Reborn One Week Before the Apocalypse

Chapter 353: Chapter 343: The Opposite of Darkness

Qiao Jin’s painting was titled *Light*.

Light, the antithesis of black.

It also featured a slender figure. This figure stood with boundless darkness behind it.

The figure’s face was fully visible in the frame, tilted slightly upward, gazing forward.

And before it, there was light.

The most masterful part of the entire painting was its use of color for the light. The natural, blended transitions felt warm and unobtrusive. The progression of just a few colors created a sense of intimacy, making one involuntarily want to draw closer, to possess it, to bathe in its glow.

The expression on the figure’s face was also perfect. It wasn’t quite a smile; there seemed to be a hint of shock and disbelief, yet it was undeniably blissful.

It was like seeing a mirage from a dream, but a real, tangible one—not something that couldn’t be touched or reached.

’So the world isn’t entirely black after all. There’s actually light. And this light... it’s so beautiful, so warm.’

Anyone who looked at this expression could feel the emotions of the person in the painting at that very moment, a complete and total empathy.

The viewers even found themselves involuntarily wanting to reach out and touch the light, as if enchanted by some magical force that left them mesmerized.

After gazing at the light for a long time, their eyes would drift back to the blackness behind the figure.

Perhaps it was just an illusion, but the black seemed to have faded somewhat. It no longer appeared as deep and intense as it did at first glance.

It was a static, two-dimensional painting, yet for some reason, as people’s eyes moved from the darkness to the light, it felt as if the darkness was being dispelled.

The black was clearly still there, yet it felt as if it were about to recede into the background.

’Is this some kind of magic?’

Everyone was astounded by this optical illusion they were experiencing.

In truth, it wasn’t magic, but Tang Mo’s clever use of color in the transition between the black and light sections.

When the human eye stares at the light she painted for an extended period, it becomes overexposed. When one then looks at the black, it creates the visual illusion that something has changed.

This technique leveraged not only color but also the way the human eye focuses.

This perceived change between the black and the light was, in fact, the painting’s true masterstroke.

Ingenious. Absolutely ingenious!

After seeing such a painting, no one had any intention of questioning it further. They were utterly convinced.

After viewing Qiao Jin’s painting, Zhang Siyang’s piece next to it seemed vastly inferior by comparison.

Zhang Siyang’s painting was simple, a depiction of the scenery in this very valley.

The technical skill was actually quite good; it was an almost perfect reproduction of the surroundings.

To be fair, if Zhang Siyang’s skills were truly terrible, no one would have believed they could have copied Qiao Jin’s painting back then.

There was nothing technically wrong with Zhang Siyang’s painting.

But despite its technical faultlessness, it was not a good work of art.

Because there was no emotion to be found in it.

What makes a work of art *art* is the emotion it contains and the feelings it conveys to the viewer.

If high technical skill and realism were all that mattered, why not just take a photograph? A camera can capture reality with far more accuracy than the human hand.

It could be said that Zhang Siyang’s and Qiao Jin’s paintings were not even in the same league.

Qiao Jin’s painting was titled *Light*. It was obvious to anyone with half a brain that it was the complete opposite of her previous painting, *Black*.

The technique and method of expression were similar, but the emotions they conveyed were entirely different.

If the previous painting, *Black*, sought to express boundless pain and helplessness, then *Light* was meant to express hope and redemption, just within reach.

Tang Mo didn’t paint this just to win the competition and clear Qiao Jin’s name. She painted it for Qiao Jin herself.

That young girl had lived her entire life in pain and darkness. Even the warmest of families couldn’t pull the poor child out of the abyss.

But with this painting, Tang Mo wanted to tell her that the world wasn’t only pain. Perhaps if you just lifted your head, hope would be waiting not far away. A hope that was so warm. No matter how much pain you’re in now, you are only a step away from happiness. All you have to do is look up to see it.

No one in this world can truly feel another’s pain. The suffering one person experiences cannot be felt by another, no matter how close their relationship.

But art is a universal language. The ideas that humans wish to convey through art can be perceived by those who appreciate it.

And now, the people looking at this painting were feeling those very emotions.

And Tang Mo hoped that Xiao Jin could feel them too.

The reason the principal had been staring at the painting for so long was that he was the only one here who could truly understand the real meaning behind Xiao Jin’s art.

The dark period Qiao Jin experienced when she was seven years old became a lifelong darkness in her heart.

But deep down, the child yearned so much for the light, which gave birth to this painting.

The principal knew a few things about what had happened to Qiao Jin during the last competition.

But at the time, Zhang Siyang had indeed submitted their work long before Qiao Jin submitted hers, so the principal had naturally assumed Qiao Jin was the plagiarist.

Fearing the girl wouldn’t be able to handle the emotional toll, the principal never spoke to her about it privately, worried it would only add to her stress.

That child was stubborn, too. She kept her grievances bottled up inside, never speaking a word of them.

She didn’t tell her family, she didn’t tell her teachers, and she had no friends. She just held it all in, all alone.

The principal felt a surge of guilt. ’The Qiao family’s child... I should have believed her.’

Mr. Qiao Sr. had entrusted the girl to him, and right under his nose, she had suffered such a great injustice. His conscience was stricken!

At this moment, the principal’s heart was filled with guilt, and even more so, with pity for Qiao Jin.

’Thank goodness. Thank goodness this child has now proven her innocence through her art.’

But had she?

The one clearing Qiao Jin’s name was Tang Mo. The real Qiao Jin had died with this matter still weighing on her heart. Even at the moment of her death, it remained an unresolved burden.

”Students, you have seen Qiao Jin’s painting, and you have seen Student Zhang Siyang’s painting. Student Qiao Jin, is there anything you’d like to say?”

Now that he knew the truth, the principal naturally wanted to help Qiao Jin fulfill her wish.

The girl had gone to such lengths just to clarify the truth to everyone; he had to let her have her moment.

Countless pairs of eyes turned toward Tang Mo, their owners’ hearts filled with complex emotions.

The truth was now laid bare before them, and the full story seemed to be on the verge of being revealed.

But before...

As the crowd recalled how they had treated Qiao Jin because of the plagiarism incident, their expressions grew complicated.