Resurrected: Unveiling the Mystery of Telepathy

I am a rising star in the art world, but I was subjected to online harassment due to accusations of plagiarism.

Every time I finished a new piece, my boyfriend's "ideal woman" would release an identical painting the very next moment.

She portrayed herself as an acclaimed and talented artist, manipulating public opinion and causing my entire family to be harassed online.

Behind the scenes, she ordered me to keep creating.

I was cornered and beaten to death when I went out.

My parents were left in a daze, driven to severe depression by the online abuse, and their health deteriorated.

In my final moments, I was filled with regret, wanting to understand what had happened.

When I woke up again, I found myself back on the day before I released my work.

"Xiaoyi, it's so late. You should go to bed," my mom said, bringing a glass of milk to my side, her eyes full of worry.

Had I been reborn?

My hand shook uncontrollably, and red paint smeared across the eyes of the half-naked woman in my painting, as if someone had covered her eyes, preventing her from seeing the truth.

Just like me.

My mom, an art teacher, nodded in satisfaction and praised, "That's my daughter, always so bold and ahead of her time with her creations."

The youth competition was in five days, and she reminded me to submit my work before then.

I let out a long sigh of relief.

In my previous life, I submitted my work at noon, but I didn't expect my boyfriend's ideal woman, Emma, to release hers half an hour earlier.

Everyone noticed our identical works, and during the voting phase, they left comments.

The title of art prodigy was completely erased, and everyone flocked to my Instagram and Twitter, leaving messages telling me to die, get into a car accident, and even found my parents' information, demanding the education bureau stop them from teaching.

They claimed, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

"

I explained repeatedly, posting my creative process and video blogs online, trying to prove my innocence through the timeline.

But she released an identical creative sequence.

My classmates defended me, but no one believed them.

Thinking of this, my heart tightened, and I decided to check Emma's Twitter.

I found that she had blocked me.

Was this a guilty conscience?

She even blocked me on Instagram, making her posts invisible to me.

I created a small account and finally saw her updates.

Her painting had been professionally edited to appear blurry.

But I knew she had painted a half-naked goddess, with the same red streak over the eyes.

How could this be?

I created it with a new canvas and fresh paint, untouched by anyone else.

How could it be identical? The most liked comment on Twitter was from Ethan, calling her a goddess.

In the replies, people were eagerly waiting for their sweet moments, saying they were a perfect match.

In my previous life, I was so immersed in the art world that I never doubted Ethan's sincerity.

I naively believed we would be together.

I never expected that after the plagiarism incident, he would defend Emma at every turn, harshly criticizing me and abruptly breaking up with me.

Now, I was disheartened and saw him for who he truly was.

I still couldn't understand how two unrelated people could create identical works.

Was this reasonable?

I couldn't figure it out and sat in front of the canvas for a long time.

Until my mom urged me again, advising me to sleep.

I agreed on the surface, backed up the photos on my computer and phone, and then, with a determined heart, painted over the goddess entirely in black.

I still had five days. With my skills, I could easily create another piece.

I wanted to see what she would do next.

From a young age, I was deeply influenced by my family and developed a strong passion for art.

My mother recognized my talent and spent a fortune to send me to the nation's top art academy for training.

As a result, I won numerous teen art competitions.

If I could win the championship in this competition, I would be directly admitted to the renowned Visionary Art University, paving the way for my master's and doctoral studies.

Therefore, this award means the world to me.

After much contemplation, I realized I needed to find a way to prove myself.

Lugging my heavy easel and display board, I headed to the studio.

There were over forty students there, surely they could witness my creative process.

At the very least, no one could accuse me of plagiarism again.

During the creation process, my classmates gathered around me.

"Kendra, your sense of color is amazing! You managed to give the green lake such depth!"

"Yeah, I think you're definitely going to win this competition and bring glory to our studio!" Listening to their praises, I couldn't help but feel a bit giddy.

But then I thought of Emma and quickly calmed down.

In my previous life, after the incident, my classmates spoke up for me. Some even took out my past works for comparison, proving that both the color sense and brushstrokes were mine.

The matter caused quite a stir, even attracting the attention of prominent figures in the art world who studied and compared the works, standing up for me.

But no one believed them.

Emma not only accused me of plagiarism but also acted like the victim, threatening suicide and claiming she couldn't live anymore.

Her tear-streaked face was all over the live stream, with fresh red marks on her wrists.

Ethan was heartbroken and took care of her in the hospital for three days and nights.

After she was discharged, he accused me, demanding an apology as her boyfriend and asking for proof that I didn't plagiarize.

I argued my case, but all I received were insults and abuse.

Emma's paid trolls and her obsessed fans dug up all my information, hurling eggs and rotten vegetables at my door daily.

It affected my parents' work, forcing them to leave their school and stop teaching.

When I went out, they cornered me in a back alley, stole my phone, and threw bricks at me, preventing me from calling the police.

I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience, seeing my parents grow old and depressed, dying of heartbreak.

My brother was forced to drop out of school due to online harassment and ended up living on the streets.

Remembering the past tragedies, my heart ached.

I had to get to the bottom of this and prevent the tragedy from happening again! My brush moved swiftly, as if guided by some divine force. The more I painted, the smoother it felt.

With my classmates as witnesses, I finished the painting in one sitting, not even taking a moment to admire it before quickly uploading it to the art competition's official website. I didn't dare delay for even a minute.

Even if we were telepathically linked and painted the same work, she couldn't upload it at the exact same time as me, right?

Especially with so many classmates witnessing it.

But I was too naive.

As I happily browsed through the competition entries on the website, my smile froze instantly, too shocked to speak.

