The fingers intertwined over the shimmering gauze skirt curled slightly and unnaturally. Under the guise of arranging her hem, Yu Yan leaned a fraction closer to his side.
“I haven’t seen you take an interest in auctions before,” she teased. “Past thirty, and you’ve suddenly changed your tune, have you?”
Mu Xiaoduo maintained his lazy demeanor, saying casually: “It’s still things with a fixed price that feel more comfortable.”
His words were arrogant, and his actions even more so.
From beginning to end, he had only given his personal assistant a single look, after which he quite naturally turned into a hands-off boss.
Estimating market value, analyzing trends, deliberating bids… all these trivial matters fell squarely onto Assistant Lin’s shoulders alone.
Taking advantage of their silence, Assistant Lin seized the opportunity to interject, laying a densely packed data chart before him: “Sir, I checked the auction trends for ivory carvings over the past thirty years. Following a comprehensive evaluation, the ideal price range for the crescent moon boat is 370,000 to 390,000, and the appreciation return after five years will not exceed 100,000.”
“The current price has already doubled more than ten times over that baseline, so I believe we should cut our losses in time…”
He choked abruptly, the second half of his words vanishing into thin air the moment he met the man’s deep, cold gaze.
“Handle it however you see fit,” he tossed out.
Assistant Lin hurriedly acknowledged the order, put away his tablet, and sacrificing more than a decade of professional conscience quoted an inflated, loss-making high price.
He was crystal clear in his heart: if the crescent moon boat didn’t end up in their hands, he would probably be handed his severance package by tomorrow morning.
A few stray strands of hair fell, dangling before Yu Yan’s star-like, lake-blue eyes. She stealthily peeked at the man’s profile, an unusual sensation suddenly welling up in her chest.
She suddenly recalled some things from a long time ago. Her very first encounter with Mu Xiaoduo had been over twenty years ago. Back then, he had already become the standout elite among his peers.
Mu Xiaoduo was the designated successor chosen by the old patriarch of the Mu family. During his childhood, he had been taken directly to his grandfather’s side to be personally nurtured and trained.
The constraints of the Mu family were exceptionally strict, making even her, an outsider, feel suffocated.
Perhaps it was this sort of rigorous education that had forged Mu Xiaoduo into someone who could never afford to make a mistake, standing at an admirable, lofty height to shelter the peace-loving and wealth-indulging members of the Mu family.
His desires were low, and those autumn-water-like eyes regarded everything with indifference—yet it wasn’t a matter of not fighting for things; whatever he wanted had never once slipped through his grasp.
Take this crescent moon boat for instance: Yu Yan knew that no matter how many rounds of bidding it went through, its ultimate destination could only be Mu Xiaoduo.
“It looks like you’re truly fond of it, then.”
Mu Xiaoduo said nothing, his brows and eyes wrapped in fatigue, seeming thoroughly annoyed by the give-and-take of the bidding.
Yu Yan let out a soft, light smile and said again: “Still, Xiao Xun seemed to like it quite a bit as well. As his uncle, are you really going to snatch something away from him?”
“He’s still young, what does he know.”
Yet Yu Yan countered: “Mu Xun is not young anymore; he’s a grown-up getting married soon, and you still treat him like the hot-headed kid from a few years ago. Buying it was probably meant as a gift to coax his own wife into a good mood, after all.”
He paused imperceptibly, his expression submerged in the dim gloom as he said in a low, cool voice: “Consider it borrowing flowers to present to Buddha.”
Yu Yan blinked, failing to catch the meaning of his omitted half-sentence—borrow whose flowers? And present them to which Buddha?
However, Mu Xiaoduo was notoriously taciturn, and figures he wouldn’t bother explaining such things to her.
Following Assistant Lin’s quote of 4.7 million, the venue abruptly plunged into an eerie silence. Everyone was quietly waiting for Young Master Mu to throw out an even higher price, which seemed to have somehow become a sort of inertia.
