Chapter Title: Grand Prize Awakening
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Thump.
I opened my eyes.
Once again, a white ceiling and fluorescent lights came into view.
As my hazy vision cleared, a chaotic cacophony of sounds filled the air.
- The patient's vitals... oxygen saturation...
- Analgesics are going in, so just hang in there a bit.
- Please handle the billing first. Yes, you still need to settle the bill first.
On top of that, there were groans of pain and the clattering of gurneys rolling by.
It was all so hectic that I quickly snapped my eyes wide open.
"Hyung. You with us?"
Dungsik was there by my side again, looking at me with worry.
He must have brought me here once more.
At this point, I felt less grateful and more guilty.
"Where are we?"
"The ER. Thanks to you, hyung, I got to ride in an ambulance. What a day."
Oh ho. No wonder it was so chaotic.
Curtain dividers everywhere, nurses scurrying around like mad at my feet.
An emergency room really was like a bustling flea market.
A thin, long tube was stuck into the back of my hand.
The transparent bag of liquid dangling above had to be the IV drip I'd only heard about.
And at this moment, the most important thing.
"...The prize money?"
"Phew, I knew you'd ask. Already used your winnings to cover the bill. You've got 4,946,760 won left. Happy now?"
"Phew... I'm alive."
I'd been singing "First place, first place" all the way, but actually winning grand prize hit different.
If my lacquering skills held up outside of pottery,
it meant my other skills were still viable too.
In short, it felt solid—like all my weapons were sharpened to a razor's edge.
But more solid than anything was my now-plump wallet.
"Hilarious. That happy about it?"
Yeah. Money makes the body heal faster, Dungsik.
A nurse came by to check my status and said I could be discharged once the IV finished.
I turned to Dungsik.
"Sorry for making you claim the award for me."
"You were out cold. I left you here, went back to grab it on your behalf, then came right back. Oh, right. Wanna see the plaque?"
"Yeah. Let's take a look."
I grunted and sat up.
Thanks to the IV and the money, I felt alive again.
Dungsik pulled a transparent plaque from his bag.
🏆 PRESIDENT'S CUP 🏆 8th President's Cup Lacquer Skills Competition
Grand Prize: Lee Hee-so
It wasn't my real name, but seeing it engraved still tugged at my heartstrings.
Especially lined up with "President"—His Majesty himself. What an honor for the family. Shouldn't I bow in worship when receiving this?
I made up my mind.
I have to get married for sure.
Only then can I build a household to pass this down through generations.
"Ugh, what a shame. If I hadn't collapsed, I'd have seen the President too."
"Huh? President?"
"President's Cup, right? Doesn't that mean the President hands it out?"
Dungsik blinked like I'd said something ridiculous.
"...Hyung, you're joking... right?"
"Who jokes about His Majesty?"
"Dude. Everyone does these days. And hyung, you're denser than I thought. With how many President's Cup events are there? No way he shows up for every one."
"? So it's just named after the President?"
"Yeah. Means the event carries that much prestige. Man, you're clueless. Without me, you'd get scammed left and right~."
More shocking than being called clueless twice
was how lightly His Majesty's name was tossed around like goose down.
Wow. Things were different in my day.
Back then, if His Majesty's name was on it, he'd show up.
I'd been hoping to catch a glimpse this time.
...A subtle sense of betrayal washed over me.
And a bit embarrassing too.
Dungsik was right—I needed to stay sharp.
"Hyung, check this out too?"
Dungsik pulled something else from his bag.
It was a plaque identical to mine.
What? Did the organizers mess up and make two?
🏆 PRESIDENT'S CUP 🏆 8th President's Cup Lacquer Skills Competition
Honorable Mention: Kim Du-sik
"! You got an award too?"
"Yeah. I'm shocked myself. Copied what you did and they gave me one? Do I have talent? Hehe."
Talent? More than that.
Lacquering is incredibly delicate work.
Winning just by peeking? That's serious talent.
I grabbed Dungsik's arm and examined it.
He had spots of rash from lacquer splatter too.
"Does it itch?"
"A little? Not too bad."
This guy's a natural.
"Did you enjoy lacquering?"
"Honestly... yeah. Felt like coloring. Fun. Makes me wanna learn it in Seoul like you. If it pays the bills, that is."
You won't starve. Well, not at first anyway.
But still.
Despite being all about the money, I wanted Dungsik to chase what he enjoyed.
What to do. Shove him into a traditional crafts college?
That was when.
"Ahem. Feeling better?"
Someone appeared at the foot of my bed.
It was the judge who'd helped me earlier.
"Huh? Judge sir? What brings you here...?"
"Yi Song-ui, Intangible Cultural Heritage Lacquer Master. Got worried and came to check. Glad you're okay."
No wonder he seemed extraordinary. Another heritage master.
He offered a handshake.
His hand was wrecked from decades of lacquer—nails all split.
Even his face resembled Elder Gam. Reincarnated or what?
