“You’re drinking a bit heavily tonight.” Jing Deyu’s scalp tingled. He was afraid Lai Li might lose it while also unable to resist gossiping. “You didn’t confess and get rejected, did you? I saw Little Song go back to find you later.”
Lai Li wasn’t averse to alcohol, but he rarely drank himself into oblivion without restraint. In his own words, getting blackout drunk in public was no different from suicide.
This made the common ploy of getting someone drunk and into bed utterly ineffective on him. Trying to pour him a drink was even more impossible—the bottle cap wasn’t even off before the table flipped.
Jing Deyu couldn’t resist teasing. “Though they say you shouldn’t covet your friend’s wife, I don’t feel like you like her that much anyway. Since she rejected you, why not let your brother scout the way? What if I pry open her heart and open new windows to her world? Then you might have a shot. Don’t worry! With our years of friendship, I definitely won’t mind you poaching from my corner…”
After chattering on for a while without hearing Lai Li invite him for another round of fresh brew, Jing Deyu curiously glanced at him. He found the man staring in a certain direction, so he looked over too. Sure enough, there was the “lone wild goose.”
Lai Li raised his glass and clinked it against his lips, as if he hadn’t heard Jing Deyu’s long, impassioned speech.
Jing Deyu: “Tch.”
Lai Li had joined the Dai Family at ten and formally entered the debauched circle of young elites at sixteen. Even back then, his suitors weren’t few. Who could resist his delinquent vibe that captivated boys and girls alike during puberty, combined with the nobility nurtured by Dai Linxuan’s golden sands?
That nobility diluted the punkish yellow-hair feel, lending him a flavor best described as—untamed and defiant.
Whenever he went out, he would sit there aloof, his deep eyes shadowed by sword-like brows sweeping into his temples. He rarely looked anyone in the eye directly, at most flicking up his eyelids for a cursory glance that dripped with arrogant sharpness.
It easily provoked others’ tempers while irresistibly tempting them to strip him bare and explore.
For the young masters and misses born with silver spoons, the desire to conquer was innate, etched into their DNA. Lai Li wasn’t originally from their circle, yet fate had thrust him in—a perfect prey with his own backstory.
Like a handsome, icy wild snake, its venom’s depth unknown, drawing countless foolish hunters who didn’t know their place.
Huo Family’s youngest son, Huo Fei, had been just like that. He’d nearly been played to death by Lai Li before those subtle feelings fizzled out, turning into brotherly camaraderie.
But Jing Deyu had been fortunate enough to see Lai Li in front of Dai Linxuan—stripped bare, snake belly exposed, venomous fangs vanished, like a domesticated pet snake with a name tag: harmless and obedient.
At this moment, that pet snake stared at its master’s back, baring hidden fangs and licking them lightly. Whether reining in the instinct to constrict and kill or biding time to unleash deadly poison, who could say?
“You…”
Jing Deyu was about to say something when a sneaky figure appeared in his peripheral vision. It crept along the wall for ages before suddenly darting to their seats. The moment he sat, he remembered his image—tugging at his collar, slicking back his hair, releasing a whiff of tobacco perfume.
The flamboyance was practically overflowing.
Jing Deyu asked with exasperation, “How’d your family let you out in that outfit?”
“My sis is back; they’re too busy to mind me.” It was Huo Fei, strutting like a peacock on a legal parade. “Did you miss me, Young Master Lai?”
“Miss your dad.”
“Your tastes have gotten that heavy lately?” Huo Fei feigned shock. “Repression really turns people perverted, huh?”
A vein jumped on Lai Li’s wrist as he thought of someone else.
Huo Fei went, “Hey, after the auction, wanna meet my sis?”
Lai Li slowly turned his head, staring at Huo Fei.
Had he gotten it wrong? Huo Shuang’s target wasn’t his brother?
Huo Fei persuaded earnestly, “As the saying goes, men grow up to marry, women to be wed. At our brothers’ and sisters’ age, if there’s no one special, it’s time to consider marriage—especially for your brother. He’s the rightful heir, sure, but with all those wolves and tigers around, he needs external alliances…”
Lai Li grew impatient. “Get to the point.”
“Got it.” Huo Fei straightened up. “Do you want a big sister-in-law?”
