“All the proof says that Chung is a copycat!
She cannot deny that the sketches are in my
hands!”
And that was it. I had just tricked her into
exposing herself as the one that stole the
sketches.
Ethan was defeated. He knew he couldn’t win.
<
But seeing how stupid Tiffany was made him
snap, and he fainted, falling to the ground,
muttering, “It’s all over….
“How can someone not know about layered
files? I really thought she was talented. This is
all over now!”
The staff tried to be professional, even
though they hated them as much as the
crowd did. They put him on a stretcher and
took him away.
But the audience didn’t care.
They were furious at Tiffany and Ethan for
trying to fool them. They had almost
destroyed a blind artist’s career. The crowd
went wild.
L
They swarmed the stretcher, kicking and
punching the fainted Ethan.
And Tiffany? She was stunned, realizing she’d
just screwed up everything. She started trying
to escape, but the crowd was ready for her.
The crowd started throwing eggs, vegetables,
chicken poop, and anything else they could
get their hands on.
Tiffany was running around, screaming, trying
to hide from everything.
It was a chaotic mess, but everyone had their
revenge. The two of them were left on the
floor looking like bruised, battered pigs.
And me? The crowd made a barrier around
me, keeping me safe from the chaos.
<
After they were done with Ethan and Tiffany, I
pulled out the tablet that I had prepared
beforehand, and showed the original layered
files of my sketches to the cameras.
The audience was stunned. It was way more
intricate than they thought.
Each layer was perfect. When all of them
came together, the results were something
amazing, that was not on the original sketch,
something that was on my unfinished
painting.
Nine hundred and ninety–nine big, bright, and
elegant peonies, all facing east.
If you looked at it from afar, you could see
that all the peonies had their own shadow,
which made them look like they were different
く
I pointed the tablet towards the sky, and a
line of red words appeared.
‘Celebrating our Motherland’s Birthday,
Happy National Day!”
Everyone was shocked. They admired the
beautiful art, and they also admired my
patriotic heart.
Without a doubt, I was given the first–place
award.
Standing on the stage, my empty sockets
welled up with tears.
This time, I had finally cleared my name.
