Chapter Twenty-Two: Astronomical Price

Inside the exhibition hall, spanning over a thousand square meters, every seat was filled. Those of real status sat at the front, while the rest were seated further back.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the first item up for auction is a porcelain bowl from the Yongle period of the Ming Dynasty. Its luster...”

As the auctioneer’s eloquent narration filled the room, the first piece was brought onto the stage.

Yet when the bidding began, the front rows showed little interest—only two or three people occasionally raised their paddles.

Nearly all of them were there for the final, headline item. Instead, it was the merchants and organizations seated farther back who engaged in a fierce bidding war.

To be honest, at this Wanli auction, any of these treasures would have been a highlight at another event. But everything depends on context. Tonight, they merely played a supporting role.

Ordinarily, this would be disadvantageous for the auction items, but to emphasize the special nature of this event, Wanli’s management had gone to great lengths to gather various rare treasures and elevate the overall quality of the auction.

As each item found a new owner, at last it was time for the centerpiece of the night.

Suddenly, all the lights in the hall were turned on. Amid the whirring of mechanical gears, the twenty-meter-high floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the hall were slowly covered by specially made heavy curtains.

Once all sources of natural light were blocked, the auctioneer took the stage, radiant with excitement.

“I’m sure none of you have come here tonight just because you find me handsome.”

A ripple of good-natured laughter swept through the audience.

The auctioneer’s smile faded.

“As we say in China: ‘The bright moon over the vast sea brings tears to pearls; the warm sun over Lantian gives jade its misty glow.’ We’ve all seen plenty of Lantian jade. I always thought the luminous pearl was a mere legend, or that those fluorescent minerals were all there was to it.”

“But I was wrong—utterly wrong. I should never have doubted the wisdom of our ancestors. Even if a true treasure lies buried for a thousand or ten thousand years, it will one day see the light of day.”

“Now, let us unveil the star of tonight’s auction: the Luminous Pearl—Tear of the Merman.”

A dignified woman in a cheongsam wheeled a small cart onto the stage, upon which rested a jade box.

“Please prepare yourselves,” the auctioneer announced, pressing a remote control.

All the lights in the hall went out at once.

In the darkness, a soft yellow glow suddenly appeared atop the auction platform.

The glow steadily brightened, gentle yet dazzling, casting radiant beams throughout the hall as all eyes gazed upon it.

Not a soul spoke—including the auctioneer. Everyone stared, captivated, at the brilliant speck of light on the stage.

Though it could not illuminate the entire hall, the beauty and awe it inspired were beyond imagination.

After thirty seconds, the lights came back on, and the luminous pearl returned to its ordinary, crystalline luster.

The auctioneer drew a deep breath.

“Tear of the Merman, with a starting price of one hundred million yuan. The auction begins.”

For a full minute, no one placed a bid, but the auctioneer showed no sign of embarrassment.

“One hundred million,” a voice called from the corner, rousing the audience from their reverie.

“One hundred and fifty million,” someone in the center quickly raised the stakes.

“Hundred and eighty million,” came a defiant call from the other side.

...

When the price reached six hundred million, the voices from the middle and back rows began to falter.

“Seven hundred million.” At last, someone in the front row, until now silent, joined the fray.

The bidding war escalated, making Wu You, seated in the front corner, feel his heart tighten with anxiety.

A translator raised his paddle. “Two point five billion.”

A decisive blow!

Mohammed finally made his move, jumping the bid from one and a half billion straight to two and a half billion, his determination unmistakable.

In the front row to the left, Fan Zhengxing and Yang Zhangcheng exchanged glances and set down their paddles, which they had been about to raise, with resignation.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t afford to go higher, but it was pointless; if anyone dared bid two point six billion, Mohammed would simply crush them with three billion or more.

As the gavel fell, the Luminous Pearl was claimed by the Saudi prince Mohammed, as everyone had expected.

This was a gemstone, not a cultural relic, and thus faced no export restrictions.

...

With the auction concluded, many hurried off to the airport. Aside from a few who stayed to see the sights of Qiantang, most had achieved their goal: to witness the splendor of the treasure.

Wu You had never seen such a grand occasion in his life; he had to admit, the impact on his soul was profound.

But a far greater shock awaited him.

When his phone notified him of the deposit—two point three billion after tax—Wu You was momentarily stunned.

Although, at a certain point, money becomes just numbers, seeing such a string of zeroes in his account was still exhilarating.

Fortunately, his heart had grown strong enough from recent trials—otherwise, this novel might have ended at chapter twenty-two.

...

Driving home, Bai Yanxi, rarely in a teasing mood, couldn’t help but comment.

“Wu, my boy, are you sure those old bricks in your family’s cottage aren’t made of gold?”

Hands on the steering wheel, humming a tune, Wu You laughed and replied to the old man, “Come now, Elder Bai, don’t make fun of me. My hands are still shaking.”

“I’m just luckier than most, but don’t be too surprised—you might see something even more amazing in the future.”

Bai Yanxi mused, “In that case, I’d better live a long life, just to see it all.”

When a person’s prospects improve, hope follows. Bai Yanxi now even wondered if he might live to see his grandson, Little Hu, again.

...

That evening, in the garden of a luxury villa within the Kyoto inner ring.

Li Shengyao, seething with anger, shouted into his phone, “What! You couldn’t get him? What did you promise me before? Are you trying to keep him from treating the old man? Don’t think I don’t know about the trouble you’ve caused him in the past!”

On the other end, Hou Li dabbed sweat from his brow with a tissue.

“General Li, I had already convinced Bai Yanxi, but someone intercepted him midway.”

Hou Li switched the phone to his other ear. “I tried to stop them, even gave chase, but they were extremely aggressive—smashed my car, too. But don’t worry, I’ve taken down the license plate number. We’ll have the culprit soon enough.”

Li Shengyao loosened a shirt button.

“I’m warning you—this time, do it right. This is a society ruled by law, so put away your dirty tricks.”

He hung up without waiting for Hou Li’s response.

As he turned to go inside, he noticed a wheelchair at the door. The elderly man seated there looked frail but spirited, an attendant holding his IV stand.

“Dad, why are you out here? It’s chilly, let’s get you inside,” Li Shengyao hurried over to push the wheelchair.

Though it was summer, the old man wore a woolen cardigan. He waved his hand dismissively.

“Shengyao, there’s no need to fuss. Fate cannot be defied. My leg’s been injured for decades, and only now has it finally given out. What is there to complain about?”

“Don’t say that, Father. Where there’s hope, there’s a way. Come, let me take you inside.”

Li Shengyao hadn’t told Li Hongguang that the last examination had also revealed bone cancer. According to the experts, the old man had less than a year left to enjoy his twilight years.

...

Hou Li stared at his phone, now showing the call had ended, thinking back to that terrifying bodyguard from the other afternoon.