Chapter 95: Chapter 90: Senior Sister’s Painting Was Plagiarized

Arthur Lockwood expected Alvin Morgan to leave with his group after being ridiculed by Mr. Guthrie. He was surprised to see them return to the Lockwood family’s private room to continue watching the awards ceremony.

He had also invited the Sinclairs to watch with them.

Soon, the sofas in the private room were nearly full.

The Sinclairs hardly dared to breathe, sitting primly on the other side. Only Aurora Sinclair remained completely unfazed, handing out fruit to her family.

Master Sinclair naturally trusted Aurora’s word. However, the thought that the plagiarist was Stella made his heart grow cold, and he simply closed his eyes.

The Lockwood family’s private room was situated right in the center of the venue’s second floor, offering a clear, sweeping view of the entire hall.

Leigh Miles pulled Jean Quincy to a sofa at the very front. From there, she could see the smile on Stella Sinclair’s face with perfect clarity and secretly gritted her teeth.

’So shameless!’

“And now, for the highlight of our awards ceremony. We will be contacting Master Flora Guthrie live, and she will offer her guidance to our top three prize winners.”

The hall erupted in thunderous applause. A connection icon appeared on the large screen onstage, and the sound of a phone dialing echoed from the speakers.

“RING… RING… RING…”

The call finally connected after the fifth ring.

A video feed appeared on the screen, but the person on the other end was not visible.

“What is it now?” The voice on the other end was pleasant to the ear, but laced with impatience.

Hearing the familiar voice, Leigh Miles’s face filled with shock. She turned to stare blankly at Aurora. “Senior Sister, that… that’s… that’s our Master’s wife, isn’t it?”

“Ma… Master’s wife…” The voice also drew the attention of Titus Miles, who was standing nearby. He set down his little wooden car, pressed his face to the glass, and stared forward with wide, round eyes.

Upon hearing this, Master Sinclair’s eyes snapped open. His expression was darker than thunder, and his knuckles turned white from gripping his cane.

The conversation on stage continued, with Master Flora Guthrie patiently asking the organizers to send her the three artworks.

A moment later, a stern voice came from the other end. “Who painted that picture of the hen?”

Stella flinched but quickly composed herself. She took the microphone from the host with a balanced air, saying, “Hello, Master Flora Guthrie. My name is Stella Sinclair…”

“Sinclair? One of the Sinclairs?” Master Flora Guthrie’s voice softened slightly.

Stella’s eyes lit up, and she replied with a smile, “Yes, my name is Stella Sinclair.”

Master Flora Guthrie abruptly hung up.

The host immediately tried to regain control, asking the staff to reconnect the call. However, a mechanical female voice came through: “We’re sorry, the person you have called is busy. Please try again later…”

The recorded message from the speakers played at the exact same time a phone began to ring in Aurora Sinclair’s hand.

Aurora slowly pulled out her phone. Jean Quincy leaned over for a look. The caller ID read, “Master’s Wife.”

It was clearly a call from Master Flora Guthrie, whom the event staff couldn’t reach.

With a flick of her wrist, Leigh Miles snatched the phone, swiped to answer, and blurted out, “Master’s Wife, Senior Sister’s painting has been plagiarized!”

Aurora immediately snatched the phone back, held it to her ear, and said calmly, “Master’s Wife…”

She was immediately met with a furious tirade.

Flora Guthrie’s voice was so loud and carried so well that even without speakerphone, everyone in the room could clearly hear what she was saying.

“You little brat! If I don’t call you, you won’t even call to let me know you’re safe?”

Aurora held the phone slightly away from her ear, her expression placid as she replied, “There was no signal on the mountain…”

“So you couldn’t have sent me a text?”

“I did…”

“You did? You have the nerve to say that? ’Master’s Wife, I’m fine in Kingsford. Don’t worry.’ Just look at that! How many words was that, seven? You ungrateful disciple!”

Aurora’s one-word reply, “Mm,” only served to enrage the woman on the other end, who launched into another tirade before issuing a strict command: “From now on, you will call or text me every day. And it has to be at least fifty words…”

Hearing the woman on the phone go further and further off-topic, Leigh Miles shouted into the receiver, “Master’s Wife, my Senior Sister’s painting was plagiarized!”

