On the day of Gleam’s summer auction, an extraordinarily heavy rainstorm hit Yuchen.

The stairs leading into the subway station turned into waterfalls, and flood-relief supplies were piled high in parking lots. Under the torrential rain, the docks were entirely deserted, leaving only dark corrugated metal cargo containers to be pelted by the downpour with a relentless pitter-patter.

The meteorological bureau issued a red alert for severe rainstorms today. On the roads, buses plowed forward as if riding the wind and breaking the waves, while traffic police in raincoats helped citizens who had fallen into puddles while riding electric scooters. Children, held tightly in the arms of adults, looked down curiously at the floodwaters that reached past the adults’ calves.

Yuchen’s urban drainage system was already quite excellent, but it still couldn’t withstand heaven’s ruthlessness.

Zhang Miao looked at the exhibition hall with a worried frown. Xiao Chen asked her what was wrong, and she pointed it out: “The walls are so damp they’re peeling.”

Xiao Chen glanced over: “There’s nothing we can do. Next door, a lot of Shao Heng’s coffee beans have gone moldy too.”

There truly was nothing to be done. Zhang Miao gave her makeup a final touch-up, preparing to leave for the auction venue shortly. She snapped her powder compact shut, looked up at the second floor, and murmured, “Still not coming down… what time is it already?”

Xiao Chen smiled and said, “But speaking of which, President Xiao from Gleam really takes good care of our boss, even going so far as to send a tie over…”

Right then, Xiao Chen was holding the tie that someone from Gleam had delivered early in the morning. It was a deep burgundy purple with subtle silver thread patterns, completely lacking care labels or brand tags, looking entirely like a custom-tailored piece.

Zhang Miao smiled but didn’t say a word.

Xiao Chen continued, “Sister, do you think President Xiao is interested in our boss? I think they’re quite a good match. Even though President Xiao is 33 this year, he looks really young. Do you think rich people are just really good at skincare maintenance?”

Zhang Miao was checking her bag for a power bank, invitations, and other essentials, humoring Xiao Chen’s chatter: “Yeah, of course. Just look at billionaires all over the world; who among them doesn’t look radiant?”

“True, true.” Xiao Chen smacked her fist into her palm, feeling she hit the nail on the head. “Who knows, President Xiao might even put on face masks every night after getting off work!”

The moment Xiao Chen finished speaking, she caught sight of a slender figure already coming downstairs. One hand resting on the stair rail, dressed in a set of light cream loungewear, he was staring at her coldly.

Because, at that very moment, a sheet mask was plastered squarely across his face.

Zhang Miao, someone who never minded things getting a little chaotic, watched the show unfold. Xiao Chen had just casually gossiped about whether Xiao Jingwen used face masks, and the very next second, her boss came down the stairs wearing one.

Zhang Miao deliberately yelled Xiao Chen’s full name: “Wow, Liao Chenxing! Aren’t you a bit too rigid in your thinking? Wearing a face mask is a lifestyle attitude! Skincare is everyone’s freedom!”

Xiao Chen was shocked: “No! Boss! I didn’t mean it like that—”

Lin Congzhi turned around in silence and went back upstairs.

He returned to the second-floor bathroom, staring stiff-faced at himself in the mirror… then ruthlessly ripped off the mask, threw it into the trash can, and frustratedly rubbed his head a few times—what on earth was he doing!

He took a breath to steady himself. His complexion had looked awful the past few days because of his illness. When his mom visited yesterday, she had left some skincare products here, explaining one by one which was hydrating and which was repairing. Lin Lingyu had said that two days of fever had left his face parched, so after waking up and washing up today, he had inexplicably grabbed a mask and slapped it on…

Although it wasn’t a big deal, he just had to be going to the auction today. It would be incredibly easy for someone to assume he was meticulously dressing up to see his ex-boyfriend.

It wasn’t until Zhang Miao came upstairs and knocked on his door that Lin Congzhi slowly cracked it open, peeking out stealthily: “I’ll be ready in a minute.”

Zhang Miao handed a paper bag through the crack and said, “Someone from President Xiao’s side came and delivered a tie for you. They said they didn’t know what kind of suit you’d be wearing today, but if it didn’t match, you could just treat it as an ordinary gift.”

“Oh.” Lin Congzhi took it.

Zhang Miao laughed, “You’re not feeling embarrassed, are you? It’s fine, Xiao Chen isn’t overthinking things.”

“I’m not.” Lin Congzhi pursed his lips.

The auction was held in Gleam headquarters’ largest conference hall. Before the event, however, Xiao Jingwen brought him somewhere else.

With four seasons a year and four auctions, every single one was of paramount importance. Xiao Jingwen would personally oversee every auction on-site, and sometimes he would even listen in on every telephone bidder’s line.

