Volume One, Chapter 37: Even More Mad

Many people had arrived at the auction venue.

Song Qingyu immediately spotted Song Yanfeng and Song Xinrui among the crowd.

“Mr. Song, how could you bear to auction off your late wife’s last work?”

Song Yanfeng’s face revealed his sorrow. “How could I bear it? This is the final painting Qingya left in this world. I hope it can go to someone who truly understands it. Qingya would surely support me in doing this.”

Song Xinrui, dressed in a dazzling pink gown, chimed in with enthusiasm. “The nights following the decision to send the painting to auction, my father couldn’t sleep, clutching the painting. He loved Aunt Xie as much as he treasured her art.”

Such words, coming from a stepdaughter, were hardly convincing.

“What about Miss Song? She hasn’t been seen much lately.”

At the mention of Song Qingyu, Song Yanfeng’s expression darkened noticeably.

He said nothing, so Song Xinrui stepped in to speak for him. “My sister didn’t listen to my father and married a penniless worker. My father’s heart is completely broken.”

Song Qingyu clenched her fists in anger, about to confront them, but Xie Liuzheng pulled her back.

“Song Yanfeng has been ruining your reputation for years. Now everyone thinks you’re cold-hearted, ungrateful. If you rush over now, it’ll only confirm their beliefs.”

Xie Liuzheng gently soothed Song Qingyu’s back and shot Song Yanfeng a sharp look. “Our goal is the painting. As for your rotten father—let the wicked be punished by their own kind. We’ll just wait to see his miserable end.”

Song Qingyu took a deep breath. Yes, causing a scene would only make her the subject of ridicule and tarnish her mother’s reputation.

But auctioning the painting would require a lot of money. If there were many competitors, the money they’d painstakingly scraped together might not be enough.

“Xiaoyu—”

Chu Xingzhi had also arrived.

Seeing Song Qingyu’s pale face, he reached out to embrace her but held back. “Don’t worry, I won’t let Aunt Xie’s painting fall into anyone else’s hands.”

Song Qingyu looked at him coldly, her face expressionless. “First it was the villa my mother left me, now her painting. I told you, if you want something, come to me directly. Why must you team up with Song Yanfeng to ruin my mother?”

Chu Xingzhi froze, realizing something, and asked incredulously, “You think I’m the one who had Uncle put the painting up for auction?”

“Isn’t it so?”

Chu Xingzhi’s heart ached. He hadn’t expected that, in Song Qingyu’s eyes, he had become such a person.

“It’s not true! I only found out about it this morning.”

That much Chu Xingzhi didn’t lie about, though he failed to mention that the reason he knew was because Song Yanfeng had called him.

Song Yanfeng didn’t want to miss out on such a good son-in-law; his calculations were thorough. If Song Qingyu forgave Chu Xingzhi, he’d have done Chu Xingzhi a great favor, and the latter would be grateful. If Song Qingyu didn’t forgive him, at least he’d make some money. Either way, he wouldn’t lose.

“Xiaoyu, believe me, this time it truly wasn’t me who made Uncle auction Aunt Xie’s painting.”

On the way here, Chu Xingzhi had been excited, thinking this was a great opportunity. He knew how much Xiaoyu cared for Xie Qingya. If he could buy Xie Qingya’s last work at auction and give it to Xiaoyu, she would surely give him another chance.

“Whether it is or not doesn’t matter anymore.”

Song Qingyu ignored Chu Xingzhi and led Xie Liuzheng to their seats.

Suddenly, a commotion stirred through the crowd.

“My God, what day is this? Even the Crown Prince himself has come!”

Song Qingyu and Xie Liuzheng exchanged glances, both surprised.

In the next moment, they saw a man enter, wearing a silver mask.

His gray suit was immaculate, the black shirt buttoned to the top, every detail in place. The aura he exuded was both restrained and formidable, with a detached air that made him unapproachable.

The organizer immediately rushed over. “Mr. Gu, we apologize for not welcoming you properly. Please forgive us.”

