The hall buzzed with anticipation as Feng Yan prepared herself for the live demonstration. The challenge was daunting for most, but for her, it was an opportunity to finally reveal her true identity. She knew that no artist could replicate another's work to the point of perfection, especially when it came to the intricate details that marked her unique style as the elusive Butterfly.
With practiced ease, Feng Yan selected her brushes and ink, her movements confident and fluid. She had chosen to recreate one of her older works, a piece that was both technically demanding and rich in hidden details—perfect for proving her identity to the skeptical judges. The painting she had in mind was one that had sold for millions at auction, a landscape where every stroke carried depth, emotion, and the distinctive Butterfly signature.
As she began, the room fell silent, all eyes fixed on her. The live telecast of the event meant that not only those in the room but also viewers outside were watching her every move. The pressure would have been overwhelming for anyone else, but Feng Yan was calm. Her hands moved with precision, the brush gliding across the canvas in smooth, deliberate strokes.
Feng Yue stood at the side, her eyes filled with jealousy and disbelief. Every stroke of Feng Yan's brush was like a dagger to her heart. How could she have been so blind? The thought that Feng Yan, the sister she had always belittled and overlooked, was actually the legendary Butterfly was unbearable. Her mind raced with what could have been—if she had known the truth, she could have stolen Feng Yan's identity, used it to secure her own place in the prestigious university she so desperately wanted. But now, that dream was shattered, and all that was left was a deep, burning hatred.
As Feng Yan continued to paint, the judges watched intently. The technique she used was ancient, a lost art that had been perfected by few. The strokes were both delicate and powerful, the ink blending seamlessly to create a landscape that seemed to come alive on the canvas. Even the most skeptical of the judges found themselves captivated by the scene unfolding before them.
Within an hour, Feng Yan had completed the painting. She stepped back, allowing the judges to inspect her work. The room was silent as they compared her live painting with the original piece that had been auctioned years ago. The resemblance was uncanny—no, it was more than that. It was identical, down to the smallest detail. The hidden Butterfly signature was there, carefully embedded within the painting, just as it had been in the original. The brush techniques, the ink blends, the patterns—they were all exactly the same.
An appraiser was brought in to confirm what the judges were already beginning to suspect. He scrutinized both paintings, analyzing every aspect with a keen eye. After several tense minutes, he turned to the judges and nodded.
"It's genuine," he announced, his voice filled with awe. "She is Butterfly."
The room erupted in gasps of disbelief and admiration. The revelation was astonishing—no one had expected the legendary artist to be a young woman of just seventeen. The audience, judges, and even those watching the live telecast were flabbergasted. They had imagined Butterfly as an elderly, perhaps even reclusive, artist with decades of experience, not a teenage girl who had hidden her talent behind an unassuming facade.
Feng Yue couldn't accept what she was seeing. Her mind spun with a mix of fury and despair. Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes as she struggled to contain her emotions. How had she missed it? How had she failed to recognize the truth? If only she had known, she could have taken everything from Feng Yan—her identity, her fame, her future. But now, it was too late. The opportunity had slipped through her fingers, and all she could do was watch as Feng Yan basked in the glory that should have been hers.
As the judges turned to Feng Yan, their expressions a mix of respect and admiration, the head judge stepped forward. "Feng Yan, or should I say, Butterfly," he began, his voice reverent, "it is an honor to witness your talent. The artist association would like to formally invite you to become a member. Your contributions to the art world have been extraordinary, and we would be privileged to have you among us."
The room fell silent once more as everyone awaited Feng Yan's response. She stood there, her eyes calm and her expression unreadable. Inside, she felt a quiet satisfaction. The world now knew who she was. There was no more hiding, no more need to protect her secret. She had earned this recognition through years of hard work, and now it was time to step into the light.
With a gracious nod, Feng Yan accepted the invitation. "Thank you," she replied, her voice steady. "I would be honored to join the association."
The judges applauded, and soon the entire room followed. The sound of clapping filled the air, a tribute to the young woman who had stunned them all with her brilliance.
Feng Yue, however, remained rooted to the spot, her tears flowing freely now. She could only watch as Feng Yan was surrounded by admirers, congratulated by the judges, and praised by the art world that had once seemed so unattainable. The reality of her failure, her missed opportunity, crushed her spirit. Everything she had ever wanted was now out of reach, and the bitterness of that truth consumed her.
As the event came to a close, Feng Yan glanced at Feng Yue, who stood alone, her face streaked with tears. For a moment, their eyes met, and Feng Yan saw the hatred and envy burning in her sister's gaze. But she felt no pity, no sympathy. Feng Yue had made her choices, and now she had to live with the consequences.