I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy

Chapter 87

I don’t usually come up with grandiose names for my works.

Simple, straightforward titles that anyone could immediately understand—that’s the kind of naming style I stuck to.

But that was in my past life.

Now, I’d taken a liking to crafting more intricate titles, like Peach Blossom Paradise or Hollow Snow.

This would be my third official solo work, excluding collaborations.

Though the time I had to create it was short, I poured in as much effort as I could.

These were the types who preferred the serenity of this place over the festival’s noisy chaos outside.

Most of them had likely spent a good deal of time staring at my painting.

Originally, this piece was supposed to be displayed in the 3rd-year building.

That was tradition, and it had been planned for this festival as well.

However, thanks to the student council president’s suggestion, the painting had been moved to my classroom.

I didn’t have any particular reason to object. It would’ve been strange to have my work displayed in another class’s room, after all.

“So this is what you were working on, cooped up in your studio?”

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