ATLAS TRANSLATES

When Jiang Fuli returned, Bailian was still squatting at the door.

She folded up her umbrella and lazily looked up at the continuous heavy rain, her long hair casually pinned at the back of her head by an antique wooden hairpin. The hair by her forehead was damp from the misty rain, softly brushing past her cold white cheeks.

Like a cat wandering in the rain, probing, hesitating, lonely, unable to find its way home, having accidentally trespassed into an ink wash painting.

“You walk very slowly,” Bailian looked up at him. Her eyelashes were dark and long, leaving a faint shadow on her eyelids.

Jiang Fuli returned her phone to her. Opening up an umbrella, he casually said, “I was looking at the questions done by one of your not very bright classmates.”

“Who ah?” Bailian got up and followed him out. The tutoring centre was made up of the top students from Xiangcheng Middle School.

Who wasn’t bright?

She took back her phone. The red ribbon tied around her right hand contrasted brightly against her fair, jade-like wrist.

“The one sitting in front of you.”

Bailian: “……?”

The legendary school-topper for the past few years, guaranteed entry into Jiangjing University this year, Ning Xiao?

He’s not very bright?

Jiang Fuli held the umbrella, his hand bones clearly defined. “Why did you suddenly want to show your classmates the questions today?”

“Oh, we were split into groups,” Bailian lazily walked beside him. “Four to a group. So I copied out a set for the other three teammates.”

Jiang Fuli’s eyes narrowed slightly.

As they spoke, they arrived at the milk tea shop. Ming Dongheng was accompanying Jiang He squatting at the entrance.

Jiang He was still slowly turning that seven-tier five magic cube. The seven-tier five magic cube was a sphere with twelve faces. The speedcubing algorithms were complex and plentiful, but Jiang Fuli found them too simple and was too lazy to write them out for him. Jiang He could only rely on memory to solve it.

Thus in Jiang Fuli’s eyes, his movements were painfully clumsy. Jiang Fuli gently averted his gaze.

Jiang He: “…..”

He was silent for a while, then turned his back towards Jiang Fuli.

Bailian went forward to grab his collar and squeezed his face. “What’s up?”

Jiang He grabbed her clothing hem. Anyway he refused to look at Jiang Fuli.

Seeing Jiang Fuli approach, Ming Dongheng got up to follow him. He passed a red invitation to him, “Chief Chen bought an invitation from the black market. The auction starts tomorrow night at seven.”

“Confirmed to be a genuine work from Liang Zewen’s disciple?” Jiang Fuli put the umbrella aside and reached out to take the invitation, his tone cold and clear.

“Confirmed. But who exactly, will only be announced at the auction.”

Jiang Fuli nodded. His tall figure leaned against the corner sofa as he casually placed the invitation on the table. “What questions did you keep today?”

Bailian handed the questions to him. Her eyes landed on that familiar invitation —

There was an obvious dent in the middle from when Zhang Shize borrowed it to play table tennis.

She: “……”

“Don’t send the answer to your classmate first,” Jiang Fuli explained the solution then picked up a pen to write another question. His tone was indifferent, not revealing any emotion. “Let them think for themselves first.”

**

When Bailian returned, the rain had lessened to a drizzle.

As usual, Ji Shaorong was waiting for her at the alley entrance.

When she got back, there were lights in Ji Heng’s courtyard. Ji Heng was having tea inside with a middle-aged man.

A exquisite gift was also on the table.

It was Ren Qian’s secretary.

“Miss Bai has returned,” upon seeing Bailian, Secretary finally got up to take his leave. “We will send a car to fetch you the day after tomorrow. Please take care, Elder Ji.”

Clearly he had timed his departure by when Bailian got back.

Only after the guest left did Ji Shaorong frown, “Dad, I can just go and tell the Ren family. And even though Xiangcheng’s police presence has increased, it’s not confirmed….”

“Don’t get involved. I will ask myself,” Ji Heng shook his head.

Bailian sat at the side, her chin propped by her hand as she waited for them to finish talking.

Ji Heng lowered his head to take a puff of his cigarette. Amidst the swirling smoke, Bailian gazed unblinkingly at him.

“Oh!” Ji Shaorong suddenly stood up and walked out directly. “I remembered I stewed some ginger soup for A-Meng. Let me go check if it’s done.”

Saturday’s rain meant Bailian and Jiang He spent the day reading in the library again.

They both had matters to attend to on Sunday night.

At six in the evening when Bailian returned from the library, a car from the Ren family stopped punctually at the Qingshui Street junction to fetch her.

“Miss Bai,” the chauffeur alighted and opened the rear passenger door. “Your maternal grandfather has gone to the auction house with our Boss. Old Master Ren asked me to wait here for you. Would you like to go too?”

Bailian looked up lazily, “Auction house?”

“Yes. Today they are auctioning works from Liang Zewen’s disciples. Your maternal grandfather went too.”

