Chapter 36:

At the end of March, the annual Spring Auction began.

Back during the Autumn Auction, Ji Xingyao and Mu Jinpei had still strangers. One winter later, they would have become close lovers if the auction itself had played matchmaker for them.

Ji Xingyao also came to show support today.

At only 6:30 a.m., she turned off her alarm and rolled over to go back to sleep.

Mu Jinpei had already finished his morning workout. “Still not getting up?”

Ji Xingyao was sleeping soundly. “It doesn’t start until ten. What’s the rush?”

Aside from attending the auction, Mu Jinpei had no other plans today. He took off his robe and climbed into bed to nap with Ji Xingyao.

He’d just showered—his body cool and fresh, carrying the scent of clean shower gel. Ji Xingyao turned toward him and wrapped herself around him like a vine.

“One day I’m going to paint a picture of us. I’ll call it Morning.”

Just like this—him holding her, her wrapped around him. Sunlight filtering through sheer curtains, time standing still.

Mu Jinpei said, “You can only paint above the covers.” He pulled the smoky gray blanket up to their chests.

Ji Xingyao lay halfway on top of him, arms around his neck. Her skin was so fair it seemed to glow, made even more luminous against the smoky gray. Every now and then, she rubbed her arm against his neck.

At first, Mu Jinpei thought she was just shifting unconsciously—until it became rhythmic.

“What are you doing?” he asked, scratching her arm. “Is it itchy?”

“Don’t move, it’s not itchy,” she pouted.

“Then why are you rubbing?”

“Body communication. You wouldn’t understand.”

“…”

Ji Xingyao said it with a serious face, even though she was clearly making it up. “Every cell in the body has memory. I’m doing this so my cells remember you.”

Mu Jinpei replied, “You could just admit you want to show off how fair your arms are.”

“… Hahaha.”

In truth, she didn’t care about cell memory or body language—she just thought it was fun. When she got bored of rubbing his neck, she started tracing the length of his back with her palm.

Mu Jinpei pressed his forehead to hers and said in a low voice, “There are some physical activities where the body really memory does have, but you need deep communication.”

He had genuinely wanted her to get some more sleep—but she kept teasing and provoking him, and so their nap turned into an intense and intimate workout session instead.

Ji Xingyao buried her face in the crook of his neck, trying to stay quiet. Eventually, when she couldn’t take it anymore and tried to push him away, he held her and flipped over, placing her beneath him.

They looked into each other’s eyes, completely focused, seeing themselves reflected in each other.

It was the first time they made love in the morning, able to clearly see each other’s expressions—and in the other’s eyes, they found themselves.

By 9:00 a.m., they headed out.

The Spring Auction was still being held at the same hotel as last time. When Ji Xingyao and Mu Jinpei arrived, most guests had already taken their seats. They entered discreetly through the back door.

Chu Zheng had already picked up the paddle and saved seats for them.

Pei Yu didn’t attend today—Xie Junyi was present.

After the New Year, Mu Wenya had returned to New York, but Xie Yuncheng and Xie Junyi had both stayed behind. Xie Junyi remained to initiate collaborative projects with the Ji Group and other partners. As for why Xie Yuncheng hadn’t left, Mu Jinpei didn’t know and didn’t care.

Mu Jinpei glanced through the auction catalog—Xingyao 3 wouldn’t come up for a while. He excused himself to the restroom and stepped out of the hall.

In the corridor, he ran into Xie Junyi—seemingly by chance.

“Uncle, may I have a word?”

Xie Junyi nodded. The two of them moved to a quiet area, with bodyguards stationed over ten meters away to ensure privacy.

Xie Junyi asked, “What is it?”

Mu Jinpei said bluntly, “I have a personal vendetta with Ji Changsheng. It’s related to my birth parents.” He didn’t hold back. “I came to Beijing to take revenge on the Ji Group.”

Xie Junyi, typically composed and calm, was stunned. It took him a while to absorb this bombshell. Mu Jinpei wasn’t telling him this out of trust—but to leverage his power to strike quickly against the Ji Group.

“So what’s your purpose in telling me?” Xie Junyi pretended not to understand.

Mu Jinpei looked out the window. “No real purpose. I just don’t want you to let your guard down just because Ji Changsheng is my future father-in-law. Don’t treat him like family.”

Xie Junyi turned slightly, giving him a sidelong glance. “You and Ji Xingyao…”

Before he could finish, Mu Jinpei interrupted coldly, “Uncle, that’s none of your concern.”

Xie Junyi gave a dry chuckle. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll ruin your plan?”

“If I were, I wouldn’t have told you.” Mu Jinpei put his hands in his pockets and turned to him. “You know exactly what kind of person I am. And I know exactly what kind of person you are.”

