Other people were thrilled when they saw the Tower of Light.
But the people that know Weed found it hard to believe.
“How is it that Oppa has such a delicate sense of beauty...”
Yurin was suspicious so she asked Hwaryeong.
“He’s very good with his hands right?”
“Yes. I like to eat the apples he peels.”
“I wonder how he made that.”
Pale fell into anguish.
‘Maybe we were wrong about Weed all this time?’
They wanted to see him. Artists are often misunderstood for their sense of aesthetics.
‘Weed! I really love the sculpture you made. You’re right. Without enthusiasm and affection for the sculpture there is no way you can make such a beautiful piece.’
Irene apologized to him tearfully.
‘I though Weed kept talking about how he dislikes his profession... I think in the future the complaints are only going to increase.’
Zephyr grinned.
‘Weed is someone that’s really hard to be proud of. This might be something of an accomplishment for making something like this, right?’
Hwaryeong was mistaken about Weed’s mindset.
‘The creation of a new innovative piece of art requires painstaking effort and passion. Along with a wealth of emotions and affection. Weed really is someone that can warm your heart.’
***
When Weed was making the tower he had no idea what to do and was going to make a normal tower.
Moonlight sculpting!
It boasted a high level of sculpting difficulty.
The sculpture itself emits light so it was hard to think of an idea.
“Damn it. There is no end to sculpting’s curses.”
Weed was annoyed with his harness.
He was able to use moonlight sculpting to make small sculptures, to some extent, by outline the shape. But for such a large object, he had to think of one or two things else.
“This damnable sculpting!”
Weed dealt his frustration of hanging on the peak by slashing the rock.
He was dangling high above the ground with the sculpture.
As he was smashing the snow with moonlight sculpting, tears trickled down his face.
So far to note, in the sunlight the effects of light sculpting was greatly diminished. Then night came.
Morata village had a full moon.
The moon shone on the sculptures crookedly. The mirror like surfaces of the rocks reflected the moonlight.
“The light is reflecting off the sculptures and onto the snow!”
Weed was irritated as he clung onto the mountain. He spent hours trying to position the moonlight correctly. Gradually he just slashed to cut the sculpture at more angles.