The prestigious Royal Han Arts Academy, renowned for nurturing Korea's finest young artists, had never witnessed such suffocating silence.
Hundreds of students, teachers, journalists, and distinguished guests remained rooted to their spots, their eyes fixed upon the once magnificent painting that had become the center of everyone's attention.
Just moments ago, Kang Ji-Yeon had stood before it with unwavering confidence, basking in the admiration of her classmates.
Now...
That confidence was rapidly crumbling alongside the artwork itself.
Master Dong-Hyun slowly lowered his hand after examining the smudged paint on his fingertips. The deep lines on his aged face became more pronounced as his sharp gaze lingered on the damaged canvas.
For decades, he had judged countless international exhibitions.
He had seen inexperienced artists.
He had seen frauds.
He had seen masterpieces.
But he had never witnessed a painting deteriorate before the evaluation had even begun.
The assistant judge carefully stepped closer, inspecting another corner of the painting without touching it.
"The pigment hasn't bonded properly," he muttered.
Another judge nodded.
"The binder quality is poor."
"No..."
A third judge frowned.
"It isn't merely poor."
"This paint is unstable."
Master Dong remained silent.
He continued examining every inch of the canvas as though trying to understand what had happened.
Ji-Yeon's heartbeat thundered inside her chest.
Impossible...
How could this happen?
Min-Ho had painted this herself.
She had watched every single brushstroke.
The painting had looked flawless last night.
Then...
Why?
Why was it suddenly falling apart?
She instinctively took one step backward.
Her closest friends immediately rushed toward her.
"Ji-Yeon!"
"This isn't your fault."
"It has to be the weather."
Another girl quickly added,
"Maybe the humidity affected the paint."
"Exactly!"
"The academy probably stored it improperly."
One of the teachers also frowned at the damaged painting.
"It isn't impossible..."
"If the storage room had unusually high moisture..."
"But..."
He hesitated.
"...I've never seen damage occur this quickly."
The whispers throughout the gallery became louder.
"What a shame."
"I thought she was definitely winning."
"It looked beautiful earlier."
"I don't understand."
A journalist quietly whispered to his cameraman,
"Keep recording."
"This could become today's biggest story."
The flashes from cameras became even more frequent.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Each flash felt like another slap across Ji-Yeon's face.
Master Dong finally turned toward the academy principal.
"When was this painting completed?"
The principal quickly answered.
"Yesterday afternoon, Master Dong."
"And when was it displayed?"
"Immediately afterward."
Master Dong slowly nodded.
"So..."
"The damage occurred overnight."
His calm voice echoed through the silent gallery.
"No properly prepared painting should deteriorate within a single day."
The statement struck everyone like lightning.
Ji-Yeon's breathing became uneven.
One of her friends immediately protested.
"But Master Dong!"
"Surely this was just an accident!"
Another eagerly nodded.
"Yes!"
"Technical issues happen."
"The academy should investigate the storage room."
Several students agreed.
"It isn't fair."
"She shouldn't lose because of bad luck."
Master Dong looked toward them without changing his expression.
"There is a simple solution."
Everyone fell silent again.
The elderly painter slowly folded his hands behind his back.
"If the artwork truly reflects Miss Kang's ability..."
"...then recreating it should not be difficult."
Ji-Yeon's pupils shrank.
"...What?"
Master Dong continued calmly.
"The academy possesses a professional studio."
"We can prepare fresh canvas..."
"...fresh brushes..."
"...and professional-grade paints."
He paused deliberately before delivering the final sentence.
"Paint it again."
Silence.
Utter silence.
Ji-Yeon felt as though the ground beneath her feet had disappeared.
Paint...
Again?
Right here?
Before everyone?
A cold chill ran down her spine.
She couldn't.
She had never painted anything remotely close to that masterpiece.
Forget recreating it...
She couldn't even sketch the basic composition.
Her friends looked equally stunned.
One of them nervously laughed.
"M-Master Dong..."
"Surely that's unnecessary..."
He looked directly at her.
"Is it?"
The girl immediately lowered her head.
Nobody dared answer.
The assistant judges quietly exchanged approving glances.
One of them spoke.
"It would also remove every suspicion."
"If the painting's deterioration truly resulted from technical failure..."
"Miss Kang will simply reproduce her work."
Another judge nodded.
"And perhaps produce an even better version."
The audience murmured in agreement.
"That's reasonable."
"Exactly."
"If she's truly talented..."
"It shouldn't be a problem."
Ji-Yeon's face gradually lost all color.
Inside her mind...
Panic erupted.
What do I do?
What do I do?
If I refuse...
Everyone will become suspicious.
If I accept...
They'll discover I can't paint.
