Chapter 11

People often say speaking of someone calls them forth—and just as Chu Zheng thought of Xu Rui, she appeared. Xu Rui and her fiancé entered the parking area from another direction, heading toward the elevator.

Xu Rui was also wearing heels today—over 10 centimeters tall, with a platform of about four to five centimeters. She stood at 171 cm, and with the heels, she towered over Qi Chen.

Qi Chen and Xu Rui had arrived from different places and met in the parking lot. The moment he got out of the car, he was stunned.

Hands on his hips, clearly exasperated, he complained as they walked, “Xu Rui, are you deliberately trying to humiliate me? Stepping all over me makes you feel good, huh? If you’re sick of me, just kick me to the curb!”

Xu Rui shot him a sideways glance. With a man of this intelligence level, explaining was pointless.

She had a business meeting today—with foreigners all well over 190 cm. She couldn’t afford to be dwarfed by them, so she had pulled out her high heels last night.

After the meeting ended in the afternoon, she was too lazy to go home and change, so she came directly to the auction from the office.

She teased Qi Chen, “After the auction, I’ll take you to the doctor. That persecution complex of yours might be incurable, even with meds.”

Qi Chen: “……”

Then Xu Rui hooked her arm around his neck and pulled him in. “Who told you to not drink milk or eat properly when you were a kid? If you’d grown to 179 cm, would this even be a problem? Huh?”

Qi Chen nearly lost it. Gritting his teeth, he corrected her, “Point five! 179.5!”

He smoothed his chest to calm himself down, reminding himself not to get angry. He’d save his energy to deal with her later.

At this point, the only place he could reclaim some dignity was in bed. Outside of that, Xu Rui had him wrapped around her finger.

As they joked and bickered, Qi Chen suddenly lifted his head and froze for a moment. Even here, they could run into Mu Jinpei and his woman. Xu Rui also glanced in that direction.

Qi Chen abruptly pulled his gaze back and sized up Xu Rui, especially her high heels. She usually wore nothing taller than three or four centimeters.

Xu Rui noticed the odd look in his eyes. “What are you staring at!”

Qi Chen finally understood. “You should’ve just said it. Wearing heels to match the height of your secret crush, huh?”

Xu Rui slapped him on the head. “Are you crazy? I didn’t even know he’d be here.”

In front of the elevator, the two groups ran into each other again. Other unfamiliar guests were waiting too. Across the small crowd, they exchanged only a nod in greeting.

Xu Rui deliberately avoided sharing an elevator with them and pulled Qi Chen toward a different one.

Meanwhile, staying low-profile was practically impossible for Mu Jinpei. Even in the elevator, someone recognized him, prompting greetings and small talk.

Upstairs, the host of the event personally waited at the door to welcome them.

Mu Jinpei gave Chu Zheng a glance—clearly blaming him for not handling this properly.

Chu Zheng had no way to defend himself. He had reminded the host again and again not to make a scene. The host had agreed… or so he thought.

Apparently, their definitions of “low-key” differed. In the host’s mind, not arranging a red carpet, not saving the best parking spot, and not assigning a private elevator was low-key.

The host, an old friend of Pei Yu, had met Mu Jinpei before. They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.

Most of the guests turned their attention to Ji Xingyao, quietly speculating whether the Mu and Ji families were planning a business marriage.

Mu Jinpei introduced Ji Xingyao to the elder host, who wasn’t surprised to see the two arrive together. They looked perfectly matched—a natural pair from well-matched families.

Pei Yu had previously mentioned Ji Xingyao to him, and it was clear from her words how much she admired the girl.

As the auction was about to begin, Mu Jinpei led Ji Xingyao into the hall. Most guests were already seated.

The moment Ji Xingyao sat down, she felt like she was finally free. Her ankles were rubbed raw, and the tops of her feet felt like they were about to break. A few more steps might’ve snapped her bones.

Next time, she’d buy a pair with platforms—like the ones Xu Rui wore. They at least looked comfortable.

Mu Jinpei sat close beside her and handed her the auction catalog. “Pick anything you like. I’ll buy whatever you want.”

Ji Xingyao joked, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll just buy everything in here?”

Mu Jinpei answered calmly, “That’s fine. I’ve got enough money for you to spend.”