Flora Guthrie finally paused, then roared at Leigh, “You little brat, are you trying to deafen me? Can’t you learn to speak quietly like your Senior Sister?”

Leigh pouted and mumbled unhappily, “Senior Sister barely speaks at all…”

Flora Guthrie had a booming voice. After scolding Leigh, she turned on Aurora. “Your work was plagiarized, so why don’t you just take it back? Did Master Aerion teach you martial arts for nothing?”

Leigh was speechless.

’Is this really something you can take back with force?’

“Let this be a lesson to you. Be more careful from now on! Do you really think Kingsford is like Sunstone? Leigh, you keep a close eye on your Senior Sister and Junior Brother. Don’t let anyone trick them…”

Leigh quickly agreed.

Flora Guthrie’s words made everyone in the room feel a bit awkward, especially the Sinclairs.

***

In the adjacent private room, Jensen Guthrie was dialing the number over and over, but the line was always busy.

Seeing the crowd below buzzing with discussion, Zane Guthrie looked extremely anxious. “Jensen, call Lana. Ask her what’s going on!”

Lana Guthrie was Master Flora Guthrie’s younger sister. The Calligraphy Association usually went through Lana whenever they wanted to invite the master. It was Lana who had personally sought out Master Flora Guthrie this time to secure this opportunity for her to mentor the participants.

Jensen’s call to Lana connected quickly, and her voice came through.

“Don’t panic. She’s on the phone with her disciple!”

At these words, everyone in the room shot to their feet, their faces a mixture of shock and glee.

’Master Flora Guthrie has a disciple?’

’Does that mean she might be willing to take on others?’

Zane Guthrie immediately snatched the phone. Suppressing his excitement, he asked respectfully, “Lana, when did Master Flora Guthrie take on a disciple? Is she interested in accepting any more?”

“I don’t know. She just hung up. You can try calling now,” Lana replied curtly before ending the call.

“Quick! Call her now!”

***

The connection graphic reappeared on the big screen. This time, the call was answered after a single ring.

The host breathed a sigh of relief, but before he could speak, Master Flora Guthrie’s voice boomed, “And you have the audacity to ask me to critique a plagiarized piece of work? The Association’s standards are getting lower and lower!”

Her words left everyone in the venue stunned.

A sense of foreboding rose in Zane Guthrie’s heart, but it was too late. Master Flora Guthrie’s voice rang out from the speakers, bluntly calling out a name. “Stella Sinclair, are those two pieces of yours truly your own original work?”

The awards ceremony erupted into chaos. Every guest’s gaze fell upon Stella Sinclair, and a wave of murmurs swept through the crowd.

Stella’s face turned deathly pale. Her body trembled, and she looked as if she were about to collapse.

In the audience, Hailey Gordon was also stunned speechless, sitting frozen in her seat with a dazed expression, her mind a complete blank.

The murmurs of the crowd flooded her ears.

“My God! The work of Kingsford’s own prodigy, Stella Sinclair, isn’t even original?”

“I never would have guessed. She played the part so convincingly.”

“From what Master Flora Guthrie said, it sounds like two of her paintings aren’t original. Does that mean the *Child Feeding Chickens Painting* was also plagiarized?”

“Heavens! The nerve on her is unbelievable!”

“Is that her mother next to her? What kind of job did she do raising her child?”

…

Onstage, Stella felt like a clown whose costume had been stripped away in public, leaving her exposed to everyone’s judgment.

The people around her seemed to blur. The voices in her ears grew faint, then faded into nothing.

Before darkness consumed her, she heard one last sentence: “Your technical skill is good, and your copy is very convincing. But it is easy to capture the form, yet difficult to capture the spirit. Lastly, a word of advice: be honest and down-to-earth. Do not covet a hollow reputation that isn’t yours…”

“Stella—!”

Hailey Gordon finally snapped out of her stupor and scrambled frantically toward the stage.

Stella now lay on the floor like a broken doll, her eyes squeezed shut.

The host, terrified and unsure of what to do, instinctively took a few steps back.

On the second floor, Tanner and Janet Sinclair exchanged a look, then spun around and dashed out. But another figure was even faster.

“Senior Sister—!”

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