Chapter Eleven: Laying a Veil of Suspicion

In the silence of the auction hall, Dong Chen spoke up: “It is said that the original owner of this bracelet was greatly favored by the emperor, which is how she came to possess this precious imperial jade. Only the finest craftsmen were employed to polish it into this gemstone. Because it was so valuable, even the imperial consort herself rarely wore it…”

He seemed not to have heard Bai Yu’s earlier words. As the atmosphere grew tense, he went on with his detailed introduction as if nothing had happened.

It had to be said, Dong Chen’s move was masterful.

Indeed, there were those at the auction who feared the Bai family, but there were just as many who did not care. The price, stalled at two hundred thousand for barely a minute, began to rise again.

A voice, hoarse and seasoned, broke the quiet: “My apologies, Young Master Bai, but I intend to give this bracelet as a gift as well.”

Had Dong Chen not spoken earlier, perhaps the others present would have shown Bai Yu some courtesy, allowing him to obtain the bracelet unchallenged. But now, with the bracelet elevated as a token of imperial favor, pride alone spurred many of the wealthy attendees to join the bidding, if only for the sake of appearances.

Thus, the price of the bracelet continued to climb.

Bai Yu’s expression darkened; he had never found himself in such an awkward position before.

Zhao Fan shook his head. Bai Yu’s arrogance was entirely misplaced—did he not see who was present? Did he really think his word alone would sway them?

Yang Yuqing whispered, “Bai Yu, the bracelet isn’t worth the price it’s at now. Let it go and sit down.” The meaning behind a bracelet representing one’s beloved was clear to Yang Yuqing, and her tone had grown cold and reluctant.

Bai Yu noticed, and assumed Yang Yuqing looked down on him. Frustrated, he continued to bid.

Was he, Bai Yu, here just to entertain the crowd?

And so, amidst the various motivations in the room, the price of the bracelet soared.

Zhao Fan’s eyes flashed with a trace of emotion. Was it any wonder that those attending such auctions already possessed such wealth? To them, money was but a number—hardly worth counting.

He wanted to make money. He wanted to stand among these people as an equal. No—he wanted to surpass them all, to make the name “Zhao Fan” one revered by everyone.

Clenching his fist in silent resolve, Zhao Fan pushed aside these thoughts and brought his focus back to the auction.

In the end, the bracelet was claimed by Bai Yu for five hundred thousand. With Dong Chen’s final gavel strike, the auction for the bracelet concluded.

Throughout, Zhao Fan had remained silent, uninterested in Bai Yu’s drama. He was fixed on the auction catalog, waiting for the Song Dynasty-style “Listening Wind” porcelain vase he intended to bid on.

Once the bracelet was delivered to Bai Yu, and before the next item was presented, Bai Yu, in front of everyone, signaled the attendant to hand him the bracelet.

The attendant hesitated, glancing at Dong Chen, who offered a slight, almost imperceptible nod. It was intermission, after all—an ideal time to observe what would happen next.

As the Bai family’s young master, Bai Yu was owed a modicum of respect.

Seeing this, the attendant carried the tray to Bai Yu.

“Yuqing,” Bai Yu called out, his voice full of emotion. “As I said, this bracelet is for my beloved. Yuqing, will you accept it?”

Yang Yuqing’s heart skipped a beat. “Bai Yu, do you mean… I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this bracelet.”

“Why not? I bought this bracelet especially for you, Yuqing. Please, accept it—my feelings are sincere.”

Bai Yu held the bracelet aloft, gazing at Yang Yuqing with such devotion that it seemed he would not lower his hand unless she accepted.

As time passed, their stalemate drew the attention of those seated nearby.

Zhao Fan frowned. Could Bai Yu not see Yang Yuqing’s discomfort?

A five-hundred-thousand bracelet was not something one accepted lightly, no matter who offered it. Bai Yu, emboldened by the setting, seemed intent on forcing the gift upon her.

“Yuqing, please take it. I truly wish to give it to you.”

Noticing the growing number of onlookers, Bai Yu’s lips curled with satisfaction. Everyone present was a prominent figure in Yang City. After this scene, most would assume he and Yang Yuqing were an item.

“Yuqing, please—accept it.”

Despite Yang Yuqing’s repeated refusals, Bai Yu would not relent; instead, he pressed the bracelet closer.

“I say, Young Master Bai, the lady doesn’t want your gift. Must you persist? It’s becoming rather awkward.”

Someone spoke, tone light but the ridicule barely concealed.

Bai Yu’s face clouded. “What nonsense are you spouting—you—”

“My dear Old Shen, do you not know what it means for a woman to be shy? You’re so obtuse—it must be hard on your wife,” someone else chimed in, sparking harmless bickering.

Zhao Fan glanced at the speakers and fell silent.

He had intended to help Yang Yuqing, but since others had intervened, he thought better of it.

No one could have predicted that a single bracelet would spark such drama at the auction.

Caught in the middle and beset by the mounting pressure of the crowd, Yang Yuqing had no choice but to accept the bracelet, her face tinged with embarrassment.

When the intermission ended, Dong Chen cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, the second half of our auction now begins.”

With Dong Chen’s announcement, the stiff atmosphere of the break faded.

The first half of the auction had been rather lackluster; the second half began in a similarly subdued manner.

But while everyone else seemed indifferent, Zhao Fan sat upright—because the first lot was the very reason he had come: the Song-style “Listening Wind” porcelain vase.

Dong Chen introduced the piece: “This is a modern imitation of the ‘Listening Wind’ vase. As you can see…”

While Dong Chen elaborated from the stage, Zhao Fan discreetly surveyed the room.

Having previously acquired a Ru kiln porcelain bowl of uncertain authenticity, he had used it to craft the image of a clueless novice bidder. Now, as the “Listening Wind” vase appeared, he exaggeratedly leaned forward in anticipation.

Because of his position, Zhao Fan’s movement looked rather awkward, drawing looks of annoyance from those nearby. They wondered privately how someone like him had even gained entry to the auction.

Noticing the stares, Zhao Fan deliberately raised his voice: “How can a mere imitation be auctioned as an antique?”

Many around him heard this deliberate outburst, and those already irritated by him grew more so.

Bai Yu turned and retorted, “Why not? Even as an imitation, the vase on stage is still an antique. I’m telling you, this vase is extremely valuable—far more so than that bowl you just bought.”

Feigning surprise, Zhao Fan replied, “Really?”

Excellent—Bai Yu’s words were perfectly timed.

His gaze shifted, and Zhao Fan let a look of greed flash across his face before sighing in resignation. “Too bad I’m short on money, otherwise I’d…”

“I’ll lend you some.”

The people nearby exchanged glances and smirks. The young master of the Bai family was clearly setting someone up.