ATLAS TRANSLATES

Ren Wanxuan didn’t understand why Ren Qian was partial towards Bailian. Just because Bailian was good-looking and a bit luckier?

Beside her, Chen Zheng also quietly looked at the calligraphy scroll. Hearing Ren Wanxuan’s words, he nodded almost imperceptibly.

Ji Heng tapped his pipe and withdrew his gaze from the auction stage, throwing another look Ren Wanxuan’s way before lowering his voice helplessly to Bailian, “Don’t make reckless judgements.”

Although Ren Wanxuan’s tone wasn’t great, she did have a point. If other people or fans heard what Bailian said…

That renowned Bai family—even if they weren’t celebrities now, you could randomly grab any kid off the streets and fifty percent would recognize them.

Bailian would truly be cursed to death by netizens later on.

Bailian: “Oh…”

Calligraphy required capturing spiritual essence. When she wrote it, she entered a state of focus. But she was still young then, practicing suspended wrist technique.

There was a brick hanging from her right hand every day as she trained calligraphy, so her strokes back then lacked the current stability.

When she finished writing, Liang Zewen lamented that it would have been even better if done a few years later.

“Everyone has different perspectives,” Ren Qian set his teacup down, playing peacemaker. “Let’s watch the bidding first.”

Ren Qian smiled. Peering at the combative Bailian, he silently shook his head inside.

She really was too young. But he also shouldn’t have brought this up in front of Bailian. Clearly the Ji family didn’t understand Liang’s style. Calligraphy required some artistic foundation. Asking Bailian this was no different than playing songs to a cow.

Outside.

The people on 1F and 2F were all worked up.

The bid already exceeded 800 million, yet 3F still hadn’t made a move.

“810 million,” someone from 2F bid again.

“1 billion,” said a middle-aged voice from 3F.

At this, Ren Qian involuntarily straightened up.

Ren Wanxuan and Chen Zheng also exchanged a look. She eyed Bailian, then lowered her voice. “Is that Director Chen?”

Chen Zheng nodded without shifting his gaze.

With such a heavy historical relic, once obtained and hidden away in a private collection, they could only admire it now while they had the chance.

Although the Chen and Ren families both obtained invites, they didn’t expect Director Chen to acquire yet another invite from who knows where at the last second. On this, they were both in his debt.

**

3F.

Chen Ju tightly gripped the handrail, eyes fixed unwaveringly on the central auction stage.

“1.2 billion.”

As the price climbed higher, Chen Ju couldn’t resist glancing at the man seated in the middle. “Young Master Jiang, our old master said that if you could support the Chen family just this once, old master promises that as long as you help this time…”

The Chen house had to feed a bunch of people and every little bit of money at home went towards military provisions.

Despite having a private museum, if there was anything requiring even a tiny bit of money, Old Master Chen had to swallow his pride and plead poverty to the Jiang family.

So this occasion wasn’t out of the ordinary.

Chen Ju was at a loss over how to invite Young Master over, never expecting it to take so little effort.

Jiang Furong casually reclined on the sofa, long legs gracefully crossed. Sharp eyes fixed on the auction stage, slender fingers draped over the sofa backrest—every bit the image of aloof nobility.

Hearing Chen Ju’s request, he unhurriedly glanced his way.

Chen Ju watched him eagerly.

Jiang Furong withdrew his gaze, attention returning to the auction platform.

He didn’t research calligraphy extensively, yet something about the piece exhibited seemed vaguely familiar. Fingertips lightly rapping the sofa, after a long moment of contemplation he signaled Ming Dongheng with a look.

Seated furthest right, Ming Dongheng tapped the button without even a blink, expressionlessly calling out a bid. “2 billion.”

Everyone on 1F, 2F, 3F: “……”

Chen Ju gnawed on his finger, conflicted over whether to feel grateful or pained by this extravagance. Couldn’t they make “2 billion” sound less like “2 bucks”?

Ming Dongheng returned Chen Ju’s gaze with an aloofness that seemed to ask what his deal was.

Chen Ju hastily averted his eyes.

Truly, how was the Jiang family this wealthy? He was so, so envious!

Naturally, the calligraphy piece ultimately entered Jiang Furong’s possession in the end. While 2 billion gave most others in the venue pause, for Asia’s richest Jiang clan it was but a trivial matter settled in a sentence.

The tall and elegant auctioneer slammed down the final gavel.

Chen Ju, who had fixed his attention here the entire time, finally breathed out in relief. He suppressed the urge to immediately have the auction house deliver the goods over, instead turning to Jiang Furong in gratitude. “Thank you, Young Master Jiang.”

Unrushed, Jiang Furong withdrew his attention, expression unchanged. Fine eyes slightly arched, he graciously and sincerely asked, “Why are you thanking me?”

