Chapter 314 Teaching Assistant
The entire creative process would be recorded on video, and a separate score would be added for the creative mindset. The judges scored based on what they saw on-site, and those scores got added to the total.
Basically, this competition wasn't just about artistic skills; it was also about how tough you were mentally and how creative you could get. If you were a traditional artist stuck in your ways, you were gonna get left behind.
For a painting and calligraphy competition, this was pretty groundbreaking. It gave participants more room to show off their skills, even though it made things tougher. But it made the whole thing fairer and more transparent. It was a fresh challenge.
This got students from top universities all hyped up. The number of participants was more than double compared to previous years, and a lot of students who missed out were kicking themselves for not signing up.
Adam was a beast at oil painting. His squad of five—three boys and two girls—was famous on campus and got mad props from their mentors.
I'd seen their work. They were seriously skilled. I'd helped them think outside the box before, and they nailed it. As long as they kept their cool and had a solid knowledge base during the competition, they were gonna crush it.
I thought I was done, and it was all on the participants now. But then, Professor Evans, probably not wanting me to chill, threw a new task at me, one I had zero confidence in handling.
Ever since I was a kid, whenever I picked up a paintbrush, everything around me would fade into a silent black-and-white background. Nothing could shake me. Even Professor Evans praised my mental toughness.
So, on October 8th, Professor Evans called me into his office and asked me to train the mental resilience of the five participants, teaching them to overcome their nerves in just two weeks.
I'd been building my mental toughness since I was like three or four, and it took over a decade to get to where I was. Doing this in half a month? No way.
Professor Evans was asking for a miracle.
I couldn't do it!
"Professor Evans, I haven't studied psychology, and I'm not trained to be a teacher. I don't have the professional knowledge or teaching experience for mental resilience training. I'm gonna let you down for sure."
I broke down in tears, hoping Professor Evans would change his mind.
But nope, he slammed his thermos on the table, fuming. "Jane, you're telling me you won't do it? You're not taking me seriously, are you?"
"No, no, no, I wouldn't dare," I stammered, shaking my head and waving my hands like a maniac to show I was totally on board.
"Wouldn't dare? Kids these days have no gratitude. When they need me, they come running eight times a day. But once they make it big, they toss me aside."
His over-the-top act, complete with fake tears, made it clear that if I refused, I'd be the bad guy.
"I don't mean that at all. I'm just thinking about you. If I mess this up, your reputation will take a hit, and people will question your talent selection, right?"
But he wasn't having any of it.
He slammed his hand on the desk, making me jump out of my skin.
When did Professor Evans turn into such a hothead? It was terrifying.
"Let me be clear, if the team doesn't place in the top three, I don't care why—it's all on you. Now, get out and do whatever you need to do."
So, with about ten teachers watching, I left the office, feeling like I'd been hit by a truck.
Professor Evans's office was at the corner, right by the stairs. As I turned the corner, I saw Adam leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, smirking at me.
Great, Adam saw me make a fool of myself!
I looked up at the sky, trying to find some normalcy. The sky was blue, the clouds were white—everything seemed fine.
The only thing off was me.
I couldn't deal with Adam's smug face, so I pretended not to see him and kept walking, ignoring him completely.
Adam didn't get mad; he just followed me at a distance.
Once I stepped outside and breathed in the cool air, I felt a bit better.
Sure, I was still worried, but I kept it to myself.
A group of five or six freshmen, both boys and girls, walked towards me, chatting and laughing.
I had taught them a few classes at Professor Evans's request. We were close in age, so we got along well. When they saw me, they all came over to say hi.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
