The gap between them was simply too large. Lin Feng stood in the heavens.
Shen Jue stood on the ground. Comparing the two was almost laughable.
With a sigh, Shen Jue emptied another jar.
At some point, his frustration slowly transformed into acceptance.
"If I can't be the one beside her..."
He stared toward the sky.
"...then I can only hope that one day I find someone who truly loves me."
For the first time in many years, he felt as though it was finally time to let go.
The thought was painful. But strangely enough, it also felt liberating.
As the competition continued and thousands of brushes moved across their canvases, Shen Jue silently watched from the crowd, wondering what fate had prepared for him in the future.
"Oh? So you give up that easily? How pathetic."
Just as Shen Jue was sinking into his despair, a cold and unfamiliar voice suddenly echoed inside his ears.
His body stiffened.
The voice had come without warning, as though it had appeared out of thin air.
