Chapter 3Rebirth of the Artist They Buried Alive

I bought a professional signal detector online and carefully checked every corner of the studio, even every socket.

The result was nothing.

But to be safe, I packed up my art supplies and took a cab to a rented study room far from the school.

I chose a fully enclosed private room, ensuring there couldn't possibly be any pre-installed monitoring devices.

This time, I painted a still life titled "Broken Plaster Cast".

I deliberately used some unconventional color choices and light-shadow treatments, ideas I had only recently come up with and never mentioned to anyone.

After finishing, I didn't take it with me but locked it in the study room's storage locker.

However, that very night.

In an art group chat full of industry bigwigs, Vanessa posted a more refined version of the same themed painting, under the guise of seeking advice.

It was exactly "Broken Plaster Cast".

She posted the image even half an hour before I had finished my painting!

The bigwigs in the group lavished praise on her, complimenting her bold ideas and mature techniques.

A few sharp-eyed ones recognized my signature style and began to whisper.

"This style, doesn't it look a bit like that Eliza from the art school?"

"It does look similar, but Vanessa's version is more refined and the concept more mature. Guess Eliza is copying Vanessa again? She does have a history of it."

"Young people these days, always looking for shortcuts."

I was even more confused and bewildered. How exactly was Vanessa stealing my work?

Sitting alone in the empty studio, I reviewed the entire incident.

Physical isolation was ineffective, signal blocking was ineffective.

This almost ruled out all conventional methods of theft.

I recalled the interviews Vanessa gave after winning the gold medal in my previous life.

She spoke eloquently, but whenever asked about the details of her creative process and inner journey, her answers always seemed hollow and superficial.

Like a poor actor reciting lines that didn't belong to her.

Back then, I just thought she wasn't good at expressing herself.

Now I realize, perhaps she simply didn't know what to say.

Because she only had the result, not the process.

A somewhat absurd idea formed in my mind.

I messaged Chloe, sharing my thoughts with her, and then began to implement my plan.

I sat in front of the easel, but didn't take out my brushes or set up a canvas.

I just closed my eyes and began to conceptualize a painting in my mind.

I envisioned a black cat crouching on a windowsill, with a gloomy sky threatening rain behind it, and lightning breaking through the clouds in the distance.

The overall tone of the image was somber, full of tension.

In my mind, I also added a unique emerald green color to the cat's eyes.

The next day, Chloe burst into my studio again.

Her face was full of anger, "Eliza! Look at this, Vanessa is inhuman!"

She slammed her phone down on my table.

On the screen was Vanessa's latest social media post, published in the early hours of the morning.

It was an exquisitely beautiful oil sketch.

It depicted exactly a black cat crouching on a windowsill, with the cat's eyes shimmering with that unmistakable emerald green I had imagined!

Her caption was casual and smug:

"Couldn't sleep, just a little inspiration~ Especially love that green in the cat's eyes, doesn't it look like an emerald?"

I stared at the painting.

All the mist in my mind cleared at this moment.

So that's how it was!

Chloe, seeing me actually smile, stomped her foot in frustration.

"Eliza, what are you smiling about? She's copying you! This time she's copying from inside your head! It's like witchcraft! What on earth are we going to do?"

I shook my head: "No, Chloe."

She's not just copying the ideas in my head.

It's more direct!

I laughed freely: "It's great that she can do this!"

Vanessa, since you love copying so much.

This time, I'll let you copy to your heart's content!