Tosaki Naohara said, “I concede.”
The whole venue erupted in uproar.
“He… he really admitted defeat?”
“If you’re not as skilled, what else can you do but admit it?”
“Yeah, true…”
If you don’t know, you just don’t know. If you can’t answer, you can’t. It’s a clean knockout—no room for struggle or excuses.
In the delegation seating—
The R-country (Japan) representatives looked absolutely grim.
On the other side, the Huaxia (China) representatives were chatting and laughing with Hu Yongwei.
“Student Jiang is truly remarkable—immensely knowledgeable and well-read. I’ve never met a student so naturally gifted.”
Hu Yongwei nodded. “Our school also places great emphasis on cultivating Jiang. She’s enrolled in elite science classes, the Olympiad math group—everything’s been arranged.”
“Only those two groups?”
Uh…
The Huaxia rep raised an eyebrow. “I heard she even won gold in IOI? That’s the informatics competition, right?”
“Yes—yes. But due to budget constraints, No. 1 High School hasn’t been able to launch a training program for informatics competitions yet, so…”
“Hasn’t launched?! Then how did she—?”
Hu Yongwei gave a sheepish smile. “She’s self-taught.”
“Self-taught…” The Huaxia rep frowned deeply. “How can that be? If she truly has that kind of talent, and the school can’t provide the resources, isn’t that wasting her potential?”
“Sure, she succeeded through self-learning, but we can’t expect every student to be like her, can we?”
Hu Yongwei nodded vigorously. “Exactly, exactly.”
“So, competition training isn’t just something that needs to be done — it needs to flourish across all disciplines. Only then can we fully tap into students’ potential and develop their talents. Time waits for no one. Youth is precious for every child. If we don’t give them as many opportunities as possible to try different things at this crucial moment, then the children nurtured under the current Huaxia education system may end up fundamentally lacking from the start.”
And if those deficiencies are innate, how much effort would it take later to make up for them?
If they can be made up, that’s one thing. But what if they can’t? Then that child’s entire future might be doomed to mediocrity.
“As for funding…” The Huaxia representative paused.
Hu Yongwei immediately perked up his ears.
“When I return to the Imperial Capital, I’ll report it to the higher-ups and push for it to be implemented as soon as possible.”
“Thank you for your efforts,” the old principal said gratefully.
He hadn’t expected such a gain — what a pleasant surprise!
Ten-minute break ended. The final segment, “Art Analysis”, began.
Because of time constraints, live drawing wasn’t feasible, so it was changed to — appreciation.
Judge: “What’s being projected now are two sets of paintings. Each set contains four pieces, all from the Modern Painting category of this year’s New Youth Cranesong Cup. Since the competition is still ongoing, the organizers have enforced strict confidentiality measures for each piece, so no critiques or commentaries can be found anywhere online for these two sets.”
There was something else the judge didn’t say:
These two sets were the final candidates for champion and runner-up, determined by public vote. But the judges were torn — the support rate was split evenly, and the panel was deadlocked, stuck in endless debate.
With the rankings about to be announced and still no consensus, they figured…
Why not let the two kids speak their minds? Maybe they’d bring in new insights or perspectives — and maybe offer the Cranesong Cup judges some reference points too.
“Attention! When analyzing these two sets of paintings, I want to hear clear, decisive opinions. No fence-sitting. To put it bluntly — you need to rank the two sets, state which is better, and write your reasoning on the whiteboard in front of you.”
“Fifteen minutes on the clock. Starting now!”
With that command, Tosaki Naohara immediately began writing.
Jiang Fuyue, however, didn’t move. She simply stared at the two sets of projected artworks, her face thoughtful.
The two sets of paintings—
Set One: “Blind”
First painting: Two tightly clasped hands. One pale and slender, the other dark and rugged — clearly a man and a woman. From the way the hands are held, it’s easy to tell they’re lovers.
Second painting: A garden lush with greenery. A beautiful girl covers her mouth in surprise, while across from her, a man kneels on one knee, holding a ring, proposing.
The artist was masterful with details — from the girl’s delighted hand gesture to her slightly blushed, tear-filled eyes, every emotion was captured vividly.
