The lights of Shanghai shimmered like diamonds strewn across velvet as the limousine pulled up in front of the opulent hall. Men in tailored suits and women in couture gowns strolled up the steps of the prestigious Jade Pavilion, tonight's location for the rare antique auction held only once a year, behind closed doors and under layers of secrecy. Invitations were impossible to obtain without influence, wealth, or legacy. Yan Rui had all three.
Inside, the atmosphere crackled with quiet anticipation. Gold chandeliers hung above sleek marble floors, and hushed murmurs passed between the city's elite. Every item for sale tonight had a story, a past soaked in blood, conquest, or scandal.
Yan Rui entered in a perfectly tailored black three-piece suit with a white silk square tucked sharply into his breast pocket. His dark hair was slicked back neatly, his silver cufflinks glinting. Behind him followed Yan Shuo, his right-hand man, equally sharp but keeping a respectful distance.
"First Young Master, security is in place. The Spanish guests are present. And your item of interest is third on the list," Yan Shuo murmured quietly.
Yan Rui gave a slight nod, his sharp eyes sweeping the hall. "Keep eyes on the Castellanos," he said. "They may smile, but they're hyenas in silk."
"Yes, First Young Master."
At the far end of the hall, a familiar figure in a navy blue suit entered, flanked by two assistants. Qin Yu.
His presence was like ice dropped into a flame-controlled, elegant, but so damn intense that people couldn't help but notice. Qin Yu had no intention of staying long. He'd only come to secure a painting rumored to be tied to a historic energy formula, a key piece in his growing alternative tech empire. Still, the air seemed to ripple when his gaze swept the room.
And then it happened.
The elevator leading to the private auction suites opened, and both men unaware of the other's presence until now-stepped inside from opposite sides.
Silence stretched.
For a moment, it was just them.
Yan Rui, leaning casually against the polished gold railing, his gaze sliding lazily toward the taller man in the suit beside him.
Qin Yu, arms crossed, staring forward, not even glancing back.
They didn't speak.
But the tension crackled like thunder on the verge of breaking.
Yan Rui's lips curled just a bit. "President Qin," he said smoothly, eyes never leaving him. "Didn't expect to see you here."
Qin Yu's jaw tensed slightly. "Neither did I."
Neither man moved closer. But neither looked away.
There was something unspoken, heavy, and unnameable lingering between them. As if they had both stepped into a war neither understood yet couldn't back away from. A shared curiosity. A silent challenge.
Ding.
The elevator doors opened to the exclusive penthouse suite reserved for top-tier guests.
Qin Yu stepped out first, expression unreadable. He didn't look back.
Yan Rui followed a moment later, amused. He took out his phone, typed a message, and sent it without hesitation:
"You looked good tonight. The suit suits you. I'll win that painting too. Let's see who takes it first."
He didn't expect a reply.
He rarely did.
But he liked sending them anyway.
Inside the suite, velvet covered chairs faced the presentation stage where items were unveiled under heavy security. The first two items-an 18th century imperial scroll and a jade ceremonial blade-passed with little excitement from either man.
But when the third piece arrived a dark oil painting with crimson hues and strange glyphs scrawled along the bottom edge- both men sat forward slightly in their seats.
The host cleared his throat.
"This is The Red Veil an 1890s painting traced to a lost European cult that believed it held the formula to prolong energy life beyond the natural limits. This piece has never been sold before."
The bidding started at ¥3 million.
Qin Yu raised a finger.
Yan Rui smirked and followed suit.
Back and forth it went. Silent. Unblinking. Neither man glanced at the other, but everyone in the room felt it-two titans quietly circling.
"Ten million," Qin Yu said coolly.
"Ten million and five hundred thousand," Yan Rui replied, his voice like velvet over a knife.
At fifteen million, the room had gone quiet.
At twenty, whispers started again.
At twenty five, even the host looked stunned.
Finally, at thirty million, Qin Yu leaned back in his seat.
Yan Rui raised his glass slightly. "I'll take it."
The gavel fell.
"Sold."
Why do I feel like something is cooking up between these two? Hehehehe... like I don't know 😉
But even victory didn't taste sweet. Not when he knew Qin Yu let him have it. And not when he knew Qin Yu was walking out without looking back.
Outside, the cool night air hit like a splash of water.
Yan Shuo approached quickly. "The Spanish delegates left midway. Suspicious?"
"Let them go," Yan Rui said, eyes still on the hallway Qin Yu had disappeared into. "We have the painting. They lost."
"And President Qin?"
Yan Rui smiled faintly. "He's not in the game yet. But I'll draw him in. I am now interested in him."
His fingers brushed over his phone again.
No reply.
Of course.
But maybe... next time.
And there would be a next time.
Because fate didn't throw two storms into the same sky for nothing.