Ji Xingyao almost couldn’t reply. She chuckled. “Then I’ll take a good look and make sure to find something I like. I must honor President Mu’s generosity.” Then she bowed her head to read the catalog.

Mu Jinpei casually glanced toward the auction stage. The emcee was already in place. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Xu Rui sitting in the front VIP row.

She had turned her head and was talking to Qi Chen beside her.

Mu Jinpei withdrew his gaze. Ji Xingyao had finished reading and closed the catalog.

He handed her a pen. “Mark the ones you like.”

Ji Xingyao declined, “No need. I only like one—item twenty-one.”
It was a calligraphy piece, moderately priced. If he gave it to her, she’d accept, and return the favor another day.

Mu Jinpei took back the catalog and flipped through it from beginning to end, marking four more items. He handed the catalog to Chu Zheng. “Get all of these.”

They were also for Ji Xingyao.

The auction officially began.

Ji Xingyao only focused when something interested her. For the rest of the time, her mind wandered out of boredom.

Mu Jinpei had even less interest in this kind of event. He hadn’t taken a VIP seat, instead choosing a quiet spot in the last row near the corner.

“Did Xingyao I get sold or is it still with you?” he asked Ji Xingyao.

The venue was noisy, so she leaned closer and replied, “It sold years ago at an auction in Paris. But the price wasn’t high.”

Only 350,000.

She recalled it was purchased by someone with the surname Xie.

Xingyao I went for a few hundred thousand, while two years later Xingyao II sold for 5.8 million. Besides Pei Yu, many others had joined the bidding—that was the greatest affirmation of her work.

Mu Jinpei had originally wanted to buy one of her figure paintings to gift his mother. He’d just have to wait for the next one. “What’s next, a figure painting or a still life?”

Ji Xingyao replied, “A figure painting. I’ll work on still lifes during breaks.”

Mu Jinpei nodded, then asked, “Will you continue with Xingyao III?”

Ji Xingyao answered honestly, “III is already finished. I’ve even outlined Xingyao IV. Planning to start next week.”

Mu Jinpei said, “Then I’ll come to your studio to see Xingyao III.”

Ji Xingyao smiled, “Not showing you.” It wasn’t just talk—she really didn’t plan to show him.

Seeing she wasn’t joking, he asked, “Then when can I see Xingyao III?”

“Next spring auction,” she replied.

They chatted for a while, then Mu Jinpei’s phone buzzed. He began replying to work messages.

Ji Xingyao shifted her feet—pain shot through her. Since she was in the last row and seated by the edge, she wouldn’t disturb anyone if she stepped out. She used the restroom as an excuse to check if her ankle was actually bleeding.

Shortly after she left, the emcee announced, “Up next is item twenty-one.”
The auctioneer began, “Starting bid: 100,000.”

Item twenty-one—the calligraphy piece Ji Xingyao liked. Xu Rui also had her eye on it. She said to Qi Chen, “Bid on this for me.”

Qi Chen flipped through the catalog. “You want this? I could write that myself. I guarantee it’ll look better. I’ll write a few for you when we get home.”

Xu Rui gave him a sharp side-eye. “So you’re not bidding?”

Qi Chen threw the catalog onto the table. “Fine, I’ll bid.” He dragged out the words. Could he not bid? If he didn’t, he’d be dead before they even left the auction hall.

He didn’t bother going up in small increments and directly bid 520,000.

It was just an average-looking piece of calligraphy—Qi Chen figured no one would be foolish enough to compete with him for it.

Then came the announcement: “The gentleman in Row 8 has bid one million.”

Qi Chen froze. Damn, there really was a fool out there. He raised his paddle again, bidding 1.5 million.

The next second, Row 8 raised it to two million.

Qi Chen silently cursed again. He leaned over to Xu Rui and said, “Don’t worry. Even if I have to go broke, I’ll win this for you.” He raised the bid to 2.2 million.

Xu Rui frowned at him. “Are you crazy?”

Qi Chen grinned mischievously. “If I’m crazy, will that make you dump me?”

Just as he finished speaking, the other party raised the bid to 2.6 million.

Xu Rui really did like the piece, but it wasn’t worth spending several million on. In her mind, it was only worth maybe 200–300k. This was far beyond her budget.

She grabbed Qi Chen’s hand just as he was about to raise his paddle again. “That’s enough. Don’t flaunt your money like some broke show-off.”

