
He couldn't allow anything harmful near guests who had come to relax and enjoy the hot springs.
He could've used any fog machine off the shelf, but he had to ensure it wouldn't cause respiratory issues in the long term.
Just like how artists today can't use toxic paints no matter how beautiful the colors are, safety was something he had to take seriously.
Clap clap clap.
Park Sun-woo applauded.
Laughing cheerfully, he clapped his hands and beamed.
"This is seriously amazing. I'm the one installing it, and even I didn't think of that. Our artist Kang really has both sense and insight… honestly, I'm not even sure I deserve to receive all this brilliance. Is there anything you like besides buildings, Artist Kang?"
His eyes sparkled.
Already, several advertising slogans danced through his mind:
Art therapy.
A sculpture that protects your health.
The more you gaze, the healthier you become.
He needed to pass this to a copywriter and let them run wild with it. As he imagined who could best polish his ideas, he walked toward Kang-seok.
"This is gold."
Park Sun-woo, the loafer.
He didn't care about boardroom fights or political influence. He just wanted to watch the spectacle and enjoy the spoils.
That was the persona he had built for himself.
He was satisfied. He didn't desire more.
But living like that—balancing the tightrope of indulgent ease—wasn't easy. To maintain the carefree image, no one could look down on him, but no one could see him as a threat either.
A delicate balance.
I have to do well, but not so well that it affects the power dynamics.
That's why he had turned his eyes to culture. The founding chairman of Sangkang Group had once said culture must be handled with the utmost care. Park Sun-woo saw its value.
The Sangkang Cultural Foundation.
On the surface, it seemed trivial for a king to possess.
But in reality, it was a hub of wealth that could enrich any monarch.
To claim it, he had to make this hotel spa project a success.
And now, with Kang-seok's piece, it finally seemed within reach.
Buildings.Payments.Future commissions.
None of it felt wasted anymore.
Placing his hand lightly on Kang-seok's shoulder with a bright smile, Park Sun-woo looked like a fox disguised in sunshine.
"Honestly, it's not me who should run this business—it's you, Artist Kang. Jeong-hyung hyung, instead of taking me to meet grandfather or father, maybe you should bring our Artist Kang."
"CEO…"
Be careful what you say, Ryu Jeong-hyung warned softly, but Park Sun-woo was too delighted to stop smiling.
"But seriously—where is this ultrasonic fogger or whatever? And how does it manage to completely avoid the woodcutter and just bloom like a flower around our lovely celestial lady?"
"CEO…"
Ryu tried to step in and interrupt Park's barrage of questions, but Park grinned and reassured him.
"I'm not digging for trade secrets, Director Ryu. This is about management. I don't want to hear that I ruined the piece due to poor maintenance."
Ryu suddenly looked enlightened.
Sculptures.
Especially marble ones, are easily affected by the environment.
In fact, when the Sangkang Cultural Foundation was aggressively collecting artworks, they imported Italian marble statues and placed them outdoors.
The result was disastrous.
Within a year, the sculptures cracked and broke apart, causing public controversy. Though it happened long ago, Ryu Jeong-hyung still remembered it vividly.
The investigation revealed:
Unlike Italy, which enjoys consistently mild weather, Korea's harsh seasons—with rain, snow, and sudden cold snaps—were too much for marble to withstand.
What's more, air pollution caused by environmental problems was wreaking havoc on artworks and heritage sites alike.
One columnist even quoted an expert who claimed that the damage suffered by cultural relics and sculptures over the past 50 years was worse than all the corrosion from the past 2,400 years combined.
That's how serious it is to exhibit artwork outdoors nowadays.
Unlike paintings that usually reside indoors, sculptures are often displayed outside—making the issue even more critical.
"I see."
What CEO Park Sun-woo was trying to ask wasn't just out of simple curiosity. It was a crucial matter for future maintenance as well.
A look of regret appeared on Ryu Jung-hyung's face. As a director of the Sankang Cultural Foundation, he had been absorbed in giving artistic advice to CEO Park Sun-woo. And yet, Park Sun-woo had looked into the most important issue of maintenance before he did.
"Ah. I'm sorry."
"It's alright. I know just how much you worry, Jung-hyung hyung. Now, Artist—would you be willing to share just a little of your secret with me? If it helps, I'll even sign a confidentiality agreement swearing I won't tell a soul other than the people here."
"I said it's okay."
But once again, Kang-seok wore a calm expression.
In truth, it wasn't even much of a secret. Kang-seok had kept a live stream running during the entire process. Anyone who watched would have seen everything; if they just thought back, they could figure it out.
Kang-seok quietly raised his hand.
"CEO, can you see this?"
He pointed to the bottom of the woodcutter sculpture.
Looking closely, there was a sort of pedestal under the woodcutter's feet. And the pedestal had a slight recess—like a compartment for storage. Inside that hollow space was an ultrasonic humidifier.
Only then did they notice the wires connected to the humidifier.
At the same time, a hose linked to the mist outlet of the device became visible.
To get a better look, Park Sun-woo bent down. Ryu Jung-hyung and Director Jin Do-wook followed, crouching beside him.
The three twisted and leaned around, and finally, they spotted the hose leading into the woodcutter sculpture itself.
"There's nothing special. That hose connects to the woodcutter's hand, and the hand is linked to the bottom of the celestial maiden's foot."
