[Our sweet girl is just too kind-hearted. She keeps rejecting the male lead because of his engagement.]
[These two precious souls can't be together because of that awful villainess. The male lead has to jump through hoops just to give her gifts, and even then, she only reluctantly accepts them.]
These comments made me seriously question their collective intelligence.
If Juliana were truly as kind-hearted as they claimed, why would she get involved with Clint knowing full well he was engaged?
Her so-called "rejections" were nothing but playing hard to get.
One look at her wardrobe—not a single affordable item in sight—told you everything. God knows how much that fool Clint had spent on her.
And they actually believed she needed the prize money for tuition? The sheer stupidity was dragging down the average IQ of our entire circle.
I regarded them with cold indifference and stated once more:
"I wouldn't stoop to swapping paintings for a title—let alone for a mere preliminary round."
The students around us began to waver.
"She's right. This competition is just domestic. Wallis has always competed at the International Art Invitational level."
"Her family's loaded, and she's already made a name for herself. Why would she need to swap paintings?"
"What would she even gain?"
Doubt flickered across Clint's face. He glanced at me, something uncertain in his expression.
Juliana's lips curled into a mocking smile. She jabbed a finger toward my face.
"Do I need to spell it out for you?"
"It's obviously for the guaranteed admission spot!"
Her voice turned icy. "You all think this competition is just about rankings and prize money. But the finals champion gets a guaranteed spot at a top-tier overseas art academy!"
"That's something no amount of competition wins can buy!"
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
Clint's gaze hardened with disgust. "Even if you worm your way into an elite institution through dirty tricks, you won't last. Besides—" His eyes glinted. "Your true colors are about to be exposed."
When my expression remained unchanged, he pointed at me, his voice dripping with contempt.
"You won't cry until you see the coffin!"
A group of uniformed investigators approached, one of them holding a USB drive. "This contains footage of the entire painting process and submission. We're here to make everything public."
The lead investigator turned to me. "You're Wallis Gilbert, the one who was reported, correct? I'll ask you one final time—did you swap someone else's painting to secure the guaranteed admission?"
Triumph gleamed in Juliana's and Clint's eyes. They were practically salivating, waiting for the footage to play and watch me crumble.
I rolled my eyes and spread my hands toward the staff.
"I was admitted on an accelerated track last year. Why would I swap paintings just to get admitted again?"