But this time, he had delegated most of the pre-show matters to his assistants. Shortly after he finished dealing with the more crucial parts himself, Lin Congzhi arrived. Xiao Jingwen had timed it perfectly, even factoring in the time Lin Congzhi would dawdle at the gallery.

Lin Congzhi was wearing the tie he had sent and was currently checking his invitation with the staff at the door.

“Wait a moment.” Xiao Jingwen walked over and stopped him. “It’s still early. Let’s go in a little later.”

Lin Congzhi glanced back at Zhang Miao. Noticing this, Xiao Jingwen said, “Miss Zhang won’t get lost.”

Over on her side, Miss Zhang gave two dry chuckles and said, “President Xiao, if anyone between the two of us is going to get lost, it’s him. It’s fine. If you don’t have time to bring him back, I’ll come out to get him.”

Today, all Gleam employees were exceptionally energetic. While working at Gleam entailed severe overtime, the compensation was substantial—highly substantial.

Following beside Xiao Jingwen, Lin Congzhi was already disoriented after taking a few turns down the corridors. A lady in formal business attire pressed the elevator button for them, expertly swiped her employee card over the elevator’s sensor, pressed the button for the 19th floor, and then exited the elevator car.

With only the two of them left in the elevator, Lin Congzhi quietly glanced at the man beside him and asked, “Where are we going?”

“The warehouse.”

“Is the warehouse on this floor?” Lin Congzhi blurted out. The last time he came with Yang Qingzhi, he remembered it hadn’t been the 19th floor.

“A different warehouse.”

“Such a massive enterprise.” Lin Congzhi commented.

“It’s alright,” Xiao Jingwen replied. “Just running a small business to make a living.”

Lin Congzhi turned to look at him directly, somewhat speechless, and then the elevator doors opened. The 19th floor seemed to be quite a critical level for Gleam; the moment the doors parted, they were greeted by two patrolling security guards, who nodded respectfully at Xiao Jingwen.

Lin Congzhi was indeed trusting of Xiao Jingwen, following him quietly without caring in the slightest where he was being taken. That earlier remark had been so ambiguous—what did “something only you can give me the answers to” even mean? What answer could he possibly give him? At most, he could probably advise Xiao Jingwen on how to handle chiaroscuro or how to render the texture of a stainless-steel still life.

Xiao Jingwen led him to what looked like a completely ordinary security door, pressed his fingerprint, leaned down for an iris scan, and then opened the door. Upon reading Xiao Jingwen’s fingerprint and iris, the alarm system automatically went into hibernation.

To be frank, before entering, Lin Congzhi hadn’t made any mental preparations. After all, this was Gleam; at most, Gleam’s warehouse would just hold some auction lots.

Click.

The lights flicked on. Xiao Jingwen said, “The oxygen level in here is a little low; you’ll get used to it in a moment.”

Lin Congzhi’s pupils instantly trembled—

The exquisitely soundproofed building blocked out the sudden clap of thunder outside. As the lights illuminated the room, Lin Congzhi’s field of vision was swamped by an endless expanse of auction lots. It wasn’t the sheer volume that left him stunned; it was the items themselves. These antiques, jewelry, calligraphy, paintings… even furniture. They were largely identical.

It was as if they had been copied and pasted—siblings born of the same mold. It felt like stumbling into some bizarre casting factory… nearly identical Qianlong vases, nearly identical Ru kiln bowls. That supposedly unique cloisonné piece that Yang Qingzhi had poached his buyer for? There were three of them right here. Even…

Lin Congzhi even saw the items for today’s auction.

Specifically, the antique jewelry that had caused the entire exhibition hall to change its background music when it appeared at last week’s preview.

No, strictly speaking, it was a necklace exceedingly similar to that top-priced auction lot.

He walked over and looked inside through the glass display case.

“Isn’t this…”

Xiao Jingwen: “In 1926, a European jeweler crafted a colorful gemstone necklace for the Indian royal family. They used emeralds, unheated pigeon-blood rubies, yellow sapphires, and blue sapphires to fashion the shapes of grapes, pomegranates, and flowers, blessing them with bountiful harvests year after year.”

Lin Congzhi shook his head: “N-no, there are a total of…”

“Three sets,” Xiao Jingwen finished. “Necklace, ring, and tiara. Look up.”

Lin Congzhi looked up.

He had been so shocked just a moment ago that he had overlooked the display shelf above. Inside identical glass cases rested tiaras from the exact same collection.

This meant that the necklace with a starting bid of 35 million yuan at the upcoming summer auction wasn’t one of a kind. At the very least, an almost identical sister from the same lineage sat right here.

“This is Gleam’s true warehouse.” Xiao Jingwen looked at him calmly, then at the display shelves, and said, “Tell me, why can artworks fetch prices in the millions or tens of millions? Because they possess rarity, even uniqueness. So, what did I do? I bought up all the similar, competitive works—even those by the exact same artist—selected one lucky winner, placed it in the auction, and bestowed uniqueness upon it.”

