Married First, Loved Later : A Flash Marriage with My Ex's 'Uncle' Chapter 558: The Reveal

The room fell silent again after her words.

Then, the Country M contestants were the first to react.

The nineteen-year-old girl who had taken sixth place stood up and said loudly:

"Since this competition is unfair, and since Country Y is determined never to award the championship to a Country M contestant no matter their skill, as long as Country Y refuses to acknowledge it, then a Country M contestant will never be champion.

A competition like this is beneath ! If Country Y insists on ruling the perfu world with one voice, crushing any talent from other nations, then I, too, withdraw from this contest!"

Imdiately, the others followed her lead.

In less than two minutes, all eight Country M contestants who had placed in the top ten announced their withdrawal, leaving behind a humiliating scene—

The top ten now had only ninth and tenth place remaining.

What aning did the contest have then? How was this any different from a perfu tournant held solely within Country Y?

The contestant who had taken ninth hesitated for a long mont before speaking: "Mr. Ronald, we feel... if you suspect Miss Clark of cheating, then you should at least have evidence. To strip her of her title simply because she is from Country M—this doesn’t seem right..."

The tenth-place contestant also nodded. He was proud, but not stupid. If Selina truly had won the championship, then it ant Country Y’s perfurs had been outmatched. Why couldn’t they admit it?

Ronald was practically choking with fury at this group!

Selina asked slowly, "I’m curious, Mr. Ronald—why are you so certain I couldn’t have won the championship?"

Ronald snapped back without hesitation, "I’ve said it already—because you’re an amateur perfur! How could you possibly compare to soone like Frank, who has studied from childhood and spent endless hours in perfu houses honing his craft?"

Selina cast him a sidelong glance. "So what exactly are you implying, Mr. Ronald?"

Ronald lifted his chin high. "I suspect soone swapped your perfu with Frank’s. That’s the only reason you beca the champion!"

Selina understood, a light laugh escaping her lips. "So you an... that perfu, the one labeled as Number Seven, was actually Frank’s? And Frank, do you believe that as well?"

Frank hesitated at first.

But then he decided his teacher must be right. He was the son of nobility, praised as a prodigy in perfury since childhood. And with Ronald as his ntor, he had always believed he was one of the best perfurs in the world, second only to Piper and Ronald himself.

How could soone like Selina dare to compete with him?

So, after only a mont of hesitation, Frank straightened with arrogance.

"Of course! The Number Seven perfu was mine, but it was credited under your na! I know about your connection to Mr. Reid—Logan must have helped you. If you apologize now and admit your mistake, I might even overlook it!"

That explanation almost sounded plausible. If Selina really had used Logan’s influence to cheat and steal the title that should have belonged to Frank, then Frank and Ronald’s outrage could be justified.

Everyone turned to Selina, waiting for her response.

But Selina only chuckled softly.

Today, she had originally planned to deal with Ronald and Paula—expose Ronald’s lies and force Paula to honor the bet.

She hadn’t expected Frank to co charging out too.

She had looked into Ronald’s background, and naturally also dug into Frank’s. He was the son of nobility, with little real talent for perfury, but thanks to his highborn status, he was constantly surrounded by flatterers.

Most people, when hearing empty complints, would just let them pass.

But Frank was different. He held himself in such high esteem that he never believed others were rely flattering him. He convinced himself that every word of praise was owed to his "talent," not his lineage.

So yes—he probably did truly believe that he was exceptionally gifted and that winning the championship was a given.

Selina: "..."

Locking eyes with Frank, Selina kept her face expressionless.

"Since Mr. Frank insists, then let’s make the nas public."

"You claim that my perfu was swapped with yours—then let’s reveal the nas and let everyone see which bottle was ’originally’ mine."

Logan gave a small laugh. "And what does Mr. Ronald think?"

Ronald gave a cold snort. "Reveal them!"

Quickly, each of the fifty numbers was matched with a na.

Selina was Number Seven.

But Frank had insisted Number Seven was his, and hers should have been his.

The na beside Frank was listed as Number Twenty-Six.

Number Twenty-Six—the bottle that had originally scored 8.6, only to be downgraded to 7.9 after three rounds of judging!

Seeing this, Frank broke into a confident smile.

"I knew it. Selina, you really did swap our perfus! A 7.9 could never belong to . Such a drastic change between scoring rounds ans the base note wasn’t clear or stable enough.

That’s not a mistake a professional perfur would ever make. Out of all fifty contestants, only you aren’t a professional. What else can you say for yourself?"

It was true: out of fifty perfus, only Number Twenty-Six had been rescored.

The reason—its base note wasn’t clear, the scent too jumbled.

A true perfur would almost never make such an error. A perfu without a dominant note ant every elent blended equally, too even, too ssy.

A 7.9 wasn’t a bad score—it was mid-tier—but compared to the winning 9.9, the gap was enormous.

Selina’s smile never reached her eyes.

"Is that so? Then here’s what we’ll do: we’ll both write down our formulas. Then we’ll match them with Perfus Number Seven and Twenty-Six. That way, we’ll see exactly which bottle belongs to whom.

Mr. Frank, do you dare?"

Ronald’s brows knit together. Sothing suddenly felt off.

Why was Selina so confident?

But Frank didn’t think twice before agreeing.

"Why wouldn’t I dare?"

He snatched up a pen and began scribbling furiously.

Selina curved her lips and started writing too.

They didn’t need to reveal the full formulas—just list the main accords and secondary notes. Even in rough form, the judges would instantly know whose perfu was whose.

As she wrote, Selina couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

So much for the so-called "Nation of Perfu"...

To her, Country Y’s perfu industry was rotten at the core.

She believed most of Country Y’s perfurs were earnest, devoted artisans like the ninth- and tenth-place winners—true lovers of the craft, genuine learners.

But the ones in control of the nation’s most crucial resources?

One was a serial liar and plagiarist.

The other, an arrogant heir who believed himself the arbiter of every other perfur’s fate.

With a sigh, Selina finished writing.

Frank also set down his pen, lifting his chin with arrogant pride.

"Miss Clark, I’ll give you the courtesy—why don’t you reveal yours first?"

Selina raised her gaze, her voice cool.

"No. You go first."