?Chapter 835:


    That woman was none other than Sophia S. Schrader — the famed painter who had once enchanted all of Otruitho before she disappeared without a trace. She stood at the center of the frame, her lips curved in a gentle smile. There was a glow about her, something maic. You couldn’t tear your eyes away.


    Just below the photograph, a short caption stated, “Ms. Sophia S. Schrader donated thirty million to the Gascoyne Museum.”


    Still, what truly floored the crowd wasn’t the donation. It was Sophia’s smile — it matched the one in Maia’s painting to perfection.


    The gallery froze. The silence was soplete it felt as if everyone had stopped breathing at once. And then, the reactions erupted.


    “It’s unreal!”


    “Looks exactly the same!”


    “Maia didn’t just paint her face — she captured her spirit. The lighting, the emotion, even the tiniest details in the brushwork… it’s like Sophia walked out of the frame!”


    “How in the world did Maia pull this off? Had she somehow seen this photo before thepetition?”


    “As if just having a picture could help anyone paint something that alive! If you ask me, the winner’s right in front of us!”


    “That’s for sure — there’s no question — Maia takes the crown today!”


    Someone rose from their seat and approached the painting, peering closely through a magnifying ss, silently examining every detail.


    Grover’s eyes looked a little ssy, as if years of bottled-up feelings were finally breaking free. He moved forward, stopped in front of the artwork, drew in a deep breath, and announced with authority, “As curator of the Gascoyne Museum, I officially name Ms. Watson the winner of this painting showdown!”


    Right away, the room exploded with apuse, the sound bouncing off the gallery walls. The crowd roared her name with excitement.


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    Reporters rushed in, their cameras clicking nonstop, eager to capture the historic moment.


    “Well earned!”


    “Maia, you’re a legend!”


    Voices shouting “Mariana’s lost!” echoed from every corner of the room.


    Eager collectors jumped in with offers right away.


    “Ms. Watson, I’m ready to pay a hundred million for that piece!”


    “I’ll go higher — one hundred and fifty million!”


    “I’ll give you my entire private collection if you’d just sell it to me!”


    Amid the flurry of fierce bids and admiring stares, Maia only smiled softly and gently shook her head.


    “Sorry, I’ve already made it clear — this painting isn’t up for grabs,” she said firmly.


    Her eyes scanned the crowd until they settled on a familiar, handsome face. Her look was steady and warm. “Because this isn’t merely art. It’s a gift.”<fn4916> Readplete version only at Find★Novel</fn4916>


    Following her gaze, everyone’s attention shifted to Sophia’s son — Chris.


    “Oh my God! I was truly in tears — Maia had shown such incredible kindness to her bodyguard. Had everything she done tonight been just so he could see his mother onest time?”


    “I had always believed Sophia had simply retired, but it turned out she had passed away… Still, her son was incredibly fortunate. He encountered another artistic genius who managed to revive his mother’s spirit across time.”


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