Chapter 80: The Kiss of Venus

Su Ci could tell that Li Huan hadn’t been deeply affected by that incident; her own guilt gradually dissipated. Su Ci was not a particularly eloquent girl—she possessed a certain youthful aloofness—but in front of Li Huan, Sun Feifei, and Li Ruotong, she appeared far more docile, without the airs of a pampered heiress.

Their conversation had barely begun when the live jewelry show started. The first to appear was a tall foreign model, nearly six feet in height, with a perfectly proportioned figure—not overly thin, but boasting a well-shaped bust. Her skin was dazzlingly white under the lights, making the string of translucent rubies around her neck gleam with extraordinary brilliance.

Jewelry enhances a woman’s aura; such exquisite adornments, draped around a slender, beautiful neck, exude a noble elegance and dignity, creating a picture of unparalleled beauty that inspires boundless longing.

Next came a domestic supermodel, whom Li Huan recognized instantly—not for any other reason than the countless nights during his university days when the goddess with her astonishing G-cup had provided him with both visual and physiological stimulation.

As expected, the moment she stepped onto the stage, the audience erupted in exclamations. The fullness and bounce of her chest drew the eyes of countless men, leaving them parched and wide-eyed. Such a woman was the object of every man’s desire—to hold her close and indulge in her charms. Alas, women like her belonged only to a select few; wealth alone was no guarantee of access.

Perhaps her formidable assets overshadowed the brilliance of the jewelry she wore; it wasn’t until she turned around that Li Huan realized he had forgotten to admire the jewels she was displaying, though they must have been valuable as well.

The jewelry show lasted barely ten minutes—a brief performance showcasing nine pieces in total. The nine models lined up on stage, their tall figures, sensual legs, and busts of varying sizes (all well above average) providing a feast for the eyes.

At this moment, Qiu Ze reappeared. Staff arranged a table, and Qiu Ze spoke a few words before having the servers distribute a bidding list to each guest. Then, a master auctioneer from Zhonghai’s Fatal Auction House was invited to the stage.

It was clear this was more than a runway show—it was an auction carefully orchestrated in advance. No wonder so many of Zhonghai’s elite had been invited, most of them women. This, surely, was Qiu Ze’s marketing strategy: using a small number of rare, high-quality jewels to break into high society, leveraging celebrities’ competitive instincts to quickly attract a wealthy clientele, and then gradually expanding to seize a share of the domestic jewelry market.

Bidding is always exhilarating: the constant raising of prices, the pounding of the auctioneer’s gavel, all stir the competitive spirit. A piece that starts at a million might end up selling for five or six times, even ten times its value. Among the super-rich, such sums are not unheard of, driven by the quest for prestige rather than any real intention to flaunt a million-dollar jewel daily.

The first item up for auction was a refined, luxurious necklace named Venus’s Kiss. Its pendant was set with a gem-quality emerald jadeite, intricately carved with a miniature Venus, the overall hue tending towards blue, roughly the size of a thumbnail. The starting bid was one million.

The necklace was exquisitely crafted, its design uniquely elegant, exuding aristocratic opulence and grandeur. A starting price of one million was well below market value; what the final price would be, no one could say.

Among the nine pieces, only this necklace was made of emerald jadeite, positioned first for auction—sure to attract fierce bidding. This, too, was a marketing tactic: as the evening progressed, prices would only climb higher, ensuring Qiu Ze would earn a fortune by night’s end.

“This jadeite comes from Burmese stone, painstakingly crafted by European royal jewelry designer Mr. Robert over one month. Starting at one million, minimum increment of a hundred thousand. Let the bidding begin…” The auctioneer took out the necklace for display, then switched on the LED screen behind him, showing four pictures of Venus’s Kiss from different angles.

“One and a half million!” No sooner had he finished than someone raised a paddle: a middle-aged, balding man, holding a young woman in his arms, barely in her twenties with a doll-like face and exceptional beauty. Even more striking were the spectacular curves of her chest—so impressive that Sun Feifei and Li Ruotong could only sigh in admiration.

A youthful face paired with an extraordinary bust—the stuff of men’s dreams. Nestled in the balding man’s lap like a docile kitten, she occasionally picked a cherry from the plate and fed it to his mouth, though he could easily have been her father.

Li Huan swallowed secretly, full of envy, his mind drifting to Han Xuemie. Among all the beauties he knew, only Han Xuemie’s figure surpassed this girl’s, and she too had a doll-like face.

An increment of half a million was no small feat; clearly, the man was a wealthy businessman. After his bid, the crowd fell silent, considering whether to raise the price further. The girl in his lap, meanwhile, gazed at him adoringly, pursed her pink lips, and planted a kiss on his oily face.

Unable to watch any longer, Li Huan turned away. Beside him, Su Ci was intently examining the four jadeite photos on the LED screen, her eyes shining—she seemed to really like the necklace.

Even Sun Feifei and Li Ruotong appeared somewhat eager, though neither showed any intention of bidding. Then a calm voice sounded—a man’s, not loud, likely a young man.

“One-point-eight million!” Another thirty thousand added, now exceeding the market value. But at auction, any item might surpass its highest worth; otherwise, how would the auction house profit?

The voice sounded familiar. Watching as an observer, Li Huan was intrigued by the competition and glanced in that direction, seeing only a profile.

He had some impression of the man, though he couldn’t see his face to place him. Su Ci seemed to notice, too; she lifted her head and glanced over, frowning. Her earlier longing for the jadeite necklace vanished.

“Two million!” Another bid, this time from a woman. The voice came from behind, prompting many to turn and see who it was.

Li Huan, Sun Feifei, and Li Ruotong all heard the woman’s voice and paused, turning their heads in unison. They saw Emerald walk over, her gaze sweeping the room. Catching Li Huan’s eye, she offered a faint smile and strode forward, drawing the attention of most present—her elegance and composure enough to captivate.

Li Ruotong snapped her fingers and pointed to this spot; a server promptly brought over a chair and a bidding booklet.

Emerald’s arrival sparked a flurry of whispers: her influence in Zhonghai was considerable, and the city’s elite were well aware of her status in the underworld. While few feared her, even fewer dared to underestimate her.

Emerald had a particular fondness for jadeite jewelry—her name alone made that clear. With her participation, this auction would be exceptionally exciting; Li Huan felt sure the necklace would fetch a sky-high price tonight.

The balding man’s face twitched; he straightened up, glanced at Emerald, and snorted coldly, raising his paddle to two-point-four million.

The young man followed suit, though more cautiously, increasing the bid by only ten thousand.

Emerald sat and greeted Sun Feifei and Li Ruotong, even nodding slightly to Su Ci, but pointedly ignored Li Huan. He’d hoped for a friendly exchange, but seeing Emerald’s indifference, he refrained from forcing the issue.

“This jadeite is excellent,” Emerald seemed to mutter to herself. When someone raised the price to two-point-five million, she scoffed and, lips curling, announced a figure that surprised everyone.

Three-point-five million!

A million raised in one go—enough to buy the jadeite outright. The move sparked lively discussion; even the balding man, previously determined, looked uncomfortable, his face flushed. After much hesitation, he snorted and withdrew from the bidding.

“Three-point-five million, once…” The auctioneer spoke at the right moment, his gavel landing with a dull thud. The entire gala fell silent, unusually so.

After seven or eight seconds, the auctioneer deliberately lengthened the pause, then struck again, this time more briskly: “Three-point-five million, twice!”

“Four million…” Just as the third strike was about to fall, the young man called out another bid and stood, glancing in this direction.