35. Chapter 35: Even If This Prince Sells It, Someone Has to Live Long Enough to Buy It (6)

"Sister Qingyan, I... I will have Cui go to Brother's place and check how much silver we have left."

After speaking, Sun Huan gave Cui a meaningful look, and Cui immediately hurried out.

Chang Ge Yue watched the movements in the opposite private box, the smile on her face growing increasingly radiant. Based on her understanding of Wen Qingyan, she would never carry a single cent of her own money on such occasions. Usually, her admirers would provide for any minor expenses, but unfortunately, with Chang Ge Yue present, the competition for the Pearl King would certainly be no minor affair.

At that moment, Mr. Ding’s personal attendant entered Yuexuan. "My lady, these are the proceeds from your recent auction. After deducting the handling fees and various costs, here are four hundred and fifty thousand taels in bank notes."

Chang Ge Yue nodded in satisfaction. With the four hundred and fifty thousand taels added to the funds she already held, she should have no trouble securing the Pearl King. As for the Zhuge family, she would spend five hundred thousand taels to buy porcelain for Zhuge Pei, as Zhuge Pei’s satisfaction was worth that price, and Chang Ge Zi’an would have no cause for complaint.

As for Chang Ge Yujiao’s face? My apologies, but it was likely not worth a price tag of five hundred thousand taels.

The subsequent auctions were mere trifles, though even so, the items auctioned were all rare treasures. The Pearl King, however, was to be auctioned last.

Mr. Ding stepped onto the stage and swept his gaze over the crowd. "The final item for auction is the Taihu Pearl King."

The Taihu Pearl King not only possessed the power to beautify and rejuvenate the skin, making one’s complexion as fresh and youthful as an infant’s, but more importantly, it was a precious medicinal ingredient. As for just how precious, well, that was a legendary secret; few had ever dared to test it. After all, the Taihu Pearl King was far too rare.

Wen Qingyan gently stroked her forehead, thinking of the scar that was barely visible. Yet, in her heart, she still felt that this scar marred her perfection. If only this scar did not exist, would Prince Chen love her even more?

At the thought of Prince Chen, Wen Qingyan’s jade-like cheeks flushed crimson. Her hands trembled slightly, and a thin layer of sweat dampened her fingertips. Her mind could not help but drift back to that night. She swallowed instinctively, her hand moving unnaturally to cover her chest.

So what if that little wretch Wen Wan had served Prince Chen before her? The woman by Prince Chen’s side now was none other than her, Wen Qingyan. Prince Chen’s strength, his vigor, his stamina—it all belonged to her, Wen Qingyan, alone.

Wen Qingyan’s cheeks were so flushed they seemed ready to drip blood, her eyes brimming with a hazy, carnal desire. There was no doubt that if Prince Chen, Zongzheng Moyin, were by her side right now, she would have pounced on him.

Furthermore, her father had already petitioned Prince Chen for her hand. Soon, she would marry Prince Chen to become the Princess Consort, or perhaps even the Empress.

Wen Qingyan’s heart raced. She cared little for titles or crowns; she only wanted Prince Chen by her side every night, bestowing upon her pleasure, letting her revel in the delights of a man.

Lost in her fantasies, Wen Qingyan failed to notice Sun Huan’s awkward expression. After a long while, Sun Huan finally gathered the courage to speak. "Sister Qingyan..."

"Ah..." Wen Qingyan looked up, dazed, her cheeks still flushed and her eyes heavy with lingering passion. The desire had not yet faded, nor had the heat in her body subsided. Startled by the call, she felt a sudden, unbearable shame, and snapped with displeasure, "Has Cui returned?" Her tone was no longer gentle.

Sun Huan, failing to notice anything amiss, asked with concern, "Sister Qingyan, what is wrong? Do you have a fever?"

Wen Qingyan wished she could kick the ignorant girl before her to death. Sun Huan had no idea that Wen Qingyan was not suffering from a fever—but from an unbridled, burning lust.