Bailian stopped in her tracks for a few seconds before nodding.

The chauffeur stole a glance at her, not surprised at all.

Bailian got into the car. Her wrist loosely resting on her knees as she opened a vocabulary app on her phone to start reciting English words.

The chauffeur looked at the rearview mirror. He was rather astonished that although this was her first time in such a high class business vehicle, she showed not an ounce of nervousness.

The car slowly drove into the entrance of Heishui Street.

At the entrance, the chauffeur respectfully passed over some documents before they were allowed entry. He explained while looking at the rearview mirror, “You’ll need clearance to enter. Especially today since there’s an auction. Not anyone can come in.”

Bailian was reciting her words without even lifting her head.

Baihu Auction House was located at the end of Heishui Street. From afar, one could see an imposing twenty-metre tall stone tiger sculpture crouching at its entrance.

There was a long line of people queuing at the entrance.

As the car could not drive in, the chauffeur parked far away. “Miss Bai, please go queue first. After Mr Ren and the rest are allowed entry, someone will fetch you at the entrance.”

Wearing earphones, Bailian alighted and walked into the crowd.

With a cigarette between his lips, Mao Kun stood at the auction house entrance to keep troublemakers out.

His mop of yellow hair and fierce looks made him infamous on this street. Especially since it was rumoured his involvement led to the crippling of the notorious Scorpion.

Scorpion was rather well-known as a top fighter in Heishui Street. For Mao Kun to have taken him down, clearly he was no ordinary person either.

His notoriety was widespread, even those from the Underground Fighting Arena were extremely wary of him.

With global VIPs attending today’s auction, he had been stationed here by his godfather to keep things in order.

Others who recognised him made sure to keep three metres away.

His eyes swept through the crowd and landed on Bailian.

Mao Kun’s eyes narrowed. He immediately straightened and headed into the crowd.

“Swish–“

The queue of wealthy merchants hurriedly dispersed to the sides.

“Sis,” Mao Kun approached Bailian, scratching his head foolishly. “I thought you weren’t coming? Why are you squeezing with the rest? Let me bring you in from the back.”

Mao Kun brought Bailian in via the VIP access at the back.

Baihu Auction House was very big. Circular in shape, with three storeys from top to bottom. The first two storeys held regular box seats while the third storey had special box seats.

Finding out the Ren family’s box was on the first floor, Mao Kun accompanied her there. The box seats on the first floor were very small with only a table and a few wooden chairs. Dissatisfied with such an environment, he frowned. “Sis, should I get it changed to the third floor for you all?”

Bailian found a seat by the window and lazily propped her elbow against the window ledge. Today, she wore a gradient blue loose long sleeves blouse neatly buttoned with woven light blue fasteners. When she lifted her hand, her fair wrists adorned with a loosely-tied red wristband were revealed.

Sitting back, her long skirt draped completely over the chair.

“No need.” She nonchalantly leaned against the window ledge, her almond eyes slightly lowered. Yet with a lift of them, the allure would be evident.

But Mao Kun did not dare look again. He had tea served before telling Bailian to directly find him if anything came up. Only then did he exit to keep things in order.

It was nearing seven.

Sounds signalling entry finally came from outside the first floor.

Ren Qian walked in front, followed by Ji Heng on his side. The two chatted as they headed towards the box area.

Ren Wanxuan and Chen Zhe were the last to enter.

“It’s been seven years already. Not necessarily able to find it…” Ren Qian was speaking to Ji Heng when his words suddenly stopped at his lips.

Behind them, Ren Wanxuan and Chen Zhe also halted. Especially Ren Wanxuan who uttered disbelievingly, “How did you get here first?”

Entering Baihu Auction House required going through strict queueing and security checks. Although they had arrived early, it still took them nearly two hours before they got in. Who would have expected to see Bailian already sitting by the window the moment they entered?

Bailian was reciting vocabulary words. One hand lazily pressing the screen of her phone. Hearing the sounds, she languidly inclined her head. “Grandfather.”

She paused before politely greeting Ren Qian too.

All without getting up.

Ren Wanxuan sized up her rude behaviour. Then looking at how Ji Heng was also just sitting there, she went to sit beside Chen Zhe. Biting back her words, she slowly enunciated two words, “Boorish.”

She was taught etiquette well. She had always looked down on the crass behaviour of the Ji family.

Chen Zhe kept silent. The auction started punctually at seven. The first auction item was a red tourmaline gemstone.

The beautiful and elegant auctioneer displayed the 106 carat red tourmaline nestled in the glass apparatus. “Collector grade red tourmaline. 106 carats. Starting bid, 2 million.”

Those who came were not lacking money. The price quickly rose to 3 million.

Ren Qian, who had been speaking with Ji Heng all along, finally stopped. Beside him, his secretary pressed the bid button. “3.5 million.”