"Congrats on grand prize. Professors say talent like yours is rare even in grad school. Among my disciples... maybe between apprentice successor and successor educator."
He praised me lavishly, then turned serious.
"But quit anyway. You're not cut out for lacquering."
"Yes. I plan to."
"Good, quit... Huh?"
"Contest's over, I've got bad rash, earned plenty for the trip back to Seoul. No regrets."
Yi Song-ui just stared with wide eyes.
Why the look? You told me to quit.
"Not... disappointed?"
"Not at all. Started it with my hands, finished with my hands. 5 mil's plenty. Body comes before art."
I echoed what he'd said at lunch.
Not sarcasm—just agreement.
Yi Song-ui burst into that weird laugh again.
"Kekekekek! You're a riot."
Not the sound you'd expect in an ER.
"You live in Seoul?"
Could I call it living?
Drifting through Seoul, sure.
"Yeah. Why?"
"Then grab a drink with me there. My workshop's in Seoul."
"Aren't you from Buyeo?"
"Think I'm some country bumpkin? Born and bred Seoulite! Dad just fled from the North."
Yi Song-ui thumped his chest, pride wounded.
Offering drinks? He must like me personally.
No clue why, but tastes vary.
Getting close wouldn't hurt anyway.
Pottery and lacquer are intertwined.
Why else learn lacquer from Elder Gam?
Yi Song-ui could be great connections.
Was about to say sure, when I spotted Dungsik.
Hold up. Workshop in Seoul?
Good idea.
Pottery and lacquer synergize perfectly.
Especially lacquer finishing pottery—value skyrockets.
But I couldn't keep lacquering due to allergies.
Why not train a reliable lacquerer instead?
"Sir. Do your disciples live at the workshop too?"
"Busy ones do."
"Do they pay rent?"
"Who charges disciples? Just give 'em mouse-fur wages."
Even better.
Mouse-fur or not, they pay you.
"Let's drink in Seoul. Multiple times even."
"Music to my ears."
Yi Song-ui's face lit up.
"But one condition."
"Condition?"
I grabbed Dungsik's arm.
"Take this guy as a disciple. Please."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
According to Park Bong-gon's confession, his name was Lee Hee-so.
A 20-year-old orphan whose only pottery experience was grunt work under Park Bong-gon.
Kim Sil-seop sat in the quiet living room, staring at the moon jar on the shelf by the window.
'The more I look, the more its true value shines. If a name potter had made it with proper white clay, it'd be priceless.'
Who could he be?
This Lee Hee-so, just who?
To produce something like that without training.
His disciple Seon Eun-kyeong had said earlier.
- This Lee Hee-so guy's phone's off. No contact. Left a message, so we'll wait till he sees it.
"Hmm..."
Lee Hee-so.
He'd tossed a stone into the still-lake calm of Sil-seop's mind.
Then.
Bzzz— bzzz—.
The phone on the table vibrated.
Sil-seop checked the screen and smiled faintly.
'No wonder it's been quiet.'
Sil-seop answered.
"Yeah. Sure."
- Hyungnim! Back in Korea? Man, I'm hurt. First time in a year, you should've hit me up right away!
"Drinking again, huh."
- Barely. Just one makgeolli. Exactly one.
Lots, then.
Still, Sil-seop didn't mind.
He was the only one who fawned over a junior twenty years younger.
An Intangible Cultural Heritage with zero gravitas.
"Lacquer contest, right? Probably in Buyeo now."
- Yep. Ended today, drinking with the judges now.
"Drinking, so play nice. Why call me?"
- Well... something regrettable happened. Calling to vent to you, hyungnim.
"What is it?"
Sil-seop knew the usual spiel.
Lacquerers dying out, heartbreaking.
Culture Ministry's begrudging grants sting the pride... etc.
Ready to listen quietly,
but today's tale was different.
A genius showed up at the contest—good enough to take as disciple.
But allergies force him to quit.
In this fading traditional arts era, too heartbreaking to bear.
"What a shame. Actually, something similar happened to me."
- What? Pottery world's better off than lacquer, no?
"Lost a talent too."
Sil-seop explained about Hee-so carefully.
The boozed-up voice chimed in with a groan.
- Moon jar with construction clay? Kekekeke, madman. But you got his number. Name too.
"Yeah, but no response."
- Big corp chairmen beg for your call to place one piece, and this guy's ghosting? Bold! What's his name? I'll help hunt when I hit Seoul.
"Uh... Lee Hee-so."
Silence fell.
'...What's this?'
- Pardon?
"Lee Hee-so. Rare, precious—like the name says."
- Huh.
Astounded reaction.
- Heh... no way. Age...?
"Twenty."
More silence.
Then, sober tone.
- Number 010-XXXX-XXXX?
Sil-seop's eyes widened.
"How'd you...?"
- Hyungnim. Get this...
Ha, ha! Long hollow laugh.
- That young man? You just found him.