Lai Li stared at him fixedly for a good while.
Huo Fei’s heart grew uneasy, memories of past pitfalls fresh.
Normally, no need to consult the little brother on big brother’s marriage, but Dai Linxuan was a dark lord, and Lai Li was an unreasonable mad dog of a brother-con.
Jing Deyu marveled with a tsk-tsk. “Your family wants to ally with the Dai Family through marriage?”
Huo Fei assented proudly.
Lai Li slowly withdrew his gaze, looking toward the distant figure.
Sister-in-law.
The two words slithered into Lai Li’s ears like mist, coating his eardrums. Surrounding sounds turned tidal, damply flooding his brain.
Huo Fei was listing his sister’s merits.
Huo Fei subtly indicated his sister wouldn’t mind Dai Linxuan spoiling his little brother post-marriage.
Jing Deyu chimed in supportively that they were indeed a perfect match—talented man, beautiful woman, or vice versa.
As a little brother, having a sister-in-law was inevitable sooner or later.
Lai Li recalled meeting Huo Shuang two hours ago. Nice looks, nice temperament, nice family background, some intentions, no threat.
But…
“—Congratulations to Miss Huo on acquiring this lot!”
The auctioneer’s gavel dispersed the haze. Lai Li replied, “Any woman will do.”
Huo Fei blinked. “What?”
“As long as it’s a woman my brother likes, no scandals—” Lai Li glanced at him calmly, “I’ll tolerate even if I loathe her.”
Huo Fei opened his mouth, wanting to say his sister had no scandals—just a rebellious youth, now matured—but an inexplicable discomfort stopped him.
The previous lot ended at eight hundred thousand amid lukewarm vibes.
Then, the auctioneer stepped forward with a smile. “Next, we present a one-of-a-kind treasure to you all. Its owner reluctantly parted with it at the last minute, so it’s not in our catalog. It is— the final work of renowned jewelry designer Hess Bailey before her passing!”
The guests below murmured in surprise, whispering to companions.
The auctioneer teased, “Please take a short break, gentlemen; the item will be presented shortly.”
Jing Deyu’s mouth formed an O. “Did you guys know about this?”
Lai Li’s gaze returned to Dai Linxuan. Too far, too many people in between—he couldn’t see the reaction.
Huo Fei questioned, “What?”
“Hess Bailey, one of the most famous jewelry designers.” Jing Deyu’s family was in the jewelry business, so he knew a bit. “Three years ago, she was diagnosed with liver cancer. No new works until her confirmed death last year, so the ‘Twilight’ set she designed before illness became her most valuable collection.”
“I know.” Lai Li lowered his eyelids, sipping his drink slowly. “She was my brother’s die-hard fan.”
Jing Deyu froze mid-sip, shocked enough to forget drinking. “How come I didn’t know? Hess was fifty when she died, and your brother’s only thirty now. She…”
“Not that kind of thing between man and woman.” Lai Li lifted his glass to his lips, paused, then set it down. “That crazy woman thought everything visible and invisible in the world belonged to ‘art,’ including people. My brother was God’s most perfect creation to her.”
Artists often had that mad purity, unbound by age—everyone a muse, regardless of fit or consent.
“I object!” Huo Fei said seriously. “Ours isn’t under God’s domain.”
Lai Li: “…”
Jing Deyu chuckled, then puzzled, “If I recall right, the full ‘Twilight’ set is with Yan Luan. She wore it on the red carpet last year and isn’t here today…”
He suddenly remembered something and slapped his thigh. “I got it! A couple years back, my mom mentioned a rumor—Hess designed one more piece during her cancer treatment, a private commission, never revealed.”
Other guests were curious too. During the break, some inquired, others went straight to Dai Linxuan, bending to whisper.
Whoever approached, Dai Linxuan didn’t stand.
This rare “arrogant” posture from him surprised many. But from the back, his mood was unreadable.
Lai Li shifted his gaze to the large screen changing images.
Hess’s final work appeared—a simple ring.
Not that the design was plain, but rings as items were ordinary compared to full sets or brooches/cufflinks in collectible value.