The mist emitted from the hose connected to the maiden's foot flowed through the thin channels carved inside her body during the work. The accumulated mist escaped through tiny holes carved into the figure. The compressed mist that moved inside the body emerged as vivid white smoke—circling around the robe like clouds.
That was the secret behind the cloud effect.
"...You see here, right?"
Kang-seok finished his explanation, pointing to various parts of the sculpture he'd worked on. The three men followed his hand with their eyes.
Tiny, finely carved holes became visible.
The mist slowly seeped out from hidden spaces, perfectly concealed so as not to interfere with the viewer's experience of the artwork.
Director Jin Do-wook stared, jaw dropped.
The explanation was simple—but the actual execution was anything but.
If Kang-seok was telling the truth, it meant he had designed and carved all those grooves and channels, from the woodcutter to the celestial maiden, with exacting precision.
"Whew..."
How on earth could someone carve such an internal pathway that wasn't even visible? He wasn't some kind of AI excavation machine—how was this even possible? Had he really carved through solid marble just to create that perfect cloud?
Jin Do-wook recalled watching the live stream.
He had wondered, why put so much delicate work into places no one would ever see?
"This is why…"
So that's why.
He had known what that tiny internal path would produce. He had calculated everything before carving it.
"Heh…"
Jin Do-wook rubbed his forehead at the sheer absurdity. His mind reeled. He had thought he'd seen a masterpiece that defied logic—and now the technique went beyond it too.
Even if someone explained it, who could actually replicate this? And finally, Jin Do-wook began to understand.
Why Kang-seok spoke so openly about his methods, why he streamed everything without hesitation…
Because no one else could do it.
Without meaning to, Director Jin Do-wook said it out loud.
"Artist Kang."
"Yes?"
"...Could it be that you expected no one would be able to copy you, no matter how much you showed or told them?"
"...Hmm."
Kang-seok stared back at him with his usual expressionless face.
That's right.
He knew.
Even if he gave everything away, no one could steal his craft. Kang-seok already knew that.
It was a confidence so bold it bordered on arrogance.
No, it wasn't just confidence. Kang-seok wouldn't act this way based on pride alone.
Jin Do-wook knew Kang-seok well. He was cautious to a fault. The kind of person who would test even the safest bridge before crossing it.
'Then how can he be so certain?'
…Maybe it was because so many people had already tried to imitate him—and failed.
How many must have tried and failed for him to hold such unwavering certainty? This was the same person who, up to the second semester of 11th grade, had ranked at the very bottom in practical art.
Just who was this seasoned, brilliant artist?
Jin Do-wook was lost in confusion.
Kang-seok, hearing his murmuring, only smiled faintly again. He waved off the idea.
"Don't take it that far. It's more like… no, never mind."
His evasiveness only made Ryu Jung-hyung and Park Sun-woo press him further.
"Huh?"
"What is it? Don't leave us hanging like that. Are you keeping secrets from me, Artist Kang?"
"No, it's not that."
Even if they tried desperately to reach a place he had already passed…
As Kang-seok organized the thoughts passing through his mind, he turned away.
In front of him stood
"Anyway, I'll be counting on you."
Please make sure
"I'll protect it no matter what."
If a national treasure like this sculpture were to be damaged, even the name of being the heir to the Sankang Group would be meaningless. No matter the cost, no matter the effort, he would protect the work that had captured his heart.
Park Sun-woo and Kang-seok silently made a promise in the heart of winter.
After handing the piece over to Park Sun-woo—
Kang-seok spent nearly a month going back and forth between his Seongbuk-dong home and a glass studio, resting. But he didn't go to the studio to make anything.
"You're drawing it wrong. The lines are completely off."
Kang-seok went to the studio mostly to keep tabs on how hard Jo Dong-beom was working using the reference materials Kang-seok had provided.
Jo Dong-beom practiced daily, studying the peony sketches drawn by Kang-seok. But you can't expect bold lines to suddenly become delicate overnight. He always struggled—and noticing that, Kang-seok began visiting once or twice a week, correcting the hardest parts like scolding a student.
He was grateful for how Jo Dong-beom had come to the hanok every day while he worked on
But despite Jo Dong-beom's diligence and grit, his progress was slow.
And today was one of those days.
Riding his bike, Kang-seok pedaled with a hint of frustration, watching Dong-beom's stagnant improvement.
'I do want to go back to Miami and finish that fresco I left behind… Maybe I'll leave after graduation.'
This time, once he left, he didn't want to return until it was complete. But graduation was in February. The principal and teachers were already begging him to attend, and his family seemed to be preparing outfits for the ceremony like it was a wedding.
Watching how excited his family was about his high school graduation made it hard to leave for overseas.
So while taking a proper rest, he was helping Dong-beom with sketching. But no matter what, his mind kept drifting.
What should I do…
As he pushed the pedal down again, Kang-seok's head tilted upward, his eyes drawn to the sky.
Maybe it was because the night sky was especially beautiful tonight.
Kang-seok, in the stillness of a near-month-long rest, came face to face with a stirring desire.
It was beautiful, but not radiant.
Tonight, the sky was unusually bright—but not a single visible constellation.
And yet, Kang-seok recalled a memory from long ago.
He imagined drawing the countless stars that had once filled his gaze in a previous life onto the dark sky. The sky itself was dark, but in his mind, it was brilliantly luminous.
And then, he had a thought.
He wanted to show this view he was seeing… to other people.
He wanted to sculpt it.