Love Coming from the Least Expected novel Chapter 487

I was confused. “Why isn’t such a talented painter like him famous?”

Spencer adjusted his glasses and explained in a melancholic tone, “He gave his painting to Crystal because she wanted to be the champion for a particular art exhibition. Only I knew about this incident.”

If Crystal was right in front of me, I would wish for nothing more than to show her a thumbs-up. I had to give it up to her—she might not be capable in other domains, but she was extremely skilled in charming men. It was a type of talent to hoodwink so many men and make them do bad things for her willingly.

“Will I suffer a terrible defeat, then?” I started to feel anxious.

“It all depends on fate,” gloated Spencer.

Remington frowned, showing that he did not think that I had a high chance of winning. My palm started to sweat while I gripped my brush. Then, I glanced at Harvey, who was twirling his brush casually and staring at me in disdain. Immediately, my anxiety disappeared.

Although I had stopped painting for years and did not produce any artwork for six years, my skills back then were top-notch. Before Christopher left, he even cupped my face and said that I was the best.

Since I was the best, there was no reason for me to fear a challenge. I walked to the canvas briskly and twirled my brush skillfully.

“What do you want the challenge to be about? Flowers or phoenixes?”

“Phoenixes! I hope that you can manage to draw more.” Harvey laughed in contempt.

A huge fiery phoenix was soaring in the sky, its blazing tail floating behind it. A flock of birds followed it—some were flapping their wings eagerly, some had their beaks open mid-chirp, and some were gazing wistfully at the majestic phoenix.

I could hear people speaking beside me, with a few exclaiming in shock. However, I ignored them. The way I held the brush was not a mistake. There existed a famous painter in Hawen a hundred years ago who held the brush in the exact same manner. I was not deliberately trying to copy him, but I had realized that this grip suited me a lot.

When I finished sketching the last two birds, I heard Remington yell, “Take note that there are only ten minutes left!”

As I had not finished coloring the two birds, I started to panic and accidentally knocked over the black paint beside me. When the paint spilt across the canvas, the entire venue fell silent. Everyone was shocked by what I had done—irregular black patches had appeared on the canvas.

“Oh no!” I yelled out in shock. If there were irregular patches of paint on the canvas, my artwork would be disqualified.