Still, the ring’s form was beautiful: silvery base gleaming snow-white, flanked by a black snake biting its own tail. Normally, diamonds went atop for beauty and comfort, but this one’s ultra-rare black diamond was in the snake’s head. Unless worn crooked, it’d jab the adjacent finger—like a venomous fang constantly threatening.
“Regarding this ring’s inspiration, Lady Hess said little in life, but the owner holds the full design blueprints, proving authenticity. Bid with confidence, everyone.”
Hosted by the Dai Family, its provenance was ironclad. But the “last-minute addition” sparked prying interest—the collector was likely present.
Jing Deyu even stood, scanning reactions. “Who is it?”
Lai Li swirled his glass, peering through at his bare knuckles.
Huo Fei smacked his lips. “Lemme think—which little darling likes this style…”
Jing Deyu had no hopes. “You’re just hype at best. As Hess’s last work, tons will want it. Even snagging it for face is a win. If my mom were here, she’d…”
His phone rang mid-sentence—”Queen Adult” on the display.
“…Damn.” Jing Deyu answered. “Mom?”
After a bit, he hung up, inhaled deeply, and said excitedly, unable to hide it, “Mom gave me a twenty-million budget to snag it. Excess is my pocket money!”
“Your mom’s intel is too fast.” Huo Fei wisely bowed out. “I’ll sit this one out. Old Man Huo’s up front; spending eight figures on a ring would get me flayed into pork shreds.”
“Starting bid’s only a hundred thousand, increments no less than fifty thousand. No idiot’s dropping eight figures.” Jing Deyu fantasized blissfully. “Even at five million, I’d have one point five left…”
Though the Jing Family ranked top three in Danshi wealth, Jing Deyu rarely got to splurge. Even sports cars needed endless approvals; pocket money was tight.
As expected, bidders for the ring were plentiful. The atmosphere heated up fast, prices soaring.
“Seventy thousand!”
“Seventy-five thousand!”
“Eighty thousand!”
Huo Shuang called calmly, “One million.”
“One point two million!” Jing Deyu shouted, then whispered to Huo Fei, “Tell your sis to give face and drop out? Leave me more pocket change.”
Huo Fei hesitated. His sister had a mission today—bidding wasn’t for love but to reshape her image via the charity auction. For a Dai alliance, she couldn’t just be the rebellious heiress who’d chased music abroad for twelve years.
Hess’s works carried innate buzz, aligning perfectly.
But with Madam Jing’s twenty-million budget, Huo Fei texted his sister: Madam Jing wants this ring. Your call.
Likely seeing it, Huo Shuang stopped bidding. No point jacking the price if doomed to lose—it’d sour faces.
Yet some clueless fool was determined: “Two million!”
Jing Deyu: “Two point one million!”
The other called coolly, “Three million.”
“Fuck, which idiot’s bidding like that!” Jing Deyu slammed the table. “Who is that?”
Huo Fei glanced. “New face, out-of-towner probably.”
Jing Deyu fumed and upped coldly: “Three point one million!”
“Four million!”
“Dumbass newbie, fresh-off-demolition nouveau riche!” Jing Deyu laughed angrily. “Four million for a ring?”
Huo Fei stifled a grin. “Your mom’s dropping twenty million.”
“My family is in the jewelry business—how could it be the same!” Jing Deyu said irritably. “Besides, my mom definitely didn’t plan to spend all twenty million; she was just using this as an excuse to give me some pocket money.”
During his words, someone else raised the bid by another hundred thousand.
Jing Deyu numbly raised his paddle: “Five million.”
The unfamiliar nouveau riche bidder shouted, “Six million!”
Jing Deyu was so angry he wanted to smash his glass.
Many people who knew Jing Deyu had already guessed that his family wanted this ring and had stopped bidding early. Only this nouveau riche with poor eyesight was still competing.
Jing Deyu ground his teeth and was just about to continue when an unexpected voice rang out in the hall: “Eight million.”
The previously listless Lai Li finally lifted his gaze and looked toward the bidder—Dai Linxuan.
“Fuck!” Jing Deyu was completely stunned. “Why is your brother getting involved? If he wanted it, why didn’t he block it backstage? This ring isn’t even in the catalog anyway…”
Lai Li narrowed his eyes and said emotionlessly, “Because he doesn’t know.”