Yet, Mu Xun delayed raising his paddle for a long time.
The auctioneer raised her voice to remind them: “4.7 million for the first time.”
Mu Xiaoduo glanced sideways,
That step-sibling of his with the terrible posture was undergoing a silent internal meltdown. His meticulously groomed hairstyle had also been clawed into a bird’s nest, and his shoulders trembled alongside half his body as though he were saying something to his fiancée.
Following that, Sheng Yuan wore a bewildered, innocent expression, tilting his head slightly as his two lips stubbornly talked back with unyielding spirit.
Mu Xun was evidently far more glib than he was.
Failing to win the argument after a couple of rounds, Sheng Yuan fumed with anger, angrily pulling off his hearing aid and turning his back so he neither had to listen nor look at him anymore. In his angry state, he looked precisely like a little clam shell tightly snapped shut.
Mu Xun froze, not expecting he would genuinely push the person into a rage. With so many eyes and ears in the venue, he couldn’t drop his pride to sweet-talk him, so he could only use his elbow to nudge him twice from time to time.
Yu Yan covered her lips with a light laugh, thinking to herself: Mu Xun is truly wrapped entirely around his fiancée’s little finger.
Turning her head, she wanted to exchange a lighthearted remark with the person beside her, but froze abruptly.
She saw his deep-black pupils gazing toward a certain corner, his gaze transforming into an airtight web, enveloping downwards from top to bottom.
Yu Yan suddenly found it a bit difficult to breathe.
She had always been sensitive, capable of detecting the most minute emotional shifts in those around her, an ability that became exceptionally acute when facing Mu Xiaoduo.
Yet at this moment, she wished with all her heart that she could become a little more foolish.
She didn’t dare presume to guess what was running through Mu Xiaoduo’s mind. Regardless of what it might be, the man would never voice it aloud, nor let it show on his countenance.
Mutely, Yu Yan withdrew her gaze, her fingers tightly twisting together as though she had swallowed a cup of bitter, astringent absinthe.
Let’s just assume… she had seen wrong.
On stage, the auctioneer dropped her gavel gracefully, leaning forward to congratulate the buyer of paddle No. 73 for becoming the new owner of the crescent moon boat.
Down below, everyone harbored their own hidden thoughts.
During the intermission of the charity auction, the guests dispersed in various directions.
With an unpleased expression, Mu Xun lifted his eyelids to cast a sideways glance at Sheng Yuan, asking in a piqued tone: “Where are you off to?”
Sheng Yuan kept his little face cold, offering neither speech nor glance.
A sudden surge of anger flared up in Mu Xun’s chest: “Tsk… you’re pulling this deaf-and-dumb act on me again.”
“Sheng Yuan, get back here!”
His gaze tracked Sheng Yuan, watching him neither look nor listen to him, turning on his heel and walking away in absolute silence.
With a crisp “crack,” the auction paddle innocent collateral damage was snapped cleanly in two, breaking right beside his foot.
Fine, fine, fine. Now he even dared to put on a cold face toward him.
He didn’t give half a glance to that wretched crescent moon boat; who had he been fighting for, who had he offended his uncle for?
Let the ungrateful wretch go wherever he pleased and do whatever he wanted, he couldn’t care less.
Mu Xun flicked a cigarette into his mouth, clenching it between his teeth while instinctively patting down his suit pockets.
The instant he lowered his head, a deep-blue flame leaped into view before his eyes.
A pair of clean, delicate fingers pressed down on a lighter, quietly waiting for him, the young woman’s face resembling fine jade beneath the shadow of her hair.
Lifting his eyelids to glance at her, he offered no refusal.
“What’s your name?”
“Lanyin.”
Mu Xun nodded, keeping her by his side.
The cigarette tip flared red, and after the smoke passed through his lungs and was slowly exhaled, it gradually dispelled the agitation churning in his heart.
