?Chapter 784:

    When it rotated halfway, the reverse side came into view.

    A beatter, the crowd gasped in unison, stunned.

    On the back was the image of a phoenix, soaring upward from smoldering ashes. Its wings stretched wide in triumph, beak lifted in a fierce cry toward the heavens.

    A beam of light swept across the surface, revealing the same bird from before — reborn. The contrast between the two sides was striking, a vivid portrayal of life wing its way back from death. The image radiated strength and beauty, striking the crowd with an emotional force. The phoenix seemed so alive it could leap straight out of the canvas, leaving those who had mocked the “dead bird” utterly rooted to the spot.

    “This is…” Mariana’s eyes widened, but no further words came. She stood frozen in silence.

    Just minutes earlier, she had dismissed it without thought. Now it hit her like a p — she had beenpletely wrong.

    And it wasn’t only her. Even Raegan stepped back unconsciously, whispering under her breath, “It’s not a dead bird; it’s a phoenix.”

    “A phoenix reborn.” Kiley’s gaze locked on the ming creature, her eyes glowing with intensity.

    Brilliant concept, masterfully executed. Could this be the hidden gem she had been searching for all along?

    “Who exactly is this Matias Watts?” she murmured.

    Meanwhile, Mariana stood quietly beside her, caught off guard and lost for words. Atst, it dawned on her why this piece might truly be the prized jewel of Orchid Gallery.

    At first, she had written it off as nothing more than a shy trick — painting on both sides of the canvas.

    But now she realized it wasn’t just about paint on two surfaces. There was something deeper at work.

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    She bent down, narrowing her eyes to study it more closely.

    The edges of the phoenix’s wings and certain lines seemed to bleed into the “dead bird” on the reverse, as if the paint from the death side seeped through to sketch the bones beneath the rebirth.

    The dying bird and the rising phoenix weren’t in conflict; they flowed into one another, telling a single story. Death became the soil from which rebirth sprang.

    The painter’s ingenuity and vision went far beyond clever design. The work wrestled with profound ideas beneath its surface.

    Mariana’s fingertips trembled slightly. So this was the truth of it. In that moment, she couldn’t deny that this artist’s skill, imagination, and message stood toe-to-toe with her own prized work, “Raging Waves.”

    She clenched her fists, a spark of determination flickering in her eyes.

    She had clearly misjudged this artist, Matias.

    Yet if it came down to raw talent — without tricks or illusions — she was convinced she still held the upper hand.

    Comforted by that belief, Mariana released a slow, steady breath. Still, a fierce curiosity burned inside her to meet Matias face-to-face.

    “Do you want to meet the artist?” Kiley suddenly asked, her excitement shining through.

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