Chapter 35: The Inverted Jenny
"With the support of friends from all sectors, the 'Angels in Action' charity initiative has officially launched. My deepest gratitude goes to all who have contributed." Shen Dongze bowed deeply. "I must clarify that I am merely the organizer. Without Oriental International's substantial backing, this project would never have taken flight. Tonight, we are honored to have Ms. Lin Peishan, Chairwoman and CEO of Oriental International, with us. Would Ms. Lin grace us with a few words?"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd as eyes turned to Lin Peishan. Many had heard of her but never imagined the corporate titan to be so young and striking.
A flicker of unease crossed her features before she ascended the podium under the escort of an attendant. Shen Dongze retreated gracefully, his gaze lingering with calculated intensity.
Lin Peishan's clear voice carried across the hall. "Charity is action, not rhetoric. Thus, I'll be brief: The difference between a good company and a great one lies in this—a good company provides excellent products and services. A great company does the same while striving to make the world better."
She returned to her seat amid stunned silence. The brevity of her speech left guests exchanging bewildered glances—some interpreting it as arrogance, others as refreshing pragmatism.
Shen Dongze signaled the flustered hostess, who revived the program with forced cheer. "Ladies and gentlemen, we now proceed to tonight's charity auction! All proceeds will benefit 'Angels in Action.' Please welcome our first item!"
A velvet-draped golden tray arrived. The host unveiled it dramatically, revealing four pristine stamps that drew collective gasps.
"Behold the 'Inverted Jenny'—among the world's rarest stamps!" The hostess sparkled with practiced enthusiasm. "Issued in 1918 as America's first airmail stamp, its centerplane design was accidentally printed upside-down. Only 100 exist globally, earning it the title 'King of American Stamps.' This quartet starts at 300,000,withincrementsnolessthan300,000,withincrementsnolessthan10,000."
The elite murmured—some recognizing the philatelic holy grail, others marveling at Shen Dongze's connections. Yet the initial bid hung in limbo, wealthy patrons hesitating to break the ice.
Lin Peishan whispered tautly, "Bid for me. I must have these."
Ye Chenghuan raised an eyebrow. "Thought I was playing mute? Auction's real money, you know. Why burn cash on paper scraps? Give me the funds—I'll buy you a truckload of stamps."
Her eyes narrowed. "Now."
As the hostess resorted to emotional appeals—"These were Mr. Shen's personal treasures, acquired at great cost for this noble cause!"—a languid voice cut through the tension.
"One million."
Heads swiveled toward Ye Chenghuan, who waved lazily from the shadows. Lin Peishan's composure fractured—$700,000 incinerated in a breath.
The hostess stammered, "S-Sir, did you say... one million dollars?"
A nod. The gavel fell thrice.
As they approached the podium, Ye Chenghuan tore three stamps to shreds before the horrified crowd. Holding the sole survivor aloft, he declared, "Behold the only Inverted Jenny in existence—now valued at ten million! Exclusive property of Lin Peishan!"
Gasps morphed into awed applause. Shen Dongze's smile froze into a rictus as his treasure disintegrated.
Post-auction, the elite migrated to private dining salons. Shen Dongze materialized beside Lin Peishan, champagne flute in hand. "Ms. Lin, might I escort you to the VIP lounge? We've prepared white truffles from Alba."
"This area suffices." Her polite refusal hung in the air.
"But our guest of honor deserves proper ambiance." His tone brooked no refusal.
The elevator ascended to a soundproofed sanctuary where silk-clad servers knelt with tea ceremonies. At the crescent table sat Longdu's financial elite—including a pouty socialite clinging to Shen's arm.
"May I present Ms. Lin Peishan." Shen's introduction triggered synchronized standing ovations.
The socialite—online celebrity Xu Ke'er—sucked her teeth audibly. "Big fuss over nothing," she muttered, examining manicured nails.
Shen's jaw tightened imperceptibly as he introduced the luminaries: Tech moguls, retail barons, venture capitalists. Each name carried weight, yet all orbits bent toward Lin Peishan's gravity.
Ye Chenghuan's gaze lingered on Xu Ke'er's surgically refined features. Recognition flickered—her face plastered across viral dance challenges and cosmetic ads.
As Shen expounded on mutual investment opportunities, Xu Ke'er's whine pierced the veneer. "Dongze, you promised me that Bulgari necklace last week!"
"Business before pleasure," Shen dismissed, eyes never leaving Lin Peishan.
The socialite's porcelain mask cracked. "You think she's better because she ripped up some stamps? I could—"
"Enough." Shen's quiet rebuke froze her mid-tantrum.
Lin Peishan sipped jasmine tea, observing the theatrics with detached amusement. Ye Chenghuan leaned close, breath tickling her ear. "Shall I make her disappear? I know a swamp that swallows vanity whole."
She hid a smile behind her cup. "Behave."
"Always do." His grin promised chaos as servers unveiled gilded domes—revealing truffle shavings over Iberico ham, each course a calculated display of Shen's reach.
Across the table, Xu Ke'er's glare could melt diamonds. The real auction, it seemed, had only just begun.