Chapter 17: The Butterfly's Return

Feng Yan sat in her room, the silence calming her mind as she gazed at the blank canvas before her. She tapped her fingers gently on the wooden desk, her thoughts drifting to the art submission that was due soon. The art competition was something she had participated in during her previous life, and she remembered the exact piece she had created for it. It was one of her finest works—an intricate landscape that had taken her weeks to complete.

But that was in her past life. This time, she wasn't starting from scratch. She had already lived through this moment once before, and the painting that had taken her so long to create back then was now etched perfectly in her mind. She knew every brushstroke, every detail of the landscape she had envisioned. There was no hesitation in her now—she was confident.

A small smile played on her lips as she picked up the brush. With steady hands, she dipped it into the colors on her palette. The vibrant hues of green and blue spread across the canvas as she began painting the landscape. Her movements were smooth and fluid, as though she had painted this piece a thousand times before. And in a way, she had. 

She painted mountains in the distance, their peaks shrouded in mist, with a river winding gracefully through the valleys below. Trees lined the banks of the river, their leaves painted in varying shades of green and gold, creating a sense of depth and tranquility. The sky above was a soft gradient of blue and lavender, with clouds lazily drifting across it. It was a serene scene, one that invoked a sense of peace and harmony. But there was something more to this painting—something unique that only a few would recognize.

As she worked, her mind wandered back to the pseudonym she had used for years: *Butterfly*. It was a name that carried weight in the art world, a name that had become synonymous with mystery and brilliance. From the age of thirteen, Feng Yan had been painting under that pseudonym, keeping her true identity hidden from everyone, including her adoptive family. 

Her paintings had been auctioned off for millions, admired by collectors and art enthusiasts alike. *Butterfly* was known for her intricate landscapes, her use of color, and her ability to evoke emotion through every stroke of the brush. But there was one element that made her works even more distinctive—each painting carried her hidden pseudonym, subtly worked into the art itself.

The pseudonym wasn't obvious. It was hidden within the details of the painting, visible only to those who knew where to look. Whether it was a small butterfly delicately painted on a leaf, or a swirl in the clouds that resembled wings, the signature was always there. But only the most astute and knowledgeable experts could spot it.

Feng Yan paused for a moment, her brush hovering above the canvas. She smiled faintly as she thought about the countless art critics who had tried to uncover her identity. Many had speculated about who *Butterfly* could be—some thought it was a seasoned artist with decades of experience, while others believed it was a recluse, unwilling to step into the spotlight. No one ever suspected that it could be her—a young girl from an influential but uncaring family.

In her past life, she had been foolish. Despite earning a fortune from her art, she had always funneled the money back to the Feng family, thinking that by doing so, she could buy their love and approval. She had paid her school fees, funded her living expenses, and stayed silent when Feng Yue took her identity and benefits, all without receiving a word of gratitude in return.

But not this time.

This time, she would use her talent for herself. She would no longer be the silent benefactor of the Feng family, the invisible artist behind their success. Feng Yue had always prided herself on her artistic abilities, but the truth was that Feng Yan had been the true talent all along. And soon, everyone would know.

With renewed focus, Feng Yan continued her painting, her brush moving swiftly and confidently across the canvas. She knew every detail, every color choice, and every shadow by heart. The landscape unfolded before her like a memory coming to life, and with each stroke, she felt more in control. This was her art, her creation. No one could take it away from her this time.

As she neared the end of the painting, she added the final touch—a small butterfly, hidden within the leaves of a tree near the edge of the river. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. Her pseudonym, her signature. A reminder of who she truly was: *Butterfly*, the artist whose works had captivated so many.

Satisfied with her work, Feng Yan leaned back in her chair and examined the painting. It was beautiful, just as it had been in her previous life. But this time, it held a deeper meaning for her. It wasn't just a piece of art—it was a symbol of her rebirth, of her newfound strength and determination. She had once been an emotional fool, easily manipulated and used by the Feng family. But not anymore.

This time, she would carve her own path.

Feng Yan carefully set the painting aside to dry and began filling out the submission form for the competition. Her name, Feng Yan, would be listed as the artist, but she knew that the true significance of the painting would reveal itself in time. The art world was still buzzing with speculation about *Butterfly*'s identity, and when this piece was submitted, it would surely catch the attention of the experts. They would see the hidden pseudonym, and they would realize that *Butterfly* had returned.

She smiled to herself as she finished filling out the form. The thought of Feng Yue's reaction when she discovered the truth made Feng Yan's heart flutter with anticipation. Feng Yue had always looked down on her, always believed that she was the superior artist. But once the competition was over, once the truth came to light, that arrogant facade would crumble. Feng Yue would have no choice but to acknowledge Feng Yan's talent—the very talent she had spent years trying to suppress.

As Feng Yan stood up from her desk, a sense of satisfaction washed over her. She had finished her painting in just a few hours, something that had once taken her weeks to complete. It was a testament to how much she had grown, both as an artist and as a person. In her previous life, she had been consumed by the desire for approval, desperate to belong to a family that had never truly cared for her. But now, she understood that her worth wasn't tied to their acceptance.

She was more than just the adopted daughter of the Feng family. She was *Butterfly*, the artist whose works had moved hearts and minds across the world. And soon, everyone would know her name.

With her painting complete and her submission ready, Feng Yan sat by the window, watching the sun dip below the horizon. The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink, much like the colors she had used in her artwork. For the first time in a long while, she felt at peace. She had taken control of her destiny, and nothing could stop her now.

As she gazed out at the fading light, she wondered how Feng Yue would react when she discovered that her "untalented" sister was, in fact, the renowned artist she had idolized for so long. Feng Yue, who had always sought to belittle and control her, would soon find herself humbled by the very person she had looked down upon.

Feng Yan smiled to herself, a cold, determined glint in her eyes. She would no longer be the girl hiding in the shadows. She had been reborn, and this time, she would shine brighter than ever before.

And when the world finally realized who *Butterfly* truly was, there would be no more pretending.