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"The innocent girl, sizzling hot—thwack—with a rip, the fabric tore and scattered, leaving her feeling cold! This dedicated bastard! He actually poured red wine on her back, saying he was going to savor every drop, even threatening to go 360 degrees, all angles, no blind spots! Guaranteed top-notch service! Ah! This... the intensity is too much..."

"The Sweet and Sizzling Girl"

Her icy, untouchable allure and devastating beauty were impossible to ignore—any man who glimpsed her would surely fall at her feet...

"Next up is the third item of this auction: a master-carved sandalwood hibiscus. Starting bid at 500,000 yuan."

When the auctioneer unveiled the piece, Yu Aotian, seated in the front row, leaned forward with sudden interest.

"Want it, Aotian?" Mo Xuetong, his sharp-eyed assistant, murmured.

"Wait. Let others bid first." Yu Aotian's voice was calm. Revealing eagerness too soon would only expose his hand—a lesson he'd mastered long ago.

"Bidder 549 at 2.1 million! Any higher offers?"

"Bidder 003, Mr. Yu, counters with 2.2 million!" The auctioneer's voice soared. "Any advance on—ah! Bidder 005, Mr. Feng, raises to 2.3 million!"

Yu Aotian's team turned as one toward the far end of the front row. There sat Feng Chenyi, flanked by his own entourage. The rival heir met their stares with a polite nod, his smile as polished as his tailored suit. Yu Aotian returned a ghost of a smirk.

Mo Xuetong lifted her paddle again—only for Feng Chenyi's secretary to counter instantly.

"That bastard's deliberately provoking you!" Long Qi, the hotheaded younger brother of Yu Aotian's right-hand man Long Ye, slammed his fist on the chairback. "Keep going, Xuetong-jie! Crush him!"

Yu Aotian silenced his protege with a raised finger. "Drop it."

"Never chase a bid beyond an item's true value." Long Ye chuckled, nudging his brother. "You'd know that if you ever opened a finance textbook."

"Item nine: a Ming Dynasty landscape scroll. Opening bid at 800,000!"

Feng Chenyi's team raised their paddle before the auctioneer finished speaking.

"Bidder 005 leaps to 1.4 million!" The auctioneer grinned. "Rumor claims Feng Laoshi favors classical art—will anyone deny the filial son this gift?"

"Xuetong." Yu Aotian's gaze sharpened. "Secure this. At any cost."

The ensuing bidding war crescendoed until the scroll fell to Yu Aotian for 4 million yuan. As staff delivered the sealed case, he nodded to Mo Xuetong. "Give it to Feng Chenyi."

Before protests could erupt, Feng Chenyi's secretary appeared. "Mr. Yu. A gift from my employer." She offered a lacquered box with a bow. "He regrets departing early but thought you'd appreciate... *this*."

Inside lay the sandalwood hibiscus Yu Aotian had earlier abandoned. Across the room, Feng Chenyi paused at the exit, raising his newly acquired scroll in mock toast before vanishing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our finale—a living auction!" The crowd stirred as handlers wheeled a glass case onstage. Inside crouched a girl in a sailor uniform, her face pressed to her knees.

When the spotlights hit her, Yu Aotian's glass froze halfway to his lips.

Memories flashed—three days prior, a tearful hospital call. *"Grandpa needs a transplant... 1.2 million..."* Desperation had led her to dial a number from a shady pamphlet: *"Virgin? We pay 1 million."*

"Note her purity's certified," the auctioneer purred. "And gentlemen? She's a *'white tiger'*."

The crowd erupted in hungry murmurs. Yu Aotian's knuckles whitened around his bidder's paddle. Some games, it seemed, demanded more than money to win.

Chapter 51: The Auction. It’s Her.