Pei Jingmo’s gaze lingered on Song Qingyu for two seconds. “It’s fine. I was bored and came to join the fun.”

“Of course… We hope you’ll find something to your satisfaction.”

The organizer, adept at handling distinguished guests, arranged a special seat for Pei Jingmo.

Once Pei Jingmo sat, he seemed like a harbinger of doom, his presence overwhelming.

Chu Xingzhi never expected that the elusive Gu Yuandong would appear here.

He’d just said he was bored? Even bored, he wouldn’t see him!

It seemed today, he not only had to please Xiaoyu, but also Gu Yuandong.

The auction officially began.

Song Qingyu’s goal was clear, so before the painting was presented, she didn’t raise her paddle even once.

Chu Xingzhi, being present, made a few symbolic bids.

Pei Jingmo, on the other hand, truly seemed there to buy things. Out of five lots, he took four, spending eight million as if it were nothing.

Xie Liuzheng gritted her teeth, clutching Song Qingyu’s hand in a theatrical gesture. “Don’t hold me back—I’m going to battle these rich people.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Mom’s painting is coming.”

Xie Liuzheng immediately quieted down.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the final item is the last work of renowned domestic artist Ms. Xie Qingya, ‘The Smiling Girl,’ highly collectible. Starting price is five hundred thousand.”

Song Qingyu gazed at the painting, her eyes instantly reddening.

The girl in the painting was twelve-year-old Song Qingyu.

At that time, she had her mother and Little Tangerine.

Little Tangerine was a golden retriever, a birthday gift Xie Qingya gave her when she turned two.

Little Tangerine grew up with Song Qingyu, but its life was so much shorter than a human’s.

By the time Xie Qingya painted, Little Tangerine was already old.

Song Qingyu bathed it, the girl and her dog playing in the bubbles, sunlight streaming over them, so beautiful that Xie Qingya captured the moment forever with her brush.

After Xie Qingya took her own life, Little Tangerine passed away too, leaving Song Qingyu completely alone.

“One million!”

Someone had already begun bidding.

Song Qingyu quickly wiped away her tears and raised her paddle. “One and a half million.”

Another bid came. “Two million.”

Song Qingyu gritted her teeth. “Two and a half million.”

“Five million!”

Chu Xingzhi raised his paddle.

When Song Qingyu looked at him, he gazed back.

Their eyes met—Chu Xingzhi’s were full of affection, but Song Qingyu’s held no warmth at all.

No matter how famous Xie Qingya was, her paintings shouldn’t fetch five million.

The crowd murmured.

“Chu is truly devoted—he’s bidding so high for his late mother-in-law’s painting to win back Song Qingyu.”

“I thought Song Qingyu was already married? Is he trying to steal her away?”

“Who knows if she’s really married? A heiress like Song Qingyu couldn’t possibly marry a migrant worker. It’s just a ploy to make Chu value her more.”

Song Qingyu bit her lip. “Six million.”

Chu Xingzhi: “Eight million.”

Song Qingyu was furious. He’d just said he wouldn’t let anyone else have her mother’s painting, yet now he was competing with her. Wasn’t he just forcing her to beg him for the painting?

Song Qingyu steeled herself, about to raise her paddle, but Xie Liuzheng grabbed her hand.

“Baby, calm down. Chu Xingzhi is crazy—are you crazy too? We scraped together loans to barely reach five million. If you go higher, even selling the two of us wouldn’t be enough!”

Song Qingyu gripped the paddle tightly, her teeth biting into the soft flesh of her lip.

Was she really… going to beg Chu Xingzhi?

“Eight million once—”

“Eight million twice—”

“Fifty million.”

All eyes fell upon the man sitting on the sofa.

For the previous lots, it had always been He Shubai by his side who raised the paddle and called the bids.

No one expected that for this item, the Crown Prince would personally speak.

His voice was deep and magnetic, casual yet radiating an undeniable authority.

Xie Liuzheng: “∑(っ°Д°;)っ”

There was someone even crazier!