Chapter 48: Despair Named Hope

The gymnasium was enveloped in silence. After all, this was a gathering of painters; none of those present made a sound. Over a hundred participants stood with their backs to the audience, feeling the weight of expectation.

Yun Xuan’s painting was, as always, simple. The image contained only a young girl, clutching a tattered rag doll in her arms, her face etched with despair. At first glance, it seemed to have nothing to do with war.

Two hours passed.

“Time’s up. All contestants, please take one step back,” the host announced after glancing at the large screen.

All the participants stepped back; surprisingly, more than half hadn’t finished their work.

“Those with unfinished pieces, please take your paintings with you,” said Nan Qingshan, president of the Fangyu City Artists’ Association, frowning.

Dozens of contestants quickly left, and in the blink of an eye, only forty-five remained.

As if by a twist of fate, everyone behind Yun Xuan exited, leaving him as the last to present his work.

Yun Xuan observed the others presenting their pieces, unfazed, but three caught his attention.

The first was Lin Tong, the favorite to win—a young painter from the art school. He had painted the land after war.

The second was Chang Yue, the art college student who had spoken to him earlier. Her piece depicted a grand battle, with weapons conjured from her imagination.

The third was a foreign student, Shimura Yushan, whose painting captured the clash of blades between samurai.

Yun Xuan had seen these three discussed in the official Xingyue Cup forum; many considered them the leading contenders.

The presentations moved quickly, and soon it was Yun Xuan’s turn.

He pushed his painting to the front. As the judges gazed at the girl in the picture, all five were momentarily stunned.

“Contestant forty-five, please explain the meaning of your painting,” Nan Qingshan managed to say, suppressing his astonishment.

“My understanding of war is different from yours,” Yun Xuan replied seriously. “It’s not about grand battlefields or fierce clashes of steel. It’s about despair. That’s right—what war brings to ordinary people is despair, nothing else.”

There is nothing in war worth celebrating, only despair.

In this world, there were no reports about war, thanks to the powerful influence of Huaxia.

In his world, however, conflict among foreigners never ceased, and wherever the fighting raged, the civilians suffered without exception.

As Yun Xuan finished speaking, the hall was utterly silent.

On the big screen, the little girl from Yun Xuan’s painting appeared. Her eyes were hollow, staring into an unfathomable distance. Smudges stained her face, her clothes were ragged, and she clung tightly to her rag doll.

The emotional impact was overwhelming. For these ordinary people who had never witnessed the tragedies of war, they truly felt the little girl’s sorrow.

It was the resignation to the world, the utter hopelessness for the future.

A voice sounded, “Score: 9.5. Value: 5.9 million! Please name your work.”

Yun Xuan looked at the image of the girl that had suddenly appeared on the screen. This must be the primary AI at work.

“Five point nine million!” A collective gasp swept through the audience. The initial AI’s valuation was never wrong, but this was, after all, just a student’s painting.

“I’ll call it Hope,” Yun Xuan said softly.

“Name registered. The painting ‘Hope’ will become the representative work of the artist Yun Xuan,” the AI announced.

“Hope?” Up in the stands, Nangong Xiaoxiao stood up, sighed, and took out her phone to send a message.

“I hereby declare the first place in this Fangyu City Xingyue Cup preliminary is... Yun Xuan!” Nan Qingshan led the applause.

The whole audience, along with the remaining contestants, broke into applause.

“Well deserved, Yun Xuan. You’re truly skilled,” said Shimura Yushan quietly, the foreign student.

“Your painting is excellent as well,” Yun Xuan replied, giving Shimura’s work a quick glance. It was indeed a masterpiece.

“Congratulations,” Lin Tong said earnestly.

“Thank you.” Yun Xuan felt no particular fondness for the handsome young man.

“Congratulations...” Chang Yue bit her lip, on the verge of tears.

“Wait for me a moment,” Yun Xuan said in a low voice.

Chang Yue was startled, then nodded.

There was no award ceremony for the Xingyue Cup preliminary. As the participants left, Yun Xuan was invited by the association’s staff to a temporary office backstage, with “Hope” guarded by several people.

“Yun Xuan, a student at Shengyu Flow High—very impressive. Would you be interested in studying painting with me?” Nan Qingshan asked with a smile.

“Sorry, it’s just a personal hobby. I don’t want to devote myself to painting,” Yun Xuan refused without hesitation.

“You’re the first young person to turn me down. About your work, ‘Hope,’ are you interested in selling it?” Nan Qingshan asked with a wry smile. With Yun Xuan treating painting merely as a hobby, others might be infuriated.

“What’s the offer?” Yun Xuan wasn’t surprised. A painting valued at 5.9 million—he hadn’t expected that, but perhaps it was a difference in perspective.

“Eight million, offered by Nangong Xiaoxiao, last year’s Xingyue Cup champion,” Nan Qingshan said openly.

“Very well, since it’s Teacher Nangong Xiaoxiao, I’ll sell it to her,” Yun Xuan agreed with a smile.

“Here’s a bank card with eight million on it. The password is 123... Transfer the funds before you leave,” Nan Qingshan handed him the card.

Yun Xuan took out his phone and transferred the money with practiced ease. Eight million—easily obtained.

“As for the Xingyue Cup finals, there will be 108 contestants. The topic will be announced on-site, just like in Fangyu City, selected by a designated individual. You’ll need to go to the capital for the final. Here’s your ticket, proof of identity, and a contact card. The final is on the twentieth,” Nan Qingshan said, handing him the ticket and two cards.

One was the main organizer’s contact, the other was proof of his first-place finish in Fangyu City, printed by the primary AI and exclusive to Yun Xuan.

“Isn’t Fangyu City sending anyone to observe?” Yun Xuan asked curiously.

“We’ll arrive on the twentieth. You need to go ahead and check in with the organizers. If you prefer, you can travel with us old-timers,” Nan Qingshan chuckled.

“That would be too much trouble for you. I’ll go ahead on my own, thank you. I’ll be off now,” Yun Xuan said, accepting the items and preparing to leave.

“Your prize money—one hundred thousand. Aren’t you going to take it?” Nan Qingshan called after him, placing the cash on the table.

“I almost forgot, thanks for the reminder.” Yun Xuan smacked his forehead. If he’d left it behind, he’d have had no excuse.

Leaving the temporary office, Yun Xuan looked at Chang Yue, who was waiting on a bench in the corridor.

“I have a job offer for you. It’s strictly confidential, and you’ll need to sign a maid contract with me. The signing bonus is this one hundred thousand, for a term of three years, salary included,” Yun Xuan said, smiling as he stood before her.

“A maid contract... Will you really give me the one hundred thousand just for signing?” Chang Yue stared at the cash in Yun Xuan’s hand, her face pale.

“No, I’ll pay it directly toward your father’s hospital bills, and I’ll go to the hospital with you,” Yun Xuan replied, shaking his head.

“All right...” Chang Yue wiped her tears, a hint of grievance in her voice.