Chapter 57

Kate's words implicated both Emma and Liam. Kate and Elsie aimed to humiliate them both. The unusually high table necessitated standing to paint, effectively preventing Liam, wheelchair-bound, from participating. Elsie, Brad, and their allies sought to publicly degrade Liam for his disability and Emma for her perceived lack of refinement.

Several of Brad's usual supporters began to taunt Emma: "Miss Johnson, aren't you making things difficult?" they sneered. "One's lived a life of luxury, the other's a country girl. With such a stark contrast, she won't dare paint." Others chimed in, disparaging Emma's background and comparing her unfavorably to the late Aria, subtly referencing Mr. Hall's return. Their taunts grew increasingly offensive, even directed at Liam.

Elsie, outwardly neutral, concealed a smug smile. "Let's skip Emma," she declared, her satisfaction evident. "Who's next?"

Before anyone could answer, a cold voice cut through the air. "You think you can just skip me?"

Emma, arms crossed, glared at Elsie. "Didn't you set this up specifically to force me to paint?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips as she stepped forward in her high heels.

Liam gently grasped her hand. "If you don't want to, you don't have to. No one can force you." He'd long endured such harassment, silently plotting his revenge, but Emma's defiance surprised him.

Emma leaned towards him. "No one insults you in front of me, Liam. I'll show them your woman will never let you lose face."

Liam was moved by her determination. With newfound resolve, Emma picked up a brush. Her confident handling of the high-grade brush, the spontaneous elegance of her strokes, quickly produced a masterpiece.

The onlookers, expecting a fiasco, were astonished. "How is she a countrywoman who doesn't know painting? She's a professional!" they murmured. Even the usually impassive Simon frowned, finally admitting, "This painting… is gorgeous."

Praise erupted. "Decades of practice are needed for such magnificence!" "It's even better than Kate's!"

Then, a renowned painter, Bernard Clinton, approached, his voice trembling with excitement. "Harmony in motion, a blend of intensity and subtlety! Miss Wilson, your accomplishment at such a young age is truly impressive!"

Emma's achievement, praised by such a celebrated artist, stunned the gathering. Even those unfamiliar with painting sensed her talent's depth. Simon's gaze shifted subtly, intrigued. Emma's painting, a replica of Renoir's "Luncheon of the Boating Party," resonated with Simon's personal values – quiet contributions and harmonious family life – revealing her insightful mind.

Elsie, noticing Simon's unusual reaction – a level of movedness unseen in over a decade – felt a surge of anger and a deep sense of crisis. She immediately signaled Kate.

Kate, consumed by jealousy, sneered. "Emma, I was your teacher. When did you improve so much? Cheating?"

Some guests, recalling Kate's former role, believed Kate was still superior. But Emma's swift retort left Kate speechless.

"Miss Johnson, you were a temporary teacher at Vark College," Emma stated. "Your skills are inferior to your students, and your judgment is poor. You taught me for half a semester without realizing my true abilities. No wonder you were fired after two months – the shortest tenure in Vark College history."

Kate, enraged, turned to Bernard, her threat thinly veiled. "Mr. Clinton, tell me. Is my painting better, or hers?"

The apparent contest between the two women masked a rivalry between heirs to the Hall family fortune – a clear disparity in power. Bernard, aware of the underlying conflict, nevertheless acknowledged the paintings' merits. Kate's, while beautiful, felt strangely pieced together, lacking strength and character; it lacked authenticity.

Just as Bernard was about to comment, a deep voice interrupted. "It's the 21st century. Still using that old trick?"

Liam, in his wheelchair, commanded attention. His mere presence caused Kate and Brad to recoil. He stared coldly at Kate. "And you know very well whether you painted that yourself."