Yu Xifeng had watched enough and pretty much guessed He Yuan’s intention.

The enemy surfaced, and it was nothing much.

Yesterday, Zhang Qiu told her that this He Yuan claimed to be an old childhood friend, but it was a bit of a stretch.

At best, he was just someone else’s kid—always a top student, always acting all high and mighty since he was little, not playing in the same dirt as them.

His grandfather, however, had some connections with Old Cai.

They would meet every weekend in the park to play a couple of games of Chinese chess.

During a heavy rainstorm, when traffic was cut off, the He family—four generations living together—had the old He starve to death at home.

Old He’s resolve was admirable.

But his descendants made people feel cold.

So Yu Xifeng said, “I think Old Cai probably doesn’t want to be your grandfather. Why don’t you just change your last name?”

He Yuan’s face turned cold: “I didn’t expect Miss Yu to be so stupid.”

Zhang Qiu said that He Yuan was basically just a walking pretender.

That was really not an exaggeration.

“I didn’t expect you to say something so funny,” Yu Xifeng smiled kindly.

He Yuan’s whole face darkened.

Yu Xifeng stopped arguing with him and went to practice boxing with Old Cai.

In no time, it was the day of the auction.

Yu Xifeng changed into a proper new outfit.

The banquet was a step above last time; as soon as she entered, a waiter brought her a piece of chocolate filled with liquor.

The liquor chocolate was coated with crushed nuts.

The rich aroma was intoxicating.

Everyone coming and going, whether by attire or demeanor, was eye-catching.

Yu Xifeng didn’t dress up deliberately; her strength was being clean and neat. Though simple, she wasn’t out of place.

But she lacked warmth and refined etiquette. Among the bustling waiters, she looked very stiff—like an unsheathed knife.

Zheng Weiyang silently made a mental note.

Then he greeted her with a broad smile.

Yu Xifeng saw quite a few familiar faces.

Wang Anmin was on the outskirts, nodding to Yu Xifeng.

He Yuan followed behind a middle-aged man, dressed sharply in a suit, with a reserved smile on his lips.

He Yuan was courteous, stepping back politely at the entrance to let Yu Xifeng go first.

This person was really… the more you looked, the funnier he seemed.

There was no last-minute drama like last time.

Everything was out in the open: the notice clearly stated that after the banquet, anyone wishing to join the auction must provide a deposit worth 100 jin of rice.

He Yuan said gently, “If Miss Yu had accepted my proposal earlier, you might already have the auction entry ticket.”

Yu Xifeng tilted her head, “Do you look down on Zhang Qiu?”

“Not at all. Zhang Qiu and I grew up together,” He Yuan said.

“When you first saw me, I was with Zhang Qiu. You look down on him but need something from him, so you shift that contempt onto me.”

With every word Yu Xifeng spoke, He Yuan’s expression grew uglier.

“Let me guess, what do you want from Zhang Qiu?

Your grandfather? Impossible—you even watched your own grandfather die with your own eyes.”

“Enough!” He Yuan shouted loudly.

His voice was so loud that the surrounding noise stopped, all eyes turned toward him, and his face flushed red.

Yu Xifeng kept smiling cheerfully.

Zheng Weiyang quickly came over, made some conciliatory remarks, and took He Yuan away in another direction.

Yu Xifeng went to the buffet table and, under He Yuan’s hateful gaze, sampled various snacks.

She liked the naan sprinkled with cumin powder.

It was probably baked, smelling fragrant and soft.

Regarding the auction entry ticket, Yu Xifeng had already handed two boxes of canned fruit to the waiter when she arrived.

She had thought this through carefully.

Right under Zheng Weiyang’s watchful eye.

It was best not to casually bring out things collected from Zheng Weiyang’s factory.

Although the rice and flour didn’t have Zheng Weiyang’s name on them, it was safer to be cautious.

Yu Xifeng would rather have the goods changed hands a few times than attract any suspicious glances.

Canned fruit was more valuable than rice in the upper-class circulation.

For Yu Xifeng, these things were way too sweet.

She had fresh fruit supplied from her space and rarely ate canned fruit.

Zheng Weiyang made a speech condemning the Sun God cult.

The auction’s purpose was to raise funds to repair damage caused by the cult’s facilities.

Five percent of the auction proceeds would be donated to charity to improve survivors’ lives.

Some people clicked pictures.

Interestingly, the first item up for auction was a box of well-preserved canned yellow peaches.

The exhibit was carried around by a waiter for all the guests to see closely.

A box of canned yellow peaches only had six jars, weighing less than five jin; each jar contained only five or six slices of fruit.

The starting bid was ten jin of rice.

Rice had long disappeared from most survivors’ diets.

Even people with a little wealth like Old Cai and Yun Jie could only eat it occasionally.

Every bag of rice was considered precious.

That’s why the cellar Zhang Qiu discovered was so valuable and stirred murderous intentions.

Cellars often stored rice.

This former staple had become unaffordable for ordinary survivors due to natural disasters.

This box of canned peaches was auctioned off at the price of 65 jin of rice.

Yu Xifeng took a sip of lemon water brought by the waiter and toyed with her bidding card without much reaction.

Next came red wine, cigarettes, squab, and caviar.

This auction was truly a mixed bag.

The sixteenth item was a set of Tang Sancai pottery.

The Tang Sancai had bright colors and was well-preserved.

As the space’s owner, Yu Xifeng vaguely sensed a progress bar unique to the space.

Antiques from the villa area, antiques that Fatty brought, and the jade pendant Zhang Qiu gave.

Each addition pushed the progress bar forward.

Yu Xifeng looked forward to what kind of qualitative change the space would undergo when the bar reached the end.

The space needed this Tang Sancai.

After receiving the space’s signal, Yu Xifeng sat up straight.

In her free time, she also pondered the space’s standards.

She summed up the rules: first, the older the better.

For items from roughly the same era, ceramics were valued higher than jewelry, and jewelry higher than other utensils.

The rules were not absolute, depending on quality and some indefinable factors.

She had acquired many items that puzzled her but were very useful to the space.

She guessed perhaps those items carried a unique historical significance.

Over the long course of time, some antiques were broken, some forgotten.

Maybe only the space knew what those antiques really represented and what legacy they carried.

Yu Xifeng couldn’t miss any opportunity to advance the space.

The starting bid for the Tang Sancai was 50 jin of rice.