He was never one to lack company pretty ones, obedient ones, all eagerly flocking toward him; why should he torment himself with anxiety over a deaf person’s departure…
The burnt ash fell softly in flurries. Barely half a cigarette in, he unconsciously glanced toward the exit several times.
Those two large white doors remained tightly shut, occasionally cracking open by a narrow slit to let people of all sorts pass in and out.
Mu Xun didn’t catch what Lanyin murmured in her soft, gentle tones; amidst the hazy clouds of smoke, he uncontrollably replayed the sight of Sheng Yuan angry just moments earlier.
The little fellow didn’t seem to realize that his cold face lacked any intimidation whatsoever. His naturally tender brows, eyes, and lips—even when throwing a tantrum—were adorable, and even a glare thrown his way felt like an act of relying on favor to act spoiled.
Lowering his gaze, he crushed the cigarette butt out in the ash tray and let out a solitary chuckle.
“…Young Master?” Lanyin gently tugged at his sleeve.
Mu Xun smoothly slipped his wristwatch off and slid it onto her arm. The Patek Philippe glided over her tender skin, hanging loosely around the young woman’s forearm.
Throwing Lanyin a look, he turned around with suave elegance and walked away.
Just as he anticipated, the little deaf person hadn’t run far; his slender silhouette materialized indistinctly behind a white pillar.
Mu Xun leisurely tracked him down, plotting in his mind how to coax him, when his footsteps suddenly slammed to a halt as his gaze crashed head-on into the suit-clad man standing before Sheng Yuan—
That guy… seemed to be his uncle’s personal assistant, and the person who had battled him tooth and nail at the auction was also this fellow. No wonder looking at him just raised his blood pressure.
Mu Xun stopped walking forward, lazily leaning his back against a Roman pillar. Possessing sharp eyesight, from a distance of roughly twenty paces, he watched Assistant Lin’s mouth open and close repeatedly, rattling off a string of words like beans spilling from a pouch.
With a cigarette dangling unlit from his mouth, he stared at them like a triad enforcer in a Hong Kong film.
Until he saw Assistant Lin retrieve a black insurance box stamped with the Zige Wei Manor logo—his gaze sinking, he finally lost his patience, crossing the distance in three strides meeting two.
Assistant Lin’s actions froze momentarily. Looking past Sheng Yuan to spot Mu Xun not far away, he spoke with respectful courtesy: “Young Master Mu Xun.”
Mu Xun extended an arm, forcefully hooking Sheng Yuan into his embrace.
“Is Uncle looking for my fiancée about something?” He asked with suave flair, ignoring the displeasure of the person in his arms.
“…Actually, it’s about both young masters. It’s just that Sir is currently catching up with an acquaintance and found it inconvenient to come over, so he entrusted me to deliver a small token of regard to you both.”
With that, Assistant Lin clicked open the safety latch and lifted the lid.
The crescent moon boat rested quietly upon the soft brocade, its exquisite, delicate carvings shimmering with wave-like patterns resembling moonlight.
Sheng Yuan’s pupils instantly washed over with a moon-white, cold radiance. Staring unblinkingly at the object inside the case, he even forgot to struggle free from Mu Xun’s arm.
That pale, shocking visual impact made Mu Xun’s temple throb violently. A drumbeat sounded in his chest as he failed to gauge his uncle’s true intention: “This is…”
With proper etiquette, Assistant Lin stated: “Due to work commitments, Sir previously missed the two young masters’ engagement banquet. This is a belated gift prepared for the pair of you. The preparation was rushed and somewhat lacking in thoroughness. Hopefully, Young Master Sheng will not mind and will accept this token of Sir’s sentiments.”
Sheng Yuan stood dazed for a moment, his footsteps involuntarily shifting backward as he said with anxious apprehension: “Uncle is our elder… besides, this is far too precious—”
“Since it’s Uncle’s kind intention, we’ll accept it.” Mu Xun cut him off, pinching the back of his neck like a kitten cub. “Please convey our thanks to Uncle on our behalf. Sheng… my fiancée likes this gift very much.”
