Chapter 164

Caleb Monroe stood at the entrance of the Script Hall, his palms slightly damp with sweat.

He had dreamed of stepping inside to see those legendary masterpieces. If he could even exchange a few words with the masters within, his life would be complete.

"Mr. Cross, it's all up to you now," he muttered nervously, rubbing his hands together.

Damian Cross ran his slender fingers along the edge of the rice paper before suddenly turning to Aria Bennett. "My calligraphy is passable, but my painting skills are hardly presentable."

A glint of mischief flashed in his eyes. "Luckily, we have an undiscovered prodigy right here."

Everyone's gaze shifted to Aria.

Dean Ambrose adjusted his reading glasses. "This young lady?"

"Exactly." Damian's lips curved slightly. "Ms. Bennett's paintings are ten times better than mine."

The vice dean's interest was piqued. "For Mr. Cross to praise you so highly, I must see this for myself." He added meaningfully, "Last year, Damian earned his place in our pavilion with Pine and Crane. If you can surpass that..."

Before he could finish, murmurs erupted through the crowd.

Who would have guessed that A-list actor Damian Cross was also a master of calligraphy and painting?

And even more shocking—he had just publicly admitted Aria was better!

Aria, who had been lounging lazily at the back of the group, nearly choked on her own saliva.

How does he even know I can paint?

"Come on, Aria, show us what you've got!" Caleb clapped excitedly. "I can't wait to see this legendary showdown!"

With a resigned sigh, Aria stepped forward. As she passed Damian, she lowered her voice. "You planned this, didn’t you?"

Damian chuckled softly. "Consider it a chance to impress me."

They took their places at adjacent desks.

Damian dipped his brush into the ink, then leaned in close to her ear. "I'll write Ode to the Plum Blossom. Will you paint the plum to accompany it?"

His warm breath brushed against her ear, making the tip of it flush pink.

"Actually..." An idea struck her. "Why don’t you write the poem, and I'll paint beside it?"

Damian's eyes lit up. "Great minds think alike."

The live comments exploded:

[AHHHH that whisper just killed me!]

[The way Damian looks at her—UNREAL.]

[This is blatant flirting!]

[Too sweet! I’m gonna die from diabetes!]

Haters immediately lashed out:

[Aria can paint? Yeah, right!]

[Did someone put a spell on Damian?]

[Waiting for her epic fail!]

Damian’s brush danced across the paper, the verses of Ode to the Plum Blossom materializing in bold strokes.

"Amazing!" Caleb gasped.

Dean Ambrose nodded approvingly. "Strong and refined—already the mark of a master." He hesitated, glancing at Aria. "Perhaps the young lady should—"

"No need," Damian interrupted. "I trust Ms. Bennett."

Aria took a deep breath and raised her brush.

The moment the tip touched the paper, her entire demeanor transformed.

Her expression serene, her wrist moved with effortless grace. A lone plum branch bloomed beside the poem, its petals delicate yet vivid.

The crowd fell silent.

Dean Ambrose’s glasses slid down his nose, forgotten.

The live comments went wild:

[That technique is PROFESSIONAL.]

[Oh my god, she’s creating a 3D effect!]

[The dew on the petals looks like it’s actually glistening!]

With the final stroke, the room erupted in applause.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" The vice dean’s beard quivered with excitement. "The poem and painting complement each other perfectly—a true masterpiece!"

Damian gazed at the artwork, warmth softening his eyes. "I knew it."

Aria arched a brow. "Knew what?"

He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "That you and I... are meant to be."

The live comments went into meltdown:

[WHAT DID HE JUST SAY?!]

[LIP-READERS, ASSEMBLE!]

[DAMIAN CROSS IS TOO SMOOTH! HOW IS ANYONE SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE THIS?!]

The vermilion gates of the Script Hall slowly swung open.

Dean Ambrose gestured grandly. "After you, both of you—"