Ren Wanxuan didn't understand why Ren Qian was biased against Bai Qian. Just because Bai Qian was good-looking and had better luck?

Beside her, Chen Zhu was also looking at the calligraphy quietly.

Hearing Ren Wanxuan's speech, he nodded slightly.

Ji Heng knocked on the cigarette rod. He took his eyes away from the auction house and glanced at Ren Wanxuan. Then he lowered his voice and said helplessly to Bai Xian: "It's nonsense, don't make random comments."

Although Ren Wanxuan's tone was not good, she was not talking nonsense. If other people or fans heard Bai Xian's words.

Although those members of the Bai family are not current celebrities, 50% of the kids they pick up on the street will know them.

By then Bai Zian will really be trolled to death by netizens.

Bai Qian: "...Oh."

Calligraphy requires attention to verve. She was in a good mood when writing, but she was still young at the time and was still practicing the state of hanging her wrists.

I practice calligraphy with a brick hanging on my right hand every day, and my writing is far less stable than it is now.

When she finished writing, Liang Zewen lamented that it would have been better if he had written this text a few years later.

"Everyone has different opinions," Ren Qian put down his teacup and smoothed things over, "Let's look at the bidding first."

Ren Qian smiled, glanced at the sharp-edged Bai Qian, and shook his head secretly.

After all, he was too young, but he shouldn't have mentioned this in front of Bai Pian. It seemed that the Ji family didn't understand Liang Ti. Calligraphy required some artistic threshold. What was the difference between asking Bai Pian and playing the piano to an ox?

And outside.

People on the first and second floors were ready to move.

The bidding has reached 80 million, but no one has made a bid on the third floor.

"81 million." People on the second floor bid again.

"100 million." The middle-aged voice on the third floor sounded.

This sound made Ren Qian sit up straight.

Ren Wanxuan and Chen Zhu also looked at each other. She glanced at Bai Qian, then lowered her voice and said, "Is that Bureau Chen?"

Chen nodded without looking away.

This kind of authentic work with rich history was photographed and kept privately. They can only take a second look at it now.

Although the Chen family and the Ren family bought the invitation letter, they did not expect Bureau Chen to get another invitation letter somewhere in the end. The two families could no longer take advantage of Bureau Chen's favor.

**

Third floor.

Mr. Chen held the handle with his hand and stared at the auction table in the middle.

"120 million."

Prices are getting higher and higher.

Director Chen couldn't help but cast his eyes on the man sitting in the middle, "Young Master Jiang, our master asked you, can you support our Chen family this time? The master said that as long as you help this time..."

The Chen family raised a lot of people, and the little money they had was used for military pay.

Even though there is a private museum, it actually requires at least a little bit of money. Basically, Mr. Chen has to go to the Jiang family to complain about poverty.

It’s no surprise this time either.

Director Chen originally thought about how to invite this person over, but he didn't expect that it would take much effort.

Jiang Fuli sat casually in the middle of the sofa, with her long legs crossed elegantly, her eyes staring at the auction table, and her slender fingers resting on the back of the sofa, looking dignified and cold.

Hearing this, he glanced at him slowly.

Director Chen looked at him earnestly.

Jiang Fuli withdrew his gaze and looked at the auction table again.

He didn't study calligraphy much, but the characters on the booth felt vaguely familiar. He lightly tapped the sofa with his fingertips. After pondering for a long time, he gave Ming Dongheng a look.

Ming Dongheng was sitting on the far right. He pressed the button and bid without blinking, "Twenty million."

Everyone on the first, second and third floors: "..."

Director Chen bit his finger and looked at Ming Dongheng with a very envious and prodigal look. Could you please stop referring to "two hundred million" as "two yuan"?

Ming Dongheng looked back at Bureau Chen, his cool eyes seemed to be asking him what was wrong.

Director Chen withdrew his gaze.

Really, why is the Jiang family so rich?

He is really, really envious.

Of course, this handwriting was finally pocketed by Jiang Fuli. For most people in the room, 200 million was still something to consider, but for the Jiang family, the richest man in Asia, it was just a matter of words.

The tall and elegant auctioneer struck the final hammer.