Assistant Lin accepted the response: “I’ll have someone deliver the gift to your residence so as not to disturb you any further.”
“Sorry for the trouble.”
Before leaving, Mu Xun tossed out one more question: “How long does Uncle plan to stay in the country this time? So I can bring Sheng Yuan over to pay a formal visit.”
Assistant Lin replied: “The coordination with the Greater UK regional head went smoothly, and Sir is no longer needed to spare extra effort there. Moving forward, Sir’s professional focus will be centered domestically.”
“……I understand.”
Another crisp “click” echoed out, a spark of fire alternating between bright and dim as white smoke drifted up in its wake.
Mu Xun’s nicotine craving flared up, puffing on cigarette after cigarette. Amidst the billowing smoke, he cast a sideways glance—
Sheng Yuan seemed to thoroughly detest the smell of smoke on him, though lacking the courage to voice it, choosing instead to clumsily shuffle his small steps and inch farther away bit by bit.
“Want me to get you a lighter too?” Mu Xun mumbled with the cigarette clamped between his lips.
“Hm?” Sheng Yuan’s eyes held confusion.
Mu Xun took two steps forward, slanting his body to half-lean against the window, watching him through the hazy veil of smoke with an obscure, unreadable gaze.
That chillingly cold gaze inexplicably made one’s skin prickle. Retreating a tiny step, Sheng Yuan asked with nervous apprehension: “…Are you… going to pick a bone with me again?”
Mu Xun paused, never imagining he projected such an image in the other’s eyes. Yet the words he uttered truly sounded like he was looking for trouble.
“If the person who gave you the crescent moon boat wasn’t Uncle… but me, would you be just as happy?”
Sheng Yuan dazedly raised a hand to touch the corner of his lip: “…Did I?”
Mu Xun fell silent.
Standing nearby just a moment ago, he had taken in every trace of careful, cautious joy in Sheng Yuan’s eyes upon receiving the crescent moon boat. It was stunning; he had stared in a daze, unable to resist wanting to look a little longer…
Which was why he couldn’t control the thought: if the gift-giver had been him, would Sheng Yuan have worn that exact same expression as well?
Clearly he was the one who had spotted the crescent moon boat first; clearly he was the one who wanted to gift it to Sheng Yuan first; clearly…
His uncle always considered things with exhaustive thoroughness, yet tonight he had thrown away a fortune was he harboring the exact same sentiment, aiming solely to buy a smile?
An indescribable, unnameable emotion began spreading within his chest… Mu Xun felt that tonight, he was becoming somewhat unlike himself.
Sheng Yuan gently pursed his lips, his gaze drifting away without a fixed target toward the window.
The rain had cleared up at some point. People who had gone wild dancing all night inside the ballroom began shifting venues, carrying several massive fireworks boxes out toward the garden.
The mottled raindrops on the glass pane stretched their silhouettes into a distorted blur.
Suddenly, a flash of scarlet light sliced past the window, and that dark figure of a person loomed forward.
His vision plunged abruptly into darkness, and Sheng Yuan started in shock, holding his breath reflexively.
He was shoved backward in a stumbling retreat until his spine came up against the icy wall.
A heartbeat hammered like a drum against his chest cavity, the man’s broad shoulders shutting out every scrap of light from his eyes, leaving him unable to make out Mu Xun’s expression at that moment.
His panic-stricken lips parted, and before he could squeeze out a single sound, Mu Xun pressed down upon him unceremoniously.
A heavy aroma of tobacco washed over him, charging straight into his nasal cavity.
A flash of white light crossed Sheng Yuan’s mind, and he whipped his head aside in a sudden start.
“Don’t!!”
Strands of hair brushed across his cheek, soft lips scraping ruthlessly past his lobe, while smoke-laden breath halted right at the side of his neck.
He heard Mu Xun’s voice: “Why…”