Chapter 288 Jealousy

Tilda was obviously that kind of person.

Myst’s eyes lingered on her, and for the first time, a ripple showed in his calm gaze. He had looked detached before, almost bored. Now, there was a rare trace of seriousness.

The other judges noticed it right away. They all turned to look at Tilda.

"This woman from Cetherland really is beautiful."

"Could it be that Myst is interested in her?"

"No way, right?"

One of the female judges rolled her eyes. Jealousy flashed across her face, but she quickly hid it.

On the big screen, Tilda’s painting appeared, beside the original canvas she had placed on the easel. The moment it showed up, the room erupted. Everyone was stunned by the sheer life force radiating from her work.

It was like a witch’s spell pulling the audience into a quiet, peaceful bamboo forest. Even people who knew nothing about art could feel it. Her piece was without a doubt the brightest star among the 13 contestants.

The others were strong too–after all, they had each won first place back in their home countries to stand here at the International College Art Competition. Every painting had its own style and strength. But compared to Tilda, they all looked pale and weak. It was like the gap between heaven and hell: just one step apart, yet an endless divide.

The life in her painting drew in souls and told its own story. That was something none of the other 12 contestants could ever reach.

The judges stayed silent. Facing a piece like this, any question they asked would sound powerless.

To put it bluntly, from the moment Tilda’s painting appeared, the winner was already decided. Even these world-famous figures in the art world all had the same thought: Her talent was terrifying. As long as she kept walking down this road, she was destined to become immortal in art history. She would absolutely rise onto the global stage and stand alongside them.

Simon, watching from the audience, smiled with relief. He knew victory was already in her hands. That world champion’s trophy belonged to Tilda. She was about to bring glory to her country.

“Tilda, may I ask–did you complete this painting on your own?”

The sharp, nasal voice carried a heavy Motrar accent. It was clearly not fluent Cetherese.

Most of the audience respected Tilda’s strength. But behind her computer screen, Kyla was grinding her teeth in jealousy. Even knowing Tilda would be exposed soon, Kyla still couldn’t stand watching her shine on a worldwide broadcast. Rage was boiling in her chest.

Why did Tilda have such talent? She had been missing for 19 years, drifting like some nobody. Yet she had surpassed Kyla, the so-called “genius” who had elite training, a perfectly developed mind, and natural talent for painting.

Kyla’s ears perked when she heard one of the judges speak to Tilda in that bitter tone.

Tilda’s face stayed calm. “Yes, I completed it on my own–with some guidance from my professor.”

At the same time, her mind had already matched the voice to a name: Erica Gardner, 43, from Motrar, currently going through her fifth divorce. Erica hated people from Cetherland. She always believed Motrar natives were born superior. Myst was her only exception. His unmatched talent had forced even the most biased critics to bow down. But it wasn’t just his talent. Erica was obsessed with looks. She was a die-hard fan of Myst partly because he was handsome. Every one of her husbands had been young men in their 20s. None of them lasted long under her controlling nature, so every marriage ended in divorce.

Tilda didn’t think Erica was jealous because Myst had noticed her. She only thought Erica was picking on her for being from Cetherland.

“First, let me say this,” Erica began. “The painting is very well done. It has great life and energy. But doesn’t this style feel… familiar?”

Her words were loaded with meaning, but she didn’t go any deeper. The truth was, the painting was outstanding. She just didn’t want to admit it, because Tilda had caught Myst’s eye.

It was like a crazed fan watching her idol pay attention to another woman. Jealousy crashed over Erica like a tidal wave. This young little bitch shouldn’t think she could get close to Myst just because of a pretty face!

Out of the Shadows: Tilda’s Brilliant Second Life