Xie Junyi laughed bitterly. What kind of person was he? Someone who valued profit more than life itself. And Mu Jinpei? The type who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

Xie Junyi was greedy but lacked the ruthless resolve and courage.

Mu Jinpei, on the other hand, was cold, calculating—and capable.

Mu Jinpei had identified his weakness and was applying just the right pressure.

“Excuse me,” Mu Jinpei said as he turned to leave.

Xie Junyi couldn’t help but ask, “How’s your mother?”

Mu Jinpei replied without looking back, “What’s it to you?”

Xie Junyi stood by the window for a long time. He’d only come today because he’d received an invitation. He’d seen all the pieces—none really interested him.

Just before re-entering the auction hall, Mu Jinpei ran into Tang Jiale. “Where’s Xingyao?”

“Why?” he countered instead of answering.

Tang Jiale disliked his aggressive tone—but unfortunately, he was her second boss. Whether she liked it or not, she had to maintain politeness. She smiled. “Just wanted to catch up. It’s been a while.”

Mu Jinpei thought for a few seconds. “If you’re planning to ask about Xie Yuncheng, I’d advise you not to bother.” He repeated what he’d said before: “You and he are impossible.”

If Tang Jiale had a glass of water right now, she’d have thrown it in his face. What a buzzkill. She calmed herself and said, “President Mu, I really don’t get what you mean. If I’m that dense, perhaps you could spell it out?”

The truth wasn’t something easily explained in one sentence—and not something he could tell her either. But for Ji Xingyao’s sake, Mu Jinpei gave her one sincere piece of advice. “Don’t waste your time on him. You’re not right for each other.”

How were they not right? Tang Jiale knew the answer deep down. She was just in denial, unwilling to admit there was no future with Xie Yuncheng.

Xie Yuncheng was notoriously reckless and wild. While he’d matured with age, the charm of a man in his thirties was even more addictive than when he was younger.

So even though everyone knew he was completely unreliable, women still flocked to him, each hoping they’d be the one to change him.

She was no exception.

Sometimes, she found herself pathetic.

Mu Jinpei added one last bit of advice: “Know when to cut your losses.”

Back inside the auction hall, it was time for Xingyao 3 to be presented.

It was the painting’s public debut; its mystery finally unveiled on the big screen. Measuring 165.5 × 268.9 cm, the piece represented a series of “fragmented selves”—various sides of Ji Xingyao.

It was stunning.

Xie Yuncheng was also present at the auction. He said to his secretary, “No matter the price, win that painting.”

The secretary acknowledged and immediately messaged someone else. It wouldn’t be appropriate for Xie Yuncheng to bid under his real name, after all, the painting was represented by M.K. Gallery.

And M.K. Gallery was under M.K. Group. If he bid privately, people would assume he was inflating the value of his own company’s work.

Xingyao 3 started at 3 million. The bids quickly escalated.

Mu Jinpei kept his eyes glued to the screen, not missing a single detail. Every version of her in that painting was beautiful.

“How did you come up with the idea for this theme?” he asked.

Ji Xingyao also gazed at the painting displayed on the big screen. “Everyone has different sides—good and bad, kind and despicable. Devout, proud. Confident, insecure. Gentle, heartless. I thought it was interesting.”

Mu Jinpei suddenly found himself wanting that painting too—but with his identity, it wouldn’t be appropriate for him to bid.

“Xingyao 3” eventually sold for 18.9 million.

As the auctioneer dropped the gravel, the room erupted in applause.

Mu Jinpei asked Chu Zheng, “Who won the bid?”

Chu Zheng shook his head. “Don’t know them.”

Mu Jinpei turned to look at Ji Xingyao. She was busy using her calculator app, working out how much she’d earn from the sale. Subtracting the commission and taxes—every step was calculated precisely, down to the decimals.

Mu Jinpei reached out and rubbed the top of her head. Ji Xingyao looked up, slightly dazed. She quickly shielded her phone screen with her hand and laughed at herself. “What did you see?”

“Nothing at all,” Mu Jinpei said softly. He rarely saw this sweet and adorable side of her. If not for this moment, he would have forgotten—she was only 21. She could still be childish, could still get excited over calculating how much money she’d make from a painting sale.

He leaned down and kissed her.

Ji Xingyao nudged him with her elbow in protest. “There are so many people.”

Mu Jinpei sat up, then took her hand and intertwined their fingers.

The auction was split into morning and afternoon sessions, with a one-hour break for lunch at the hotel buffet.

Xie Yuncheng had already acquired the piece he wanted and wasn’t planning to stay for the afternoon. As soon as the morning session ended, he left directly, skipping lunch.

Tang Jiale was waiting for him downstairs. It wasn’t until they were less than five meters apart that he noticed her. His eyes narrowed slightly—he seemed annoyed.

