Chapter 498


    He was here for revenge. I bit the corner of my lips, not knowing what to do. If I backed off and did not


    compete, I would be seen as despising Jonah. Yet, I was at a loss what to paint. The six years of


    emptiness in my life had resulted in ack of knowledge.


    “I was not prepared to go onstage.” I rubbed my temples to ease my headache.


    “Are you afraid?” Jonahughed contemptuously. “Remington is a great artist but his friend might not


    be. Shall we make a bet?”


    “I never bet with anyone!” Immediately, I refused. I always lose when I bet on this kind of thing, so I do


    not bet.


    “So, do you admit that you are here by means of the back door?” Jonah shouted.


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    The environment was noisy but his voice was heard above the din by everyone around us. I frowned. It


    seemed that he had arranged for the reporter who confronted us just now. He was local and it was


    easy enough for him to create trouble for me. If I backed off, not only would Remington’s reputation be


    tarnished, but I would also be looked down upon.


    “What are you betting on?” I asked him coldly.


    “It’s simple. If you lose, have your painting taken down from the wall and thrown onto the floor and let


    me stomp on it a few times. That is all I want. This is not too much to demand, is it?” Jonah asked.


    I was shocked and it must have shown on my face. This was way beyond too much. It was akin to the


    assassination of my character and stomping on my dignity. I sneered. “What if you lost?”


    “I will leave this circle for good and never return to this field of arts. How about that?” Jonah dered.


    As I gazed at this handsome boy, I could see his determination and unwillingness to admit defeat. In a


    low voice, I replied, “I agree to your challenge.”


    Frankly, I did not know what unique skill I could disy for the crowd. If it were topics like “Phoenix”


    and so on, I did have some idea but I really had nothing to show for any other topics.


    Standing before the huge canvas, holding a brush, I did not know where to start. This type of live


    exhibition had no time limit. I only had to show what I thought I was best at. I panicked as I watched


    Jonah beginning to paint on his canvas, and I began to walk to and fro in front of mine.


    After a while, I heard the sudden exmation of the crowd. I looked up and realized that Jonah was


    painting “Jeremiah’s Tears.” This painting was by far the most difficult portrait to imitate, not because of


    howplicated the painting was. On the contrary, this painting was very simple. There was only one


    crying old man in the whole painting.


    As a world-famous painting, it was now disyed in the National Museum in E Kingdom. Basically,


    everyone who learned to paint had copied this world-famous painting. Sometimes, the simplest


    paintings are the most difficult to imitate. I imitated it back then. After one attempt, I was shocked


    because mine was too ugly.


    Jonah had finished painting the old man at one go. He quickly sketched the outline very confidently.


    asionally, he cast a sidelong nce at me. Noting that I had not started painting yet, he mocked,


    “Are you going to contemte for three days and three nights and only start working on it when the art


    exhibition is over?”


    I shrugged in silence. It was indeed pleasing to watch a master painter paint. When thest tear slipped


    down the old man’s cheek, Jonah had finished painting Jeremiah weeping. The old man looked in


    and simple. His face showed the tracks of hardship through his life and every line on his face was full of


    sadness as years went by.


    It was indeed, a perfect imitation. I looked at the white canvas in front of me, feeling a little sad as I


    started to paint. Jonah had already started on his second painting. From the initial sketches, it looked


    like the Mona Lisa.


    It seemed that what Jonah was disying to the crowd was his superb copying technique, and he


    chose the most difficult paintings. I took a deep breath and looked back at the crowd, just to see


    Christopher returning after having gone out.


    He was standing with Remington. When he saw me looking at him, he put his thumb next to his lips


    and made a cheering gesture. I smiled and started painting slowly on the canvas, unlike Jonah. I had


    chosen the simplest color—ck.