Emma had uploaded her painting at the exact same time and in the same manner as I did! Even the seconds matched perfectly! What was going on?!

Not only was I stunned, but my classmates were also taken aback.

They whispered to each other.

"No way, can they share brainwaves?

The paintings are identical!" "That's impossible, someone must have plagiarized!"

I thought about switching to my other account and opened her Twitter.

Emma had posted a tearful selfie, looking tearful.

"My hard work can't be replicated by others."

Instantly, netizens flooded her comments with sympathy.

Some even took screenshots from the voting area, threatening to conduct a technical comparison of our works.

She was the classic delicate beauty, naturally evoking a protective instinct.

A brilliant and beautiful writer, who wouldn't be moved by her?

I sighed helplessly and switched back to my main account.

In just five minutes, my comment section was overrun by her mindless fans.

"Wow, so you're the plagiarist dog? All these years of art competitions, you won by copying?" "I'm a professional art student. I just want to know how you managed to keep the colors consistent."

Yeah, I wanted to know too, how did Emma manage to do it?

As I continued scrolling, I saw mean memes of me, even black-and-white photos of me as if I were dead.

"You just want fame, right? I'll help you out. Tonight, I'll come to your house and mess you up."

The insults and threats made me tremble. I had no choice but to turn off my phone and stare blankly at my easel.

It couldn't be, how could this happen?

Did she somehow plant a chip in my brain?

I quickly shook my head, trying to shake off this unrealistic thought.

I even used my phone's flashlight to search for hidden cameras, but found nothing.

It was like a mystery that lingered in my heart, refusing to go away.

My classmates behind me looked at me with concern. "Kendra, we all saw it with our own eyes. If there's any dispute, we'll all testify for you!" A warmth spread through my heart.

But thinking about the cyberbullying, I didn't want to drag them into it.

For a moment, I even considered withdrawing from the competition.

Maybe if I quit, there wouldn't be so much trouble.

My parents and brother wouldn't get hurt because of me.

Just as I was thinking this, my phone suddenly rang.

It was Ethan.

"It's my birthday tonight. Bring a gift and come over. All my buddies are here. Don't embarrass me!"

There was a lot of noise on the other end, making it hard to hear clearly.

"Hey, Ethan, who are you calling?" It was Emma.

In my previous life, they had celebrated his birthday, but I was preoccupied with the competition and didn't attend.

Of course, Ethan got drunk, made a scene, and tore up my painting. "You're just a lousy artist. Why are you acting so high and mighty?" "Do you think you can compare to Emma?"

Because he tore up my painting, I almost missed the submission deadline.

My eyelid twitched, and I decided to attend the party.

It's just a birthday party, after all.

I put on a stunning bodycon dress and did my makeup in the latest trendy Asian style, completely different from Emma's look.

When Ethan saw me, he was momentarily stunned.

"Why did you come looking like this? Where's my gift?"

At the table sat his four buddies, and Emma was practically glued to Ethan's side.

"Just being here is the best gift I could give you. What more do you want?"

Kristopher, one of the guys, burst out laughing.

Ethan's face turned visibly awkward, and he turned away with a huff.

"You're amazing, girl. I can't even do makeup!"

Emma looked at me with innocent eyes, but her words were full of mockery.

I wanted to tear that mouth of hers apart, but I didn't indulge her.

"You've got foundation, eyebrows, eyeshadow, and lipstick, but still look like this?"

Her face turned red with anger, and she glared at me fiercely.

Ethan grumbled, "What are you talking about?

Emma has always been naturally gorgeous and never relied on those external things. I can't believe you're accusing her like this."

The two of them were so in sync that anyone would think they were the couple.

Logic told me I should leave, but I stubbornly sat down under everyone's gaze.

I didn't have her private contact information, and this was my only chance to get close to Emma.

After a few rounds of drinks, everyone was clearly tipsy.

Ethan was even more out of it, protecting Emma from drinking too much while ignoring me, his girlfriend.

The crowd egged them on to kiss.

Emma blushed and said shyly, "What are you guys talking about? Sis is still sitting here!"

The guy who had been egging them on quickly sobered up, patted his head, and apologized to me.

"Sis, it's not my fault. Ethan is just too protective of her..." I smiled and nodded, not blaming him, but instead, I looked coldly at Ethan.

Emma took the opportunity to grab my hand tightly.

"Sis, I heard you're into art too. Are you participating in the art competition?" "I am, but someone plagiarized my work. I wish I could catch them right now."

Emma looked at me with a challenging smile, her eyes full of provocation.

I understood perfectly-she was declaring war, trying to make me back down.

The competition had preliminary and semi-final rounds, with national live broadcasts and international judges evaluating the artworks.

The preliminary round was over, and the semi-finals were about to begin.

Emma had studied painting, but her skills were far below mine.

If I withdrew, she would undoubtedly win the scholarship for the combined master's and doctoral program.

In that moment, my competitive spirit ignited, and the thought of quitting vanished completely.

I smiled lightly.

"I also entered the competition. Coincidentally, someone released a work identical to mine. I'm just worried about not having evidence to sue them." "If I catch them, I'll make sure they face serious consequences."

Emma's face changed, and Ethan's previously dazed eyes suddenly became clear. He swallowed awkwardly.

I took the opportunity to add her contact information.

The meal was unappetizing, and I observed Emma openly and secretly.

We didn't look alike at all and had no similarities.

How did she manage to create an identical piece of art to mine?

During the meal, Emma casually mentioned the art exhibition, encouraging her friends to follow her on Instagram.

They scrolled through the comments and messages.

Suddenly, the guy who had egged them on earlier voiced a question.

"Wait a minute, Emma and Kendra's paintings are the same?" "So they..."