Afterwhich, he smiled and explained, “It’s Miss Wanxuan’s birthday soon. Chairman Ren instructed me to keep an eye out for something to gift her for her birthday.”

As he was speaking, his gaze suddenly landed on Bailian. Secretary gave an awkward cough and stopped talking.

Ren Wanxuan and Chen Zhe were on the side. As it was both their first time at the auction house, they were curious about everything and hadn’t settled down. Hearing Secretary’s voice, Ren Wanxuan was indifferent. “What’s the point of always buying these things? I haven’t even worn what you bought the previous time.”

Secretary laughed. Not saying more, he simply said, “It’s only natural.”

“700,” a muffled voice spoke from the third floor.

Upon hearing this voice, Bailian involuntarily glanced up at the third floor.

How is it so similar to Gu? wú chóng (cockroach, derogatory way of calling sb worthless trash).

It raised the price straight from 500 to 700 million in one go.

700 million. For collector grade red tourmaline gems, it was not considered particularly expensive.

But it exceeded Ren family’s estimated budget. Secretary looked towards Ren Qian seeking confirmation.

Ren Qian shook his head. “Forget it. The VIP on the third floor. No one will fight it.”

The Ren family did not have the financial capability to contend with them.

Just like that, the red tourmaline gem was taken by the third floor.

The auction carried on item by item. Bailian stopped paying attention while the third floor box also made no other sounds.

Somewhere in between, Ren Qian bidded for another work of calligraphy.

The final auction item finally caused everyone, including Ji Heng, to sit up straight in anticipation, their eyes fixed unwaveringly on the auction platform.

Even Ren Wanxuan stopped sending photos on her chat group.

9.30 PM.

The tall auctioneer elegantly smiled while dressed in a Chinese-styled evening gown. “I know why everyone is here today. Trust me that this final auction piece will not disappoint your expectations.” As she spoke, she reached out a hand to pull aside the red cloth behind her.

A meticulously maintained mounted calligraphy piece was revealed before everyone. It was a carefreely scattered poem —

[The soul of this old general returns home, today I drink freely from my cup.

Though the Changting pavilion stands but ten li* it feels too short. How can the cold armour and blood not make one grow old?

This journey hence takes diverging paths. The green plume enters the ancestral temple.

My long spear rises alongside the waves, my sharp brush tests its mettle.]

— Farewell on the Long Corridor, Song of Sending Off to Battle

While not many words made up this poem, every single word contained shifts in tempo, concealing and revealing true meaning in turns. Its unique style and unfettered ease after the brush penetrated three fen deep embodied a vibrant vitality that seemed to leap off the paper, brimming with life and warmth.

Behind her, Ren Wanxuan murmured dazedly, “The green plume enters the ancestral temple… So this is Liang’s style.”

No one could sense the oncoming tidal wave of vitality clearer than the auctioneer. For an instant, she seemed to see a woman in white merrily wielding her brush to scatter ink and accomplish it all in one go.

“As the style resembles Liang’s, coupled with Liang Zewen’s personal seal as signature, our auction house thought this was written by Liang herself,” the auctioneer took a deep breath to detach herself emotionally and spoke solemnly. “After authentication by historians, this poem was written by her younger sister to her brother Bai Chongyu when he enlisted. We are all familiar with the legendary military general Bai Chongyu — placed fifteenth in the provincial imperial examinations at fifteen, an metropolitan graduate at eighteen. After his father’s death, he abandoned his writing brush to join the military at twenty, heading off to battle spear in hand. His younger sister hoped he would return home someday to take up the writing brush and enter court. Unfortunately, as he never returned…. based on historical records she wanted to discard this work but it was retrieved by her teacher. It can be said that this sole surviving work of calligraphy left behind for us by Liang Zewen herself is of immense historical value as a collectible…”

The auctioneer carried on elaborating in detail.

In the box, Bailian rested her chin on the window ledge gazing quietly at that almost faded mounted poem.

A millennia old genuine work preserved till today seemed to allow one to glimpse at the beauty and tragedy from that past era through the strokes.

When the starting bid was announced to be 50 million —

She had been watching too intently until Ji Heng called her a few times without her hearing.

Ren Qian had a rather good impression of Bailian. Seeing how fixated she was on that calligraphy piece, he laughed and asked curiously with some wonder, “Bai, do you research on Liang’s style too? How much do you estimate this work will finally sell for in the end?”

Hearing Ren Qian’s words, Ren Wanxuan also returned to the present. She sized up Bailian superciliously.

She did not understand why her father would ask Bailian such questions. This girl from the Ji family looked nothing like someone who would research Liang’s calligraphy style.

Bailian inclined her head slightly. She retracted her gaze from the mounted calligraphy and lazily went back to reciting her vocabulary words. “The brushwork of this piece lacks strength. She was very young when writing it thus her wrist strength was untrained. The starting bid is too high.”

*li – Chinese measurement for distance