The scent of love practically poured off the canvas — as full and fragrant as the blooming garden.
Due to the perspective, only the girl’s face was shown clearly; the man proposing was shown only from the back.
Third painting: A church as the backdrop. The girl wears a beautiful wedding gown and holds a bouquet. She’s now a bride waiting at the altar.
This painting featured only the girl. The man was absent.
Fourth painting — here comes the twist!
The newlyweds walk hand-in-hand into the sacred chapel, standing before the priest. The bride is still smiling, immersed in love’s sweetness — but the groom beside her has transformed into a demon, baring sharp fangs.
Behind him spreads a sea of blood-red, and in the smoky darkness farther back, several bloodied hands reach out ominously.
The more beautiful the first three were, the more shocking the last.
The audience began murmuring—
“Whoa! This isn’t a love story — it’s a horror story!”
“All I can think is, that bride better run!”
“What’s the artist trying to say? Just trying to scare us?”
“Feels really dark and depressing.”
“Is the artist suggesting all men are devils? That’s a bit extreme.”
Set Two: “School Uniform”
Also themed around love.
First painting: A tree-lined school path at sunset. A boy and girl in uniforms push a bicycle together. Their backs are lit by the golden light as they walk home from school.
Second painting: Same tree-lined path. Still in school uniforms, but now they’re holding hands.
Third painting: Same setting, but the two no longer wear uniforms. There’s distance between them, their backs look distant and unfamiliar.
Fourth painting: Same path again. Between the couple now stands a tiny child. In the background, other students are heading home after class.
“Ah! I get it — from classmates to lovers, then a fight, then reconciliation, then a baby — a happy ending!”
“So warm! That golden sunlight and the simplicity of school life… feels like the scent of first love.”
“D*mn, now I wanna fall in love too — like, buy breakfast and help with homework kinda love. Anyone wanna be my girlfriend?”
“Tiezhuang’s coming with his 20-meter-long blade. Watch out~”
“You think I’m scared? Pfft— Z-Zhao Director Zhao! Hello sir!” The speaker stood up instantly, face red, eyes shifty.
Zhao Tiejun: “Thinking about dating?”
“No no no! Definitely not! Just got emotional after looking at the paintings. No such thoughts at all.”
Zhao Tiejun’s face darkened. “Good. It’s senior year — focus on studying. Everything else, put it aside.”
“Yes sir! I promise!”
Zhao turned and left.
“Whew— scared me to death. That guy’s like a ghost, appears out of nowhere!”
“Haha, serves you right!”
“That’s the price of running your mouth.”
“Bet the artist had an early relationship. So sweet and fresh.”
“But don’t you think… it’s pretty, sure, but not as impactful as the first set?”
“Yeah! No twist, no surprise.”
“It’s safe and predictable. The first one was more striking.”
“If I had to score, I’d rank the first set higher.”
“Hmm… since we can tell, I bet Sister Yue and Tosaki can too. What if they pick the same one?”
“Then how will they determine a winner?”
Everyone looked at each other in confusion.
“Wait, look at the stage! What is Sister Yue doing?!”
Everyone turned. Tosaki Naohara was scribbling away, while Jiang Fuyue stood unmoving in front of the screen, still staring at the paintings in the same posture as ten minutes ago.
“Is Sister Yue zoning out? Time’s almost up and she hasn’t written anything!”
“What’s going on?!”
“Sister Yue, if you’ve been frozen in place, blink twice and I’ll come rescue you!”
“We’re doomed. Less than five minutes left — what now?!”
Even the judges were shocked by Jiang Fuyue’s monk-like stillness. One walked over to remind her:
“Student Jiang?”
“Hm? Yes?” she replied calmly.
That composed tone…
The judge’s mouth twitched. “Time’s almost up. Aren’t you going to start writing?”
Suddenly, her pupils shrank. She stared at a certain spot on the first set of paintings, looking again and again.
Then she turned to the judge, lips curling into a faint smile: “I’ll write now.”
With that, she picked up her pen and removed the cap.
But — there were only three minutes left…
