Chapter 112
“Howell, you’re here. We’ve been waiting for your scores Eden and the other judges greeted him warmly.
They had been at the front, so they hadn’t caught Howell’s conversation with Flom. Nor did they recognize Flora, casting curious glances her way. They didn’t even know why Howell had brought her along.
Howell retumed to his seat and picked up the microphone, but suddenly, he handed it to Flora.
Flora took the microphone. “I have a question for contestant number 45. Her clear voice echoed throughout the venue.
Yvonne’s expression darkened slightly, assuming Flor was there to embarrass her on purpose. She wished she could hurl the microphone at her but restrained herself due to the public setting, maintaining a smile, “Go ahead.”
“What was the Inspiration behind your creation?”
Yvonne had prepared extensively for the competition, researching a vast amount of information as soon as she received the design sketch. She was ready for such a question from the judges.
She answered fluently. “To honor my heritage, to fly high like an eagle in service of my country..”
Her passionate speech lasted a minute and a half, and the audience responded with vigorous applause.
Flora smiled, twirling the microphone in her hand, “And do you believe your designs are excellent?”
“Well… It wouldn’t be modest of me to say,” Yvonne replied shyly, then added more confidently. “To every designer, their drafts are like their children, perhaps not perfect, but in their eyes, the most outstanding.”
“Even if the child was stolen?”
“What do you mean by that?” Yvonne’s eyelids twitched.
“Your so–called design is just my discarded drafts. I’m surprised my discarded drafts could receive such high praise from you.”
The revelation caused an uproar. The hall went silent for a moment before erupting into chaos.
Online, the live stream viewers were frantically commenting.
[Drama Drama! Get your popcorn and drinks!]
[Who is this girl? She is so bold?]
[This seems a bit much. Who can claim their discards could easily enter a national contest?)
The majority were skeptical of Flora’s claim. After all, she was relatively unknown, whereas Yvonne was celebrated as a prodigious talent
Yvonne’s smile froze, and her heart tightened.
Flora claimed the drafts were hers!
How’s this possible!
It couldn’t be such a coincidence that the designs were Flora’s. If Flora truly had such talent, why wouldn’t she compete herself?
“Flora, think before you speak. You’re accusing me of stealing your drafts. Do you have proof? Without it, you’re just spreading rumors.” Yvonne maintained her composure, projecting an image of being greatly wronged.
“So, this is a personal vendetta?”
The audience realized there had been previous conflicts between the two. Their looks towards Flora turned disdainful.
“She’s such a pretty girl but is acting so thoughtlessly someone in the audience scoffed.
Another agreed, “You don’t get it. She just wants attention. She thinks the world should revolve around her because she’s pretty!”
Despite the judgmental stares and criticisms from all sides, Flora remained expressionless, as if none of it mattered to her
Howell’s expression was dark as the bottom of a pan, his gaze sharp as a blade towards Yvonne on stage.
Is that so, Yvonne? Huh? Okay.
After today, she could forget about continuing in the fashion industry.
He shuddered at the thought that he had once considered inviting Yvonne to Rose’s design team.
“Yvonne, I’ll give you one chance to admit to plagiarism. Otherwise, the consequences will be more than you can bear.”
Flora’s voice was soft but carried throughout the venue. Her hand holding the microphone was pale, and the veins were visible under the
skin
The light and shadow played across her eyelashes, adding a coldness to her demeanor
1/2
She had created the designs, but representatives from the National Design Institute had been pestering her. Unable to refuse any longer she had licensed the designs to them.
Yvonne plagiarized from the National Design Institute. She was really asking for trouble.