“In fact, the one I selected might not even be the most flawless or of the highest quality,” Xiao Jingwen continued. “With antiques and artwork, a few scars and a bit of history give them more charm.”

As he spoke, Xiao Jingwen raised his hand and opened the glass case, adding, “What cloisonné gilded stupa? You think I’m afraid of Yang Qingzhi? There isn’t a single person in this industry I fear. For any piece auctioned by me, a second similar piece will not appear for ten years.”

Without wearing gloves, he lifted the antique out as casually as if he were picking up a stainless-steel chain. It used a traditional knot clasp; Xiao Jingwen unfastened it with practiced ease and then turned to face Lin Congzhi.

Lin Congzhi looked stunning today. Having used a sheet mask, his skin was radiant and hydrated. He was wearing his favorite suit, paired with the tie Xiao Jingwen had gifted him.

This antique necklace perfectly matched the Indian royal family’s pursuit of ‘nobility’—it was brilliantly colored, opulent, and magnificent as Xiao Jingwen held it open by the ends. The large cluster of gemstone pendants rested directly against his chest as Xiao Jingwen secured the knot clasp at the back of his neck, then adjusted his suit collar.

Then, Xiao Jingwen scrutinized him and the necklace, saying, “So beautiful.”

Lin Congzhi didn’t dare move. He had an astronomical antique hanging around his neck, and he had no idea why Xiao Jingwen insisted on placing it there. If this thing were dropped or chipped, regardless of whether Xiao Jingwen made him pay for it, he would wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night just dreaming about it.

Lin Congzhi looked at him in bewilderment: “You… take it off me.”

“Don’t move.”

“As if I’d dare.”

It was exactly because he didn’t dare move that he stood there like a mannequin, watching helplessly as Xiao Jingwen reached up to grab the tiara from the upper shelf.

Pieces from the same collection, identical gemstones, characterized by bold and vibrant styles. Lin Congzhi was incredibly thankful he had washed his hair meticulously today and even applied hair oil, because Xiao Jingwen placed that tiara right onto his head…

A recent conversation with Xiao Jingwen echoed in his mind—

Starting bid is 35 million. What do you think the hammer price will be?At least 60 million.

So at this very moment, his head and neck could buy a yacht.

And it wasn’t over. Xiao Jingwen turned around, took two steps, opened another glass case, and pulled out an 8.01-carat oval-cut pigeon-blood ruby ring. He lifted Lin Congzhi’s right hand—his fingers were a bit slender—and finally slipped it onto his index finger.

He finally understood: in Xiao Jingwen’s eyes, this wasn’t an auction house warehouse at all. It was his walk-in closet.

“…” Lin Congzhi remained perfectly still, practically squeezing the words through his teeth, “Enough.”

Xiao Jingwen nodded: “That’s about it. This is a complete set. There isn’t a single auction house in the world that can produce a full set like this.”

“Nonsense.” Lin Congzhi glared at him. “If I lose my footing in a second, you won’t be able to produce a full set either.”

Xiao Jingwen chuckled, stepping to his side. He pressed his palm lightly against his back, guiding him forward.

But Lin Congzhi was afraid to walk; he didn’t dare take a single step—this was genuinely getting absurd. It wasn’t just a matter of price, but of how precious they were. The feeling was no different from being asked to casually carry a Van Gogh painting around.

So Xiao Jingwen supported his right hand like a loyal attendant, having him rest it upon his wrist, half-embracing him as they walked toward a full-length mirror in the warehouse.

The Lin Congzhi in the mirror was rigid yet exquisitely beautiful. With pale skin and his hand resting on Xiao Jingwen’s, he looked like a delicate ball-jointed resin doll.

Xiao Jingwen stared at the Lin Congzhi in the mirror with infatuation. He curled his fingers, tracing the air just beside the hair along Lin Congzhi’s profile. He didn’t touch his skin, acting like a pervert caressing the air hovering over it.

“Look how beautiful they are on you,” Xiao Jingwen murmured. “I bought them up to forge ‘uniqueness’ for that one necklace out there at the auction. So what are these considered now? Sacrifices? Props?”

Lin Congzhi couldn’t speak, because he had no answer.

This wasn’t a ‘question only you can answer’ at all.

Xiao Jingwen went on: “For the sake of that single auction piece out there—despite sharing the same jeweler, the same craftsmanship, and the same royal provenance—these have to sit in this sunless warehouse for ten, twenty years. So, Teacher Lin, tell me…”

His hand, which had been caressing the air next to Lin Congzhi’s face, stopped near his chin. Although they hadn’t touched at all, it felt as intensely intimate as a passionate act of love.

“Tell me… what exactly is an artwork?”

Lin Congzhi found he barely knew how to breathe.