Mei didn’t know where to go after leaving the crowd.
Almost without realising it, her feet carried her into the exhibition hall where priceless paintings and sketches from renowned artists were displayed beneath warm golden lights.
The atmosphere was quiet, broken only by soft conversations and the occasional footsteps echoing against the polished marble floor.
The moment she stepped inside, she froze.
Her eyes wandered from one masterpiece to another, each canvas telling a different story, each stroke carrying a different soul.
It reminded her of the countryside where she had spent years beside her master.
Back then, painting had become her refuge.
Hidden behind the old wooden house was a room that belonged to her alone.
Every wall was covered with paintings she had created over the years.
Some captured endless fields beneath cloudy skies, others showed lonely rivers flowing beneath pale moons, abandoned cottages swallowed by creeping vines, wilted flowers resting inside cracked vases, and silent figures standing beneath heavy rain.
None of her paintings were cheerful.
They all carried loneliness, even when she tried to paint hope, sadness somehow found its way onto the canvas.
Her master had once told her that every painting reflected the artist’s heart.
No matter how much a person tried to hide, their brush would always reveal what words never could.
In her case, it was true.
Just then, a particular painting caught her attention.
Her steps unconsciously slowed as she walked towards it.
It portrayed a magnificent silver horse walking alone along a narrow mountain path.
Mist drifted around its slender legs while rays of sunlight broke through distant clouds, making its silver coat shimmer with an almost ethereal glow.
The horse looked graceful and proud, its long mane flowing with the wind as though it belonged to another world.
There was no rider beside it, yet it continued forward with unwavering determination, like a lonely guardian searching for a destination only it understood.
Something about it felt strangely familiar, far too familiar, Her pupils slowly widened.
It was her master’s painting.
A thousand thoughts flooded her mind at once.
What was her master’s work doing at this appraisal?, he had had always hated fame.
He had refused countless invitations to exhibitions and rejected wealthy collectors who offered unimaginable sums for his work.
He once said that paintings were meant to be understood, not worshipped.
So how had one of his works ended up here?
Had something happened to him?
Had someone betrayed him?Her heart began beating faster.
She remembered the day her master had looked at her with unusual seriousness and told her to keep everything about him a secret.
He disliked attention and wanted the world to forget he even existed, yet his painting was now hanging inside one of the most prestigious exhibitions in the city.
Something wasn’t right,she stepped closer.
At First glance, the painting looked flawless.
Anyone else would have believed it was genuine.
Mei gently lifted one corner of the frame before examining it more carefully.
Her brows slowly knitted together.
It lacked authenticity.
Her master had always painted on specially prepared canvases that were heavier than ordinary ones because of the layers of materials he personally mixed.
His brushstrokes were bold, thick and confident, each stroke overlapping the next in perfect harmony, flowing together like waves following the same current. You are reading on NovelPing, the official source.
Even the smallest details carried incredible depth because he built each layer patiently instead of rushing the colours.
This painting was different, the strokes looked slightly lighter.
Some overlapped awkwardly instead of naturally blending together.
Certain areas seemed hesitant, as though the painter had been imitating someone else’s style instead of creating it.
It was almost impossible for ordinary people to notice.
Only someone who had watched Master Yishen paint for years could recognise such tiny differences.
The more Mei looked, the more flaws she discovered.
Just then, the grand doors of the exhibition hall were pushed open.
One after another, wealthy guests and socialites entered, dressed in luxurious gowns and expensive suits.
Flashing cameras followed closely behind as journalists hurried inside.
Among them, one woman immediately captured everyone’s attention.
“What are you doing here, Mei?” Camille asked as she walked towards her.
Before Mei could answer, Camille’s eyes fell upon the painting in Mei’s hands.
“Why are you trying to steal that painting? Do you know how much it’s worth?” Camille exclaimed, her voice trembling as though she had just witnessed something unforgivable.
Mei frowned, confusion flashed across her face, she couldn’t understand what Camille was trying to achieve.
“What are you talking about?” Mei asked coldly.
“Don’t lie, Sister. I saw everything. You wanted to steal it. Why?” Camille asked pitifully, Mei looked at her with disgust, this was her plan.
She wanted everyone to believe Mei was a thief.
Their voices quickly attracted the attention of everyone nearby.
Guests stopped admiring the paintings.
Journalists immediately raised their cameras while several people began recording with their phones, too much had already happened tonight.
This was exactly the kind of scandal the media loved.
“I wasn’t trying to steal it,” Mei replied calmly before placing the painting back where it belonged.
She immediately turned to leave, she hated being the centre of attention.
Unfortunately, all eyes were fixed on her.
Camille noticed Mei trying to leave, she couldn’t let this opportunity disappear.
Both she and Odessa had been waiting for the perfect chance to destroy Mei’s reputation.
She quickly searched for another way to keep everyone watching.
“Dad and Mum have always treated both of us well. What would you possibly gain from stealing this?” Camille cried.
“If we hadn’t arrived in time, you would have taken it away. Why? If you wanted one, you could have simply asked them to buy it for you.”
Tears streamed down Camille’s face, her voice cracking with every sentence, the people watching immediately felt sorry for her, They looked at Mei with disappointment.
She appeared elegant and graceful, yet how could someone like her attempt to steal such an expensive painting?
Soft whispers spread through the crowd.
“Mum and Dad work so hard to provide for us,” Camille sobbed.
“But you’re out here stealing from other people. It’s not fair.”
Mei slowly glanced around, just as she expected, everyone believed Camille, She had to admit her stepsister was an excellent actress.
“I wasn’t trying to steal the painting,” Mei said calmly.
“Besides, I’m not interested in it”
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
She had never been someone who allowed herself to be bullied.
“What do you mean you’re not interested in it?” Camille asked, wiping away her tears.
“Can you even paint something half as good as this?”
The confidence on Mei’s face made Camille hesitate, she had expected panic.
Instead Mei looked in bothered.
“You really think I can’t?” Mei asked coldly.
Camille instinctively took half a step backwards.
For a brief second, she found herself unable to answer.
Still, she refused to let the opportunity slip away.
“We both know you admire Master Yishen’s paintings,” Camille continued.
“This is his famous Silver Horse of Grace. Of course you’d want to steal it.”
Mei’s eyes darkened, very few people knew she admired Master Yishen.
There was only one explanation, Camille had entered her room.
Hatred quietly surged inside Mei.
There were many precious belongings hidden there.
More importantly, several paintings her master had personally given her were also inside.
She sincerely hoped Camille hadn’t touched any of them.
“Just admit you were wrong and apologise,” Camille urged, eager to ruin Mei completely.
“I did nothing wrong,” Mei replied.
“Why should I apologise? Besides, you’re the only person insisting I wanted to steal it.”
Before Camille could respond, Odessa stepped forward.
She had been observing everything from the beginning.
The moment she realised Camille was beginning to lose control of the conversation, she immediately intervened.
“Everyone knows what you intended to do,” Odessa said coldly.
“You’re simply too stubborn to admit it.”
She folded her arms elegantly before looking at Mei with open disdain.
“I’ve always tried to teach you proper values and raise you well, but you’ve refused to learn. No matter what your father and I do for you, you never appreciate it.”
Mei narrowed her eyes.
She knew exactly what these two women were trying to accomplish.
Unfortunately for them, she had no intention of letting them succeed.
“I’m not interested in the painting,” Mei repeated with a calm smile, showing not the slightest trace of fear.
“We both know how much you adore Master Yishen’s work,” Odessa replied indifferently.
Mei smiled.
“Yes,” she admitted without hesitation.
“I do love Master Yishen’s paintings, but only the authentic ones.”