For once, Qi Chen wanted to act like a man. He forcefully pried her hand off. “This isn’t about showing off! It’s about a man’s pride—got it? We may not win the bread, but we’ll win the fight.”

He raised his paddle again: three million.

Back in Row 8, Chu Zheng finally caught sight of who was bidding in the front-row VIP section—it was Xu Rui’s fiancé. Until now, someone had been blocking his view, and he’d had to lean over awkwardly to see clearly.

He turned to Mu Jinpei. “Mr. Mu, it looks like Xu Rui also has her eyes on that calligraphy piece.” In other words: do we still want to keep bidding?

Mu Jinpei looked toward the VIP seats and, after a two-second pause, said calmly, “Xingyao likes that piece.”

Chu Zheng got the message and immediately raised the bid to 5.2 million.

The piece was ultimately sold for 5.2 million.

Everyone turned to see who had won the bid. Upon realizing it was Mu Jinpei, their curiosity faded. Of course—no wonder.

Qi Chen nearly died from frustration. If Xu Rui hadn’t stopped him at the last second and stopped him from raising his paddle, he definitely would’ve won it. He would’ve gone all in—even bid 10.4 million if he had to.

Who was afraid of whom?

Earlier, Xu Rui had been curious just like everyone else and had turned around to see who else had their eye on that piece—only to spot Mu Jinpei.

The moment she realized Mu Jinpei was determined to buy it, she stopped Qi Chen from bidding further.

Because if Mu Jinpei wanted something—he wouldn’t let go.

Qi Chen leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, still fuming. He couldn’t swallow the fact that he kept getting crushed by Mu Jinpei. It was unbearable.

He couldn’t help but say with a snide tone, “Come on, you worked your butt off for him for four or five years. Even if you didn’t earn merit, you put in the sweat. And yet he won’t even let you have a lousy piece of calligraphy? He even used ‘520’ to confess to Little Star. President Xu, isn’t your heart freezing cold right now?”

Xu Rui put her phone down and twisted his cheek—like she was twisting the knob on an old black-and-white TV from the 1980s, switching from a local channel to the national broadcast. A full 180-degree turn.

Qi Chen gasped in pain. What the hell—is she even a woman?!

It was a public venue. He didn’t dare make a fuss.

Xu Rui let go, patted his cheek, and said, “I’ll deal with you when we get home.”

On stage, the next auction item was already being introduced.

Ji Xingyao returned from the restroom. The back of her right foot and her ankle were both badly rubbed raw. Her left foot was fine—the shoe fit better. She hobbled along, not daring to let her right foot touch the ground.

At the entrance to the auction hall, she straightened her back, bit down on the pain, and resumed her elegant and poised walk.

Every step was torture.

When she returned to her seat, the pain had her palms sweating. She asked Mu Jinpei as casually as possible, “Have they gotten to item 21 yet?”

Mu Jinpei replied, “It’s already been won.”

“How much?”

“Two hundred thousand.”

He gave a random low number.

Ji Xingyao thought, Two hundred thousand—not bad. She figured she’d get him a gift of similar value one day in return.

By the end of the auction, Mu Jinpei had bought five items, totaling 11 million.

Everyone assumed he had been generously supporting the event as a favor to the host—just showing up to lend his presence.

Chu Zheng went to handle the paperwork for the items. The guests began to disperse, and the hall gradually quieted.

Mu Jinpei stood up, and Ji Xingyao looked up at him. “Can we wait a bit longer?”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, then quickly caught on. “Your foot hurts?”

Ji Xingyao replied, “Yeah. The shoes rubbed my foot. It’s not serious.”
She wanted to wait until most people had left, so she didn’t have to keep up appearances—and wouldn’t embarrass him by limping.

She was going to be hobbling out of here soon. The pain was too much to bear.

Mu Jinpei sat back down and leaned forward. “Let me see your foot.”

Ji Xingyao didn’t let him. Her right foot instinctively slid further under the seat, but she accidentally brushed the wound—sending another stab of pain through her.

Mu Jinpei didn’t insist. Instead, he called Chu Zheng and told him to arrange for a private elevator.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket, undid the button on his suit jacket, and looked at Ji Xingyao.
“Once most people are gone, I’ll carry you out.”