Chapter 336:

Zyair recounted, “It was a funny story, actually. When I was a kid, my parents were set on turning me into a renowned artist, so they sent me to Mr. Morales’ place to learn painting.

However, he had me painting eggs for weeks, and then abruptly sent me home. Mr. Morales was straightforward when he spoke to my parents.

He told them, ‘Your child couldn’t draw a perfect egg even if he had a century to try. It’s best he pursues something other than art.’ He was quite harsh, effectively dashing my parents’ dreams of me becoming an artist.

He even declared that my time with him wasn’t a real apprenticeship, making it clear that I was no disciple of his.”

Before Zyair could go on, Marissa playfully teased him, “Those eggs you painted were nowhere near perfect. Mr. Morales wasn’t wrong, you know. Hahaha!”

Zyair protested, “Hey, stop laughing at me!”

Your story hub is gⱯlnσν?ℓs․???

guilty for his sternness, Mr. Morales suggested I learn martial arts, noting my build. Soon after, my parents had me training

parents trusted Mr. Morales a bit too much. But that shift led me

Morales really knew how to spot potential.

told me I couldn’t draw a perfect egg even in one

would often furiously sketch eggs on paper only to rip them up moments later. Initially,

throwing a fit won’t make

up! You infuriate me just like Mr. Morales did. It’s no wonder he thought so highly

said, “Oh, come on, don’t get upset! Remember, constructive criticism is

to me. It was something he texted me

Marissa inquired, “What did that text

The screenshot displayed a

table outside Ritchie’s thatched hut, intently sketching eggs that filled the entire page. Beneath the photo, Ritchie said, “Still hung up on that old critique? Let me show

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