Beneath the dim, cold light, precious collections from across the globe were presented one after another.
Among them were plenty of Emperor Qianlong cloisonné pieces, Yuan blue and white porcelain, Vienna royal jewelry… every single one of them dazzling and radiant.
The auctioneer had presided over nearly ten thousand auctions; whether in China or across the ocean on the other side, the sound of her gavel dropping had echoed everywhere.
She knew how to make these treasures catch the eyes of the wealthy, who were usually too lazy to look with their own eyes, relying only on piling up magnificent rhetoric and endless praise to elevate them higher and higher.
Until the wealthy thought: Well, taking it home to use as a decorative piece wouldn’t be bad either.
Yet Sheng Yuan felt that it was already beautiful enough, like the moon.
It needed no further embellishment; the admiring gaze was its finest dowry.
As the sound of the gavel rang out, bidding paddles rose continuously and fell one after another, resembling a churning black sea.
The bidding prices escalated step by step, and the long string of numbers had long since far surpassed the value of the collection itself, yet this undercurrent-churning game of chess showed no sign of stopping.
Rain continued to fall in the mountains, mottled raindrops smearing the glass.
The sky was dark and gloomy, moonless.
Those who failed in their bids shrugged and smiled, and even the highest bidder seemed somewhat lacking in enthusiasm.
Sheng Yuan suddenly realized that the upper class apparently had no need for the moon; they could effortlessly purchase it with money.
His fingers slowly smoothed out the wrinkled corners of the catalog, as if spreading open the young man’s soft, boneless heart all at once.
How should one describe this night?
It was like a nocturnal rodent that emerges by night, believing the sky to be nothing more than the square manhole cover pressed directly over its head. Until a mistake of time allowed it a glimpse into the world of light.
Utterly dazzling, floating in luxury and extravagance.
This place was filled with temptations; even as cautious and meticulous as it was, it could not help but harbor greedy, covetous desires for something completely out of reach.
Yet this was not a place where it ought to linger; it was far too fragile, and the sweep of a carriage wheel could cost it its life.
Mu Xun was right; Mu Xiaoduo deserved to be gazed up to from afar, deserved every word of praise… sole exception being that he was not suited to become an object of covetous desire, which to him would feel like a flaw in a piece of flawless white jade.
“You’re overthinking it.”
After a long silence, Sheng Yuan finally spoke to break the eerie tranquility between himself and Mu Xun.
Mu Xun was dazed for a moment, as though he had forgotten what he had just said.
“What sort of person I am, what kind of world I inhabit, what I ought to think and what I ought not to think…… I am clearer on this than anyone else,” he gave Mu Xun a soft smile, his voice as cool and clear as water. “This place is very beautiful, thank you for bringing me today.”
Beneath the thin light, Sheng Yuan’s eye color and hair were both light, his brows and eyes brimming with autumn water, and Mu Xun could even see his own pupils reflected in that pool of eyes.
Especially a small brown mole at the inner corner of his eye—why hadn’t he noticed it before? Although the placement wasn’t quite standard, it was still rather……
The campus pure romance, delayed by a decade or so, made his earlobes burn hot.
Mu Xun cleared his throat, shifted his body unnaturally, and put on a serious expression: “If you like it…… I can bring you here often in the future.”
Sheng Yuan gently shook his head, saying there was no need.
Where Mu Xun couldn’t see, he quietly touched his earlobe.
A surging tide of people moved around him, the shouting of bids rolling on endlessly…… all of these vanished the moment he removed his hearing aid, as if tumbling into a boundless, empty silence.
His pupils reflected the light and shadow upon the auction stage, while behind him stood a presence brighter than moonlight—fearing his own guilt, he dared not look again.
Mu Xun crossed his long legs, his toe tapping restlessly up and down.
Just as this annoying wave of heat had finally subsided, a sore sense of guilt welled up again.
What he had just said to Sheng Yuan sounded a bit harsh……
Yet his words were blunt and held their truth.
At his age, he had shed the youthful appearance, but hadn’t completely cast off the youthful mindset.
“Hiss”
Shifting his long legs up and down, Mu Xun switched to crossing them the other way, executing a large movement that kicked the seat of the person in front of him.
That person turned back in displeasure, locked eyes with Mu Xun’s gloomy face, and twisted his neck right back without a single moment of pause.
In this world, the things that could make Mu Xun feel guilty were few and far few between.
He himself lived ostentatiously by what he called an open and honest code, yet deep down he knew perfectly well that this was the fickle and selfish nature ingrained in the bones of the Mu family, impossible to change.
With a chaotic mind, he had even less enthusiasm for the auction on stage, so he switched his legs back the other way.