“He doesn’t know?” Confusion flashed in Jing Deyu’s eyes, followed by shocked wide-open mouth. “This ring was added ‘temporarily’ so even your brother didn’t get the notice?”
In theory, the organizers needed to verify the authenticity and provenance of every auction item, which wasn’t a quick process—unless they had known about this ring in advance and had all the details clear.
Huo Fei keenly sensed something and gave Lai Li a thoughtful glance.
Once Dai Linxuan bid eight million, not only did the previous nouveau riche bidder quiet down, but Jing Deyu was also put in a tough spot, unsure if he should go head-to-head with Dai Linxuan over a single ring.
Lai Li waved over a passing server and ordered another drink.
The auctioneer called, “Eight million once, eight million twice…”
Lai Li tilted his head back, the spicy liquor pouring into his mouth. His obscure gaze clashed briefly with the fragmented lights through the glass. As the last drop slid down his throat, the empty glass slammed heavily onto the table—
“Eight hundred and five thousand.”
The room fell silent at once, even the auctioneer stunned for a moment. Everyone there knew the relationship between Lai Li and Dai Linxuan; they all thought unanimously, “Has this ancestor finally gone too far and started clashing with his own adoptive parents?”
Huo Fei lowered his head in shock and asked, “What are you doing?”
Lai Li ignored him, staring fixedly at the back of Dai Linxuan’s head as if trying to bore a hole through it.
The auctioneer glanced at Lai Li, then at Dai Linxuan, and hesitantly announced, “Eight hundred and five thousand once, eight hundred and five thousand twice, eight hundred—”
Dai Linxuan spoke up: “Nine million.”
Lai Li brushed off Huo Fei’s attempts to dissuade him and continued bidding: “Nine hundred and five thousand.”
Another long silence followed. Dai Linxuan sat at a round table in the first row; most people could only see his back and had no idea what expression he wore or what he was thinking.
A moment later, he raised his paddle again: “Ten million.”
Lai Li showed no sign of restraint, pressing relentlessly: “Ten million and five thousand.”
Jing Deyu grabbed his hair, sent a message to his mother explaining the situation, and decided to bow out. His instincts hadn’t been wrong—this mad dog next to him had been holding back his madness, but this time even the one holding the leash got bitten.
Huo Fei said sympathetically, “If you can’t go home lately, call me ‘Dad’ and I might reluctantly take you in.”
Everyone felt Lai Li had gone too far. He lived so arrogantly solely thanks to Dai Linxuan, yet now he was publicly slapping Dai Linxuan’s face—utterly ungrateful and heartless.
Dai Linxuan raised his paddle once more: “Twelve million.”
Lai Li withdrew his gaze and said nothing more.
The farce ended abruptly like that, leaving everyone unsatisfied. It was like choking on a fishbone halfway through a meal—neither swallowing nor spitting it out, just a sense of anticlimax.
But these two half-brothers from the Dai Family had finally clashed openly. Tomorrow’s headlines would probably be lively.
Lai Li stood up and casually pulled a pack of cigarettes from Huo Fei’s pocket: “Don’t follow me.”
He left the hall under everyone’s watchful eyes, the auctioneer’s voice growing fainter behind him: “Twelve million once! Twelve million twice! Twelve million three times! Congratulations…”
Lai Li wandered aimlessly and unknowingly ended up on the building’s terrace. The wind whipped his hair like knives across his face. He lit a cigarette, cupping his hands; the lighter clicked, and smoke quickly blurred his eyes.
“Cough cough—”
Lai Li didn’t smoke much and bent over choking. Only after a while did he straighten up. In the haze of smoke, he spread his hand; the knuckle of his distinct middle finger had a ring of skin noticeably whiter than the surrounding area.
An hour earlier, He Si’s final piece had been right there.
That ring had been the last gift Dai Linxuan gave Lai Li before going abroad—very ordinary. He probably felt pleased when he received it, but Lai Li couldn’t remember.
Yet with the ring had come Dai Linxuan’s inexplicable abandonment, leaving him abroad for two years. Over seven hundred days and nights of waiting had imbued that ordinary gift with special meaning, brewing a prickling pain.
Lai Li bit down on the cigarette filter, but it was the tip of his tongue that curled inward.