Chen Ju froze. “Of course it’s because of that authentic work…”

This was an authentic piece by the Bai family, even that Young Miss Bai’s hand. The Chen house scraped together 1 billion despite their poverty. If not for Old Master’s illness keeping him hospitalized, he would have come in person to escort this relic back to Beijing.

Jiang Furong rose to his feet and faintly nodded Chen Ju’s way, completely nonchalant. “When did I say I bid for you?”

Chen Ju: “…Huh?”

That…wasn’t the case?

As Chen Ju looked into Jiang Furong’s aloof face, wanting to say something yet ultimately not daring to, the auction segment came to an end.

**

The staff of White Tiger Auction House brought Ren Qian’s acquisitions to his 1F VIP room while his secretary collected the pieces. The group blended into the outflow and headed for the exit.

Midway, the secretary took a call. “…I see. Understood.”

Walking side by side ahead, Ren Qian glanced over upon noticing his hesitation, seeming about to say something before thinking better than voicing it near Ji Heng and Bailian.

Discerning his desire to speak, Ren Qian directly asked, “What is it?”

“It’s that Professor Gao,” the secretary put his phone away and lowered his voice a fraction. “He agreed to your dinner invite…”

“Uncle,” Ren Wanxuan frowned from her proximity to the secretary. Cutting him off, she urged, “We can discuss this when we get home.”

Hearing her speak this way, Ren Qian acquiesced.

So the secretary said no more.

“Grandfather, I’ll head back first,” Bailian retrieved her phone and walked a couple steps outside. Brows downturned, she bid Ji Heng goodbye.

Ji Heng worriedly eyed the crowds. “Be careful going alone. Don’t turn your phone off, call me if anything comes up.”

Fortunately there was reinforced security today with the major Blackwater Street auction event going on. Quite a few bodyguards stood along their path here.

There likely wouldn’t be any major incidents.

After a brief hesitation, he assented.

“Mm,” Bailian absently surveyed the exit, donning her headphones again to study vocab. She paid no heed whatsoever to what Ren Wanxuan’s group discussed, calmly blending into the multitude.

The instant she stepped out, Mao Kun already spotted her from where he waited by the entrance.

“Sis,” he drew out a cigarette with deference, offering it Bailian’s way.

While Bailian normally carried an indolent charm brimming with allure, peering into her unfathomably dark eyes now devoid of visible emotion, their depths were shockingly icy.

Mao Kun’s back ran cold. Wondering who was blind enough to offend her and invoke this reaction.

He swiftly held out the smoke, attempting to ease the atmosphere.

Despite disliking the smell, Bailian bit down on the cigarette this time and indifferently let Mao Kun light it up. Crimson flame engulfed the snowy white stick.

Casually passing her backpack to Mao Kun, slender fair fingers held her cigarette. Veils of smoke wreathed her features as she lazily spoke. “Find me a place to do homework.”

“O…kay,” Mao Kun gingerly took her bag and turned to locate a spot.

Dressed in classical attire, Bailian stood amidst the unhurried bustling avenue. Delicate features obscured behind thin smoke—as if a young lady of antiquity accidentally lost in the mortal realm.

More than a few turned back frequently in their steps, furtively catching their breaths.

In the end, one man couldn’t resist approaching her. Sizing her up with meaningful looks, “Little lady, what are you still doing out so late?”

Leaning against the roadside wall, Bailian languidly tilted her head. Devoid of any ornamentation beyond a plain wooden hairpin, she held the cigarette with utter nonchalance, meeting his stare.

That simple tilt of her head—rendered her gaze devastatingly exquisite.

And bone-chillingly cold.

Unable to stop himself, the man reached to touch her face only for another hand to block him. “Bro, if you want fun why not pick me? What’s there to play with a student?”

Trailing a hand lightly down the man’s chest, the woman’s flirtatious eyes and brows carried a hint of seduction.

The man looked between Bailian and this mystery woman.

Feeling somewhat unsettled in the end, he lightly grasped the woman’s hand. “That doesn’t sound…too bad either.”

“Sis, it’s that last bar counter,” Mao Kun’s voice called out from behind.

The two before him froze in surprise, turning back to see Mao Kun stomping over with a ferocious expression.

Since this man clearly recognized Mao Kun, his grip on the woman involuntarily spasmed. Was Mao Kun interested in this chick too?!

“M-Mao…Kun…”

Without pause, Mao Kun strode right past him to stand before Bailian. “Sis, everything okay?”

Bailian held her cigarette, lazily looking the man up and down. Ultimately fixing the woman with her stare instead, “Where are you from?”

The black-clad woman started, seemingly hesitating a second before responding. “Xiangcheng.”