Director Chen, who had been watching closely, finally breathed a sigh of relief. He resisted the urge to ask people from the auction house to deliver the goods immediately, and thanked Jiang Fuli: "Thank you, Mr. Jiang."

Jiang Fuli calmly looked back, his expression unchanged, his narrow eyes slightly raised, and he asked elegantly and sincerely: "Why do you want to thank me?"

Director Chen was stunned, "Of course it's because of the authentic painting..."

This is the authentic work of the Bai family, or that of Miss Bai. The Chen family was so poor that they had to scrape together 100 million. If the old man had not been in poor health and was still in the hospital, he would have come to this auction in person to escort this authentic work back.

Jiang Jing.

Jiang Fuli stood up, nodded slightly to Bureau Chen, and said calmly, "Did I say I took the photo for you?"

Director Chen: "...ah?"

No, isn't it?

Director Chen looked at Jiang Fuli's cold face and wanted to say something, but in the end he didn't dare.

**

The White Tiger Auction House has come to an end.

The staff delivered Ren Qian's auction items to the box on the first floor. Ren Qian's secretary-general put the items away and the group followed the flow of people out.

The secretary-general answered the phone midway, "...what? I understand."

Ren Qian and Ji Heng walked side by side in front. The secretary-general was holding a mobile phone. He glanced at Ji Heng and Bai Qian, as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't want to say it next to them.

Ren Qian saw that he was hesitant to speak and said bluntly: "What's the matter?"

"That's Dr. Gao," the secretary-general turned off his phone and lowered his voice slightly, "he agreed to your dinner appointment..."

"Uncle," Ren Wanxuan, who was close to the secretary-general, frowned. She interrupted the secretary-general: "Let's talk about this when we get home."

After hearing what Ren Wanxuan said, Ren Qian acquiesced.

The secretary-general said nothing more.

"Grandpa," Bai Qian put away her phone. She took two steps out and said goodbye to Ji Heng with her eyebrows lowered, "I'll go back first."

Ji Heng looked at the crowd with some worry, "Then be careful and don't turn off your phone. If you need anything, call me."

Fortunately, today's Blackwater Street auction is a big event, and the security management is good. There are many reports along the way.

There shouldn't be any big problems.

He hesitated for a few seconds before agreeing.

"Okay." Bai Qian looked at the door nonchalantly, put on the headphones again to listen to the words, and didn't even care about what Ren Wanxuan and the others said, and walked into the crowd slowly.

As soon as she went out, Mao Kun was waiting for her at the door.

"Sister." He took out a cigarette and handed it to Bai Qian respectfully.

Bai Zian usually looks lazy and seems to have infinite charm, but now her eyes, which are dark and emotionless, look surprisingly cold.

The white vest twitched, wondering who had offended her by being so short-sighted, and how could she make such an expression.

He immediately handed over a cigarette, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Bai Qian didn't like the smell of cigarettes, but she bit the cigarette at this moment and let Mao Kun light the fire, the scarlet flames curling up the snow-white cigarette.

She threw the backpack in her hand to Mao Kun, holding the cigarette between her long white fingers. The green smoke drifted away and covered her eyebrows. She said in a lazy voice, "I'll find a place to do my homework."

"...Okay." Mao Kun carefully held her bag and turned around to find a place.

Bai Qian was wearing antique clothes and standing on a long street with slow traffic. Her delicate facial features were shrouded in a thin layer of smoke, like a classical girl who accidentally entered the real world.

Many people turned around and paused, breathing in secretly.

Finally, a man couldn't help but came over and looked at her with meaningful eyes, "Little sister, why are you still here so late?"

Bai Qian leaned against the wall on the side of the road and tilted his head lazily. He only had a simple wooden hairpin on his head and no other decorations. He was looking at him nonchalantly with a cigarette in his mouth.

When you tilt your head, those eyes are simply stunningly beautiful.

It was indeed drenched in chill.

The man couldn't hold it back and was about to reach out to touch her face, but was stopped by a hand, "Brother, if you want to play, why don't you come to me? It's like a schoolgirl. What's so fun about it?"
To be continued...