Tang Jiale stood with her hands in her coat pockets, quietly looking at the man in front of her. Only her knew how hard the past few months had been since their breakup.

That kind of bone-deep longing tortured her every day. She tried burying herself in work—even worked overtime during holidays, but every time she came home alone in the middle of the night, she would still think of him.

She’d considered dating someone new. Why humiliate myself by chasing someone who doesn’t want me? But no one else ever made her heart flutter.

She felt hopeless.

Even though Mu Jinpei had told her multiple times that she and Xie Yuncheng had no future, she still couldn’t let go.

So here she was. She guessed he wouldn’t stay for lunch.

They stood in silence for a few seconds. Just as Xie Yuncheng was about to walk past her, he stopped.

Tang Jiale secretly breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t one for pleasantries, and today he wore all black—a black shirt and a black trench coat.

The pressure radiating from him was suffocating.

She looked at him. “It’s been a while.”

Xie Yuncheng didn’t waste time on small talk. “What do you want?”

Tang Jiale hesitated, voice lacking confidence. “It was my fault that day. I shouldn’t have hung up without letting you explain.”

Xie Yuncheng replied flatly, “Got it. That’s all?”

He had likely been the one to purchase “Xingyao 3” today. He rarely attended auctions in person, and the fact that he had stayed in Beijing this long made her want to end their cold war.

Maybe… maybe she’d been too aggressive. Maybe she didn’t know how to compromise.

She looked at him. “Xie Yuncheng, did you miss me?” She used all the courage she had left.

Xie Yuncheng suddenly laughed—softly.

The fingers in Tang Jiale’s pocket curled tightly. Even a fool could hear the contempt in that laugh. She’d humiliated herself.

“‘Xingyao 3’—you weren’t the one who bought it?” she asked, clinging to one last shred of hope.

Xie Yuncheng answered casually, “I was.”

Then he said it all very clearly: “I bought that painting, but it has nothing to do with you. Don’t flatter yourself.”
“And for the record, I knew Ji Xingyao long before I met you. Back then she only painted still lifes—I wasn’t interested. Her teacher even invited me to her exhibit, but I didn’t go. Now I’m bidding on the ‘Xingyao’ series because they have artistic and investment value. What, did you think I was just doing it for fun?”

With that, he turned and walked away without a second glance.

A few steps later, he stopped again. “Don’t waste your time on me. I have a woman now. Broke up with another one not long ago.”

It felt like a bucket of ice water was dumped over her head. Tang Jiale shivered from the chill.

So, while she’d been longing for him day and night—he’d already had two other women.

He was already gone, but she stood at the hotel entrance, numb and dazed. Turns out, it had always been a one-sided fantasy.

She had become a joke.

Inside the hotel, Mu Jinpei held Ji Xingyao’s hand as they came out.

Ji Xingyao spotted Tang Jiale standing in the cold wind, staring blankly. “Sister Jiale!” she let go of Mu Jinpei’s hand and walked quickly over. “Why are you standing out here? Isn’t it cold?”

Tang Jiale snapped out of her trance. Even though she felt bitter to the core, she forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just waiting for someone from the office to drop something off. You already ate?”

“I’m not eating here. Too many people—you know I hate crowds.” Ji Xingyao gently touched her cheek. “Wait inside the lobby, or your face will get windburned.”

Tang Jiale’s nose stung with emotion. She wanted to hug Ji Xingyao but didn’t want anyone to see how broken she was. “Go on. Don’t keep President Mu waiting.”

Finally, some strength returned to her legs, and she slowly made her way toward the hotel lobby.

Mu Jinpei took one look at her and could already guess how cruel and sharp Xie Yuncheng’s words must have been. He didn’t understand why Tang Jiale was so stubbornly attached.

Inside the car, Ji Xingyao asked, “Are you busy this afternoon?”

Before Mu Jinpei could answer, she added, “If not, stay with me a bit longer. I passed my medical exam. I’ll be reporting to the training center next week.”

Mu Jinpei was doubtful—and clearly not thrilled. “You passed?”

Ji Xingyao: “…” Her face instantly fell, eyes shooting him a warning glare.

Mu Jinpei explained quickly, “I just mean… weren’t you still on meds before New Year? That stuff Dr. Luo prescribed?”

Ji Xingyao replied, “That wasn’t really a medical issue. I’m fine now.” Ever since moving in with him, everything has normalized. She slept early, woke up early, and hadn’t had any more insomnia.

She added, “Oh, right. I want to live at the training center to save time commuting. That way I can spend more time studying theory—and maybe even fit in some painting.”

Mu Jinpei didn’t even give her a chance to argue. “You’re not the one driving. You can study in the car. Come home at night.”