“I figured. Thanks,” Bailian put out the cigarette and casually flung it in the trash. She told Mao Kun, “I’ll go do homework.”

Mao Kun hastily complied. “Sis, go ahead and do your work first. I’ll get someone to take you to a private room if it’s noisy here.”

After she left.

Mao Kun grabbed the man by the collar. “Got blind eyes huh, want to play with my sis?!”

He tossed the man to his subordinates with an icy command. “Deal with him.”

It was only now that the mystery woman returned to her senses, shock coloring her tone. “Young Master Mao?”

Mao Kun recognized this alluring female as a bar singer. Sparking up a cigarette for himself, parting words before leaving. “Xue Chun? Remember my number, come directly to me if anything comes up in the future. Thanks to you, this street didn’t run red today.”

By now, he had an exceptionally keen grasp when it came to understanding Bailian.

**

Approaching 10pm, the Blackwater Street nightlife peaked.

It took a while before the line of cars in the underground parking garage advanced enough for the Ren family car to slowly exit.

A business vehicle. Ji Heng and Ren Qian sat in front while the secretary rode in back clutching his phone. He threw Ji Heng and Bailian a look, seeming to have something to say yet not voicing it near the two.

Noticing his desire to speak, Ren Qian directly prompted, “What is it?”

“It’s Professor Gao,” the secretary put his phone away again and subtly lowered his volume. “He agreed to your dinner invitation…”

“Halt,” Ji Heng abruptly called out upon spotting a shadowy blur.

The driver braked.

Ren Qian looked quizzically Ji Heng’s way. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Ji Heng watched the crowds, shaking his head. “Thought I saw something.”

Lapsing into silence afterward, the vehicle merged back into the Blackwater Street traffic amidst the human sea before eventually pulling over at Qingshui Alley’s entrance. Only once Ji Heng exited and entered the alley did the car slowly make its way towards the Ren house.

After Ji Heng’s departure, Ren Qian spoke to the secretary up front. “Did that Professor’s assistant get back to you?”

The secretary solemnly nodded. “The Wanhe Tower private room reservation is still ongoing. I’ll do my best to arrange the soonest time with Professor Gao’s assistant.”

In the backseat, Chen Zheng had been enduring his doubts the whole ride over. Taking the opportunity to look Ren Wanxuan’s way, “This Professor Gao you mentioned…”

Only then did Ren Wanxuan elaborate. “You probably know about a major project in Xiangcheng. Quite a few people came from Beijing, including this Professor Gao who recently returned after getting his doctorate abroad.”

“What? Beijing University?” Chen Zheng nearly lost his voice in shock.

He had heard his parents discuss a huge Xiangcheng project before. But as it concerned classified intel, he didn’t know the specifics.

But a Beijing University professor…

Minimum, we were talking about the cream of the crop scoring highest nationally each year. How did the Ren family establish contact?

“That’s right,” Ren Wanxuan understood the gravity of this intel and thus didn’t let the secretary speak explicitly back when Bailian was present, in case Ji Heng or Bailian overheard. “If Professor Gao is willing to tutor us some, or put in a recommendation to Beijing University…”

It had been many years since a Xiangcheng High School student tested into Beijing University.

They barely managed to apply for the “Beijing Academy Preparatory” slots this time. Even excluding Professor Gao’s help getting them into the preparatory camp, with nearly 20 students vying for one admission slot in their training camp, each person was a competitor. All the post-lecture questions counted towards usual grades.

These problems were extremely difficult for them, but undoubtedly elementary to someone of the professor’s caliber.

With the professor’s assistance, their odds of success would reach 80%.

Since the Chen house could invite someone of Director Chen’s standing, Ren Wanxuan also understood their importance. Aware of the gap between herself and Chen Zheng along with Ning Xiao, she didn’t conceal anything further about Professor Gao from Chen Zheng.

It was amidst this that Chen Zheng also snapped out of his stupor, heart pounding violently as if wanting to leap from his chest.

Maintaining his gaze on Ren Wanxuan, he deeply exhaled in gratitude. “Thank you.”

“We’re teammates. Of course we rise and fall together,” Ren Wanxuan smiled, wholly nonchalant.

Chen Zheng nodded.

The teacher mentioned grouping up last Friday. At the time, he did feel a tinge of regret.

Because it looked like Ning Xiao wanted to partner with Bailian. Understandable since they were classmates.

But now, he was extremely glad.

Glad that he rejected the teacher’s offer that night, and when Ren Wanxuan asked him the next day, he didn’t turn her down.

Up front, Ren Qian suddenly recalled something and casually remarked, “I remember Bailian is also in 12th grade right? Include her as well if you invite Professor Gao to dine.”

Ren Wanxuan lifted her head disbelievingly. “Bring her along? Why, would she even understand what the professor says?”