No...
No...
Mother...
Father...
Someone...
Help me...
The principal smiled politely.
"I'll have the staff prepare the studio immediately."
Within minutes, academy employees began moving easels into the center of the gallery.
Fresh white canvas.
Premium imported paints.
Professional brushes.
Everything was arranged under bright exhibition lights.
The audience eagerly gathered around.
Journalists repositioned their cameras.
Several famous painters remained seated, curious to witness the recreation.
Master Dong himself took a chair directly in front of the easel.
He crossed his arms.
"We'll begin whenever you're ready."
Ji-Yeon's legs suddenly felt weak.
Her friends surrounded her once again.
"You can do this."
"Just calm down."
"We know you're talented."
One girl whispered,
"Maybe the pressure is making you nervous."
Ji-Yeon forced herself to smile.
"...Right."
Pressure.
That sounded believable.
She slowly approached the easel.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
The entire gallery watched her.
She picked up a brush.
Her fingers trembled almost imperceptibly.
Everyone assumed it was nervousness.
Only Ji-Yeon knew the truth.
She had absolutely no idea what to paint.
She dipped the brush into blue paint.
Paused.
Lifted it toward the canvas.
Stopped.
Nothing came to mind.
No composition.
No perspective.
No color harmony.
Her mind was completely blank.
A minute passed.
Then another.
The audience exchanged puzzled looks.
Master Dong quietly observed without saying a word.
Sweat trickled down Ji-Yeon's temple.
She finally forced herself to make the first stroke.
A single blue line.
Then another.
Almost immediately...
She realized something was wrong.
The proportions looked awkward.
She hurriedly painted over them.
That only made things worse.
Someone in the audience frowned.
"...Isn't the original composition different?"
Another whispered,
"It doesn't resemble the displayed painting."
Ji-Yeon heard every word.
Her heartbeat became deafening.
She desperately added mountains.
Trees.
Clouds.
But every element looked disconnected.
Flat.
Lifeless.
Nothing like the breathtaking artwork displayed beside her.
One assistant judge quietly sighed.
Master Dong's expression remained unreadable.
Another ten minutes passed.
The contrast between both paintings became painfully obvious.
One looked like the work of a gifted artist.
The other...
Looked like an ordinary high-school assignment.
Ji-Yeon's breathing became increasingly ragged.
No...
This can't continue...
If I keep painting...
Everything will be exposed.
She glanced around desperately.
Hundreds of eyes stared back.
Some confused.
Some disappointed.
Some suspicious.
Then...
An idea suddenly flashed across her mind.
Her gaze slowly drifted toward the metal palette knife lying beside the easel.
A way out.
An unfortunate accident...
Everyone would sympathize with her.
No one could blame an injured artist.
She tightened her grip around the brush.
"I..."
She forced her voice to tremble.
"I think..."
"My hands are shaking..."
One teacher stepped forward.
"Would you like a short break?"
Ji-Yeon slowly nodded.
"Y-Yes..."
She pretended to wipe the sweat from her forehead before reaching toward the palette.
As she "accidentally" turned...
She deliberately dragged her palm across the sharp edge of the palette knife.
Slice!
A sharp cry pierced the gallery.
"Ahh!"
The brush fell onto the floor.
Bright red blood immediately stained her trembling hand.
Gasps erupted throughout the hall.
"Ji-Yeon!"
"Oh my goodness!"
"Someone call the nurse!"
Several teachers rushed toward her.
One quickly grabbed clean cloth to stop the bleeding.
Another supported her trembling shoulders.
Ji-Yeon squeezed her eyes shut as tears streamed down her cheeks.
"I..."
"I'm sorry..."
"I can't..."
"My hand..."
She sobbed convincingly.
"I wanted to finish..."
"But..."
"It hurts..."
The academy nurse hurried over and examined the wound.
"It's a deep cut."
"She needs stitches."
Master Dong silently watched everything unfold.
His experienced eyes lingered on the perfectly straight cut across Ji-Yeon's dominant hand.
He said nothing.
Not because he believed it was accidental.
But because there was no proof otherwise.
The principal sighed heavily.
"I'm afraid..."
"We'll have to discontinue today's live evaluation."
Ji-Yeon buried her face into her uninjured hand, crying louder as her classmates comforted her.
Behind the tears...
Hidden from everyone's sight...
A faint smile briefly appeared on her lips.
She had escaped.
For now.
Yet she failed to notice that Master Dong continued watching her with thoughtful eyes.
The elderly master's intuition, sharpened by fifty years in the art world, whispered that today's events were far from ordinary.
And somewhere, hidden beneath this carefully staged tragedy...
A far greater truth was waiting to be uncovered.