His back slightly arched, the hem of his suit spreading smoothly, Mu Xun draped one hand over the back of Sheng Yuan’s seat in an intimate, half-embracing posture.
And then he heard Sheng Yuan let out a tiny sigh, seeming somewhat annoyed by his constant shifting.
“Don’t fret, I won’t move anymore.”
His final action was to cup Sheng Yuan’s icy fingers within his own palm, closing his five fingers around them in a snug fit, as though toying with a smooth, glossy piece of mutton-fat jade.
Unexpectedly, Sheng Yuan did not reject his touch.
Or rather, he hadn’t noticed at all.
Beneath his dark eyelashes, two bright crescents of light were locked within his pupils; he watched with such intense focus that he seemed to have forgotten even to blink.
Mu Xun lifted his eyelids to glance at the stage it was an ivory-carved crescent moon boat.
Among a cluster of gorgeous collections, it appeared exceptionally lackluster, resembling more of a complimentary giveaway following a high-value purchase.
Ivory white, palm-sized, produced in mid-20th-century Africa, its sole selling point remaining the ingenious, master-class carving.
Seeing him staring fixedly without blinking at the crescent moon boat, Mu Xun smiled abruptly: “Like it?”
Sheng Yuan snapped out of it, blinking his dry eyes.
He hadn’t heard what Mu Xun said, and feeling the delayed tactile sensation on his hand, he lowered his gaze and moved slightly, only to find himself held even tighter instead.
In terms of sheer physical strength, he couldn’t compete with a brute, and struggling carelessly could easily dislocate a joint, so he simply let Mu Xun do as he pleased.
“……The starting price for the African ivory-carved collection is 160,000. So now, the bidding begins.”
The auctioneer dropped her gavel, and immediately following that, the bidding paddles below the stage began rising and falling in succession, resembling a surging black ocean.
The bidding prices climbed step by step, and the long string of numbers had long since far surpassed the value of the collection, yet this undercurrent-churning game of wits showed no sign of stopping.
Inside the venue, seats were scattered, and guests were not seated in neat rows according to numbers, otherwise Mu Xun would have genuinely wanted to check who No. 73 was.
He couldn’t bother himself with the low-key conduct demanded by his uncle; spending money like a waterfall, the moment the opponent raised the price, he was bound to multiply it severalfold.
He had originally only wanted to buy a small trinket to casually coax Sheng Yuan, never expecting to bite into a blind, stubborn piece of hard timber.
Mu Xun’s frequent raising and dropping of the paddle made Sheng Yuan feel something wasn’t quite right. He raised a hand to tidy his temples and hung the hearing aid back onto his ear.
The moment he put it on, he heard Mu Xun casually spit out an astronomical figure, leaving him too shocked to speak, his fingers nestled inside the other’s fist twitching involuntarily.
Mu Xun’s head grew hot, mistakenly believing he was agonizing over the money as he curved his lips into a smile: “What? Not even through the door yet and you’re already thinking about managing my finances? Your man can still afford this tiny bit of pocket change.”
Might as well have stayed deaf.
Sheng Yuan was thoroughly disgusted by his self-righteous remark, bringing his index and middle fingers together to pinch a small piece of flesh on Mu Xun’s palm, twisting it firmly half a turn.
Wincing in pain, Mu Xun let out a “hiss-haha,” his brows furrowing as he slanted a smiling, sidelong glance at him.
Yet his hand still didn’t let go; instead, he forcefully pried open Sheng Yuan’s locked knuckles, wedging all five fingers straight through.
In this wealthy arena of wine and song, with silver money flowing like water, it carried an alternative flavor reminiscent of young men from wealthy families vying with one another to lavish fortunes on courtesans.
Finally, amidst the constantly updating and overlapping numbers, Sheng Yuan sluggishly noticed that unchanging number.
Thus he raised his eyes, his gaze falling across the entire venue.
Just as No. 73 placed a bid, a white square paddle rising and falling to reveal the aristocratic, sharp-featured face behind it.
Light and shadow dimmed, the faint, cold light casting a dark shadow beneath his eyes.
His brows and eyes were indifferent, appearing somewhat fatigued.
His assistant would tilt his head toward his boss from time to time, and upon seeing the boss give an imperceptible lift of his brow, that person would continue raising the paddle to bid with a tacit understanding.
The prolonged calling of bids left the auctioneer’s throat dry, her voice growing slightly hoarse: “No. 73, bidding 4.7 million.”
Just as Mu Xun prepared to drive the price up once more, the wrist holding the paddle was suddenly pressed down by a force.
Mu Xun asked in astonishment: “What’s wrong?”
Only to see Sheng Yuan furrow his brows, shaking his head in a small motion as he lowered his voice to say: “It’s Uncle…”