Can't Be Compared, Ji Qingwei Puked Blood (2)

Confronting a clash of embroideries was hardly daunting; the real discomfort arises when one's work was notably inferior.

Especially when two pieces were juxtaposed, the contrast becomes strikingly evident: one embodies both form and spirit, while the other, though visually present, lacks any semblance of soul.

This realization dawned on Gu Huiyan as he reflected on Ji Qingwei's embroidery, pinpointing the unsettling aspect he couldn't previously identify—it resembled a mere imitation.

Though aesthetically pleasing, it was devoid of any true essence.

The middle-aged man, observing the shifts in Gu Huiyan's expression, voiced his confusion, "Director?"

Could it be that Miss Si's embroidery was so exceptional that it startled Gu Huiyan?