Chapter 31: Who Can Take What She Wants?
Sheng Ting was well acquainted with Shen Chaoxi’s temperament.
The things she wanted—who could wrest them from her?
This supreme commander of the First Military District was someone even Sheng Ting might not be able to defeat.
One must never be fooled by Shen Chaoxi’s pale, sickly visage.
Her skills were far beyond ordinary.
At the dazzlingly lit cocktail party—
When that figure clad in pure white appeared, it seemed as if cold moonlight cloaked her, lending her an ethereal mist-like aura.
Everyone present was momentarily stunned.
They marveled at her exquisite face.
Yet it was unfamiliar, and no one could immediately guess her identity.
At least, among the elite circles of the capital, none of the young ladies recognized her.
“Who is she?”
“I don’t know—I’ve never seen her before.”
Curiosity sparked among the wealthy heiresses attending the party; all eyes converged on the girl.
Yet none could place her.
Among the capital’s high society, not a single person had ever met Shen Xin.
“I think—seventy million, and she can produce it just like that. Her background must be extraordinary!”
Whispers began to ripple through the crowd.
“Exactly. Look at her clothes, her looks, her bearing—she must be the heiress of some powerful family.”
This much, they all agreed on.
After all, this girl who had appeared so suddenly—her beauty, her air—were rare even in the capital.
Her pure white evening gown was clearly of great value.
“This young lady bids seventy million. Is there a higher offer?”
“Wait—that’s—!”
Jiang Buyan, observing, was taken aback for a moment as he recognized the girl’s familiar face and suddenly remembered something.
“Isn’t that the girl we just rescued?”
“How could it be! Is she here for the auction as well?”
Jiang Buyan was utterly stunned.
Moments ago, he had suspected the girl’s intentions.
That she’d approached them deliberately.
After all, such things happened frequently in the capital.
Wherever Lu Yunzhou and Feng Chenxin were, women—and their intrigues—were never far behind.
Someone was always drawn in.
So, though he hadn’t voiced it, Jiang Buyan had always known that many women sought him for his wealth, for the immense power and fortune of the Jiang family.
Now, it seemed, perhaps what had happened earlier was mere coincidence.
This girl was not as he had imagined.
She’d simply come to attend the cocktail party, been targeted and bullied at the Imperial View Club, and then the group—by accident—had spilled their wine.
He’d been too suspicious.
“Seventy-one million.”
Suddenly, a soft, low voice drifted down from upstairs, Shen Xin’s brows knitting.
Who could it be?
She had already pushed the bid to seventy million—yet someone still dared to compete.
Originally, Shen Xin’s call of seventy million was meant to ensure no one present could contend with her.
But unexpectedly, someone else stepped forward, offering seventy-one million.
Just one million above her bid—clearly a deliberate provocation.
The lighting upstairs was dim; the girl’s face was obscured. Only the silhouette of a pure black gown was visible, snowy skin and slender fingers lightly resting against the glass railing, her gaze meeting Shen Xin’s.
A delicate black swan mask concealed the pale visage, revealing only a pair of cool, almond-shaped eyes, which seemed to gaze at everyone with deep affection, lips curved in a faint smile.
She was looking at Shen Xin.
Shen Xin frowned, locking eyes with the mysterious girl above, yet unable to place her.
She could only grit her teeth inwardly and continue bidding.
This half Western Zhou scroll—her grandfather’s long-sought treasure.
She had to win it.
“Seventy-five million.” Unable to do otherwise, Shen Xin raised her bid.
“Seventy-six million.” The girl upstairs smiled faintly, her voice languid, her black backless gown and loose hair giving her an impression of delicate coldness, mystique, and noble allure.
Perhaps it was her skin—so pale that even under dim lights her alluring collarbones and slender fingers seemed to glow, tapping gently against the glass.
Shen Xin’s brows furrowed in anger as she looked at the girl, eyes clouded with irritation and confusion.
At first, everyone had assumed this half Western Zhou scroll would fall to Shen Xin.
But the moment she raised her bid, the mysterious figure upstairs responded, each time adding just one million.
Once could be coincidence.
But again and again, only a million more each time—it was clearly targeted.
Now all eyes turned toward the black-clad silhouette above.
Who was she?
A battle of the immortals.
Most were content to keep their distance.
If the price kept rising, it would surpass what ordinary people could bear.
This, too, was unexpected for Shen Xin.
She had not anticipated competition for the Western Zhou chess manual, and her expression darkened as she bit her lip.
“Eighty million.”
This was all she could muster.
After all, eighty million was no trifling sum.
At an auction, the greatest fear was someone artificially driving up the price.
Turning something that could have been purchased at a reasonable amount into a “priceless treasure.”
That would be money wasted—a fool’s errand.
“One hundred million.”
Suddenly, a calm voice sounded from above. The girl in the black gown stood by the glass railing, masked, gazing down at the crowd.
Her face was hidden.
Her icy, silent eyes fixed on the pure white figure below, her expression unfriendly.
Shen Xin looked up, brows knitted.
The girl’s lips curled into a smile, her almond eyes gleaming with challenge as she locked eyes with Shen Xin.
The atmosphere at the auction became tense!
Pressure mounted.
Jiang Buyan was feeling the strain.
“Who is she?”
This girl had just pushed the bid to a hundred million!
If before, her incremental millions had gone unnoticed, now her sudden leap stunned everyone.
“Did I hear right?”
“This young lady just bid one hundred million!”
Even the host was excited.
In the VIP suite, a man sat on the sofa, his aura cold and noble, his exquisite black suit failing to conceal his perfect physique, long legs crossed, his demeanor aloof.
His eyes flickered with shifting emotions, as if contemplating something. When the girl raised the price of the chess scroll to one hundred million, he too looked up, gazing at the glass balcony above.
A hundred million—no small sum.
After all, it was a charity auction: acquiring a desired item while doing good was commendable.
But spending a hundred million just to obtain half a Western Zhou chess manual was, in some ways, extravagant.
The manual, though an ancient artifact with collectible value, only reached its true worth if paired with its other half.
Otherwise, it lost its highest value.
Moreover, this half-finished manual had yet to be authenticated.
Lu Yunzhou sat steady, his eyes dark, lips pressed tight, brows lifting slightly.
There was a hint of imperial disdain as he looked toward the glass railing, where the black-gowned girl lounged, sipping her red wine with lazy ease.
Hearing the bid of one hundred million, Shen Xin frowned, her expression visibly changing.
A hundred million was far beyond her reach.
This person was blatantly competing with her—Shen Xin couldn’t help but wonder, who was this girl?
Jiang Buyan joined in, eager for gossip.
“No way, Second Brother, is this half-finished chess manual really worth that much?”
Perhaps he should try to bid for it.
He hadn’t made a move; firstly, he had no interest in antiquities.
Secondly, seeing Shen Xin there, and realizing his earlier misunderstanding of her, he decided not to compete for what she wanted.
Yet unexpectedly, another bidder had appeared at the auction.
Competing against her.
Fighting for this half chess manual.
Lu Yunzhou’s eyes were deep; he remained silent.
Regarding the auction—
If someone truly desired something, its value rose accordingly.
But this seemed more a contest—a deliberate escalation by the girl upstairs.
The mysterious bidder never revealed her face.
And with the party’s rules, many wore masks.
Unless accompanied by acquaintances, recognition was rare.