550: Chapter 545 We Meet Again

It was her grandfather's life's work, which, at the very last moment before being trampled into the mud, was held up to the altar in the most powerful and respectful way.

She didn't even know who that man was.

She only knew that in the He Family's darkest hour, a beam of light had torn through all the humiliation.

On the auction stage, the auctioneer's hand was trembling slightly.

In his twenty years in the industry, he had never seen such a dramatic scene.

His professional instincts allowed him to quickly regain his composure.

"One... one hundred million HKD!"

His voice was slightly out of tune due to excitement.

"This gentleman bids one hundred million HKD! Are there any higher bids?"

His gaze crossed the crowd and landed on the private box on the second floor.

There was the other center of the storm.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for Wu Dong's response.

Inside the box, there was a deathly silence.

Wu Dong's chest heaved violently; he wanted to bid, he wanted to crush that price.

But reason told him he couldn't.

To bid higher for manuscripts worth a hundred million wouldn't be out of spite; it would be stupidity.

He would become the laughingstock of all Hong Kong City.

Shark Lin gently patted his back and shook his head.

The auctioneer understood.

He raised the gavel in his hand.

In the entire venue, only his slightly dry voice remained.

"One hundred million HKD, once!"

"One hundred million HKD, twice!"

Each of his calls felt like it was pounding on everyone's hearts.

He Wanqing's hands were tightly clasped in front of her chest, her nails digging deep into her flesh.

Finally, the auctioneer's gaze fell upon Shen Yan once more.

That man didn't even spare him a glance.

It was as if this hundred million was nothing more than a coin he had tossed aside casually.

"Sold!"

The wooden gavel fell.

Thud!

A dull thud.

The deal was sealed.

With that sound of the gavel, the entire auction reached its climax and came to a close.

The subsequent closing procedures became dull and uninteresting.

The murmurs of the crowd never ceased.

They looked at Shen Yan's back as if they were looking at a monster.

The auction ended.

The guests began to leave one after another, but many didn't depart immediately, instead gathering in small groups to excitedly discuss everything that had just happened.

Shen Yan stood up and unhurriedly straightened the hem of his suit.

The expression on his face was no different from when he first arrived.

It was as if that hundred-million-dollar splurge was just a minor interlude in his life.

"Boss, I'll go handle the paperwork."

Wu Ya said softly, her eyes flickering with a hint of admiration.

Having been by Shen Yan's side for so long, every time, this man managed to redefine her understanding of "powerful."

"Mhm."

Shen Yan nodded and stepped forward, preparing to leave.

Just then.

A somewhat slender figure blocked his path.

It was He Wanqing.

Her eyes were red and swollen, and tear stains still lingered on her face.

But her back was held straight.

Like a birch tree standing stubborn and unyielding in a rainstorm.

"Sir."

She spoke, her voice still carrying an irrepressible tremor.

She gave Shen Yan a deep bow.

Ninety degrees.

"Thank you."

Shen Yan stopped, his calm gaze falling upon her.

Wu Ya tactfully stepped back half a pace, alertly observing their surroundings.

He Wanqing straightened up, summoning all the courage she possessed.

"My name is He Wanqing, I am He Sinan's granddaughter."

She took a deep breath, as if the next words would exhaust all her strength.

"Those three manuscripts... they were my grandfather's life."

"I know that what I'm about to say is very presumptuous and beyond my station."

Her voice grew softer, but every word was spoken with absolute clarity.

"But... I still want to ask you. Please... take good care of them."

"If... if one day in the future I have the ability, I... I want to buy them back."

"No matter the cost."

After saying this, she seemed drained of all spirit, her body swaying slightly.

She knew how absurd this request was.

A destitute heiress who had lost everything, telling a mysterious tycoon who could throw away a hundred million to "buy back" his spoils.

It sounded like a massive joke.

But she had to say it.

Those were the last roots of the He Family.

As long as the roots remained, there was hope for new sprouts.

Having finished, she lowered her head, not daring to look into Shen Yan's eyes, waiting for a judgment of either mockery or rejection.

However, all she met was silence.

In the silence, she felt a sharp gaze land on the top of her head.

She couldn't help but slowly look up.

She finally saw the face of the man before her clearly.

Not a distant glimpse across a crowd in a noisy, chaotic venue.

But a face-to-face encounter, inches away under the bright lights.

Well-defined features, cold and profound.

Beneath a high-bridged nose were two thin, sexy lips.

And those eyes.

Deep as a starless night sky, capable of absorbing all light.

This face...

So familiar.

He Wanqing's pupils constricted sharply.

Fragments of memory rapidly pieced together and reorganized in her mind.

Friday.

St. Marian Sanatorium.

On a garden bench.

The man in a casual jacket, with a gentle temperament, who claimed to be a scholar researching botanical art therapy.

It was him!

How could it be him?

That refined scholar and this powerful, big-spending business tycoon before her.

Two completely different images eerily overlapped in her mind.

The massive shock left her mind blank.

"It's... it's you?"

She cried out in shock, her voice filled with disbelief.

Shen Yan looked at her face, pale with shock, and the corners of his mouth finally curled into a faint, almost imperceptible arc.

In that curve was a sense of calm control over everything.

"Miss He."

He spoke, his voice deep and magnetic.

"We meet again."

These words were like a key, instantly unlocking He Wanqing's buried memories.

Her brain buzzed, and she was almost unable to think.

The man before her, his silhouette overlapping with the gentle scholar in her memory, yet carrying a completely different, heart-pounding sense of pressure.

Shen Yan looked at her paper-pale face, his eyes showing no ripples.

He simply withdrew his gaze indifferently, as if those earth-shattering words were just an ordinary greeting.

"This is not the place to talk."

His voice wasn't loud, yet it pierced through the surrounding noise.

"Follow me."

This wasn't an invitation; it was a notification.

Before He Wanqing could recover from the massive shock, her body had already instinctively started walking, following behind him.

Wu Ya stepped forward quickly to clear the way, using a cold gaze to drive back anyone who tried to approach and strike up a conversation.