548: Chapter 548 Thirty Million! The entire audience was stunned; I wasn't the one paying the bill?

Top-floor monitoring room.

Xie Jinghong's seductive smile froze.

Like an exquisite painting being torn open at its most brilliant core by the crudest methods.

That crack started from the slight upturn of her lips and spread inch by inch until it covered her entire beautiful face.

"Crack."

The glazed cup in her hand shattered.

This was already the third one tonight.

Amber-colored immortal wine mixed with glazed shards dripped down her jade-like fingers.

On the floor tiles, it bloomed into a mocking flower.

She felt no pain.

All of her Divine Soul and perception turned into two most vicious nails, fixed firmly onto the recording Formation in the center.

In the image, her fiancé was reclining lazily in a lounge chair.

He picked up a cup of spiritual tea, even blowing on the steam before taking a leisurely sip.

That face of his.

That "none of my business, I'm just watching" look of a complete outsider!

An indescribable fire exploded from deep within her Dantian, burning through her limbs and bones, rushing straight to her head!

She seemed to hear a sound.

It was her own "Heart of Business Dao," polished for over a thousand years and thought to be indestructible, letting out an overburdened wail.

It wasn't crushed.

It was cracked by sheer fury!

Su Chen had withdrawn.

Just as she thought victory was in her grasp and was about to close the net, he withdrew as light as a feather!

His previous "determined to win" and "furious" manic appearance was all an act!

From beginning to end, it was a play tailored specifically for her!

He was like a master fisherman, using a non-existent bait to lure her, this self-proclaimed clever fox, and another unknown hungry wolf into a bloody struggle in the mud.

And he himself?

He simply dusted himself off, packed up his fishing rod, and went home for tea.

"Eldest Young Miss!"

Qingluan's voice carried an uncontrollable panic, as if she were being strangled.

"Number Jia sent a distress call! Su Chen doesn't want it anymore! Twenty-eight million... it's stuck in his hands! He... he's asking you what to do!"

What to do?

Xie Jinghong's back teeth ground together with a creaking sound that made Qingluan's Divine Soul tremble.

Twenty-eight million!

If Number Jia won the bid, who would this money be paid to?

The Lingbao Trading Firm!

Her, Xie Jinghong's, Lingbao Trading Firm!

Spending twenty-eight million from the left hand to pay the right.

What was this called?

This was... a colossal joke!

"Eldest Young Miss! Private Room Number Seven... has made a bid!"

Qingluan's scream interrupted her rage that was about to incinerate everything.

Xie Jinghong snapped her head up, her beautiful fox-like eyes now filled only with a predatory, cold light.

The curtains of Private Room Number Seven remained tightly closed.

But a voice carrying a chilling killing intent rolled out from within like a thunderclap in winter.

"Thirty million!"

It was Lin Wan.

Or rather, it was Lin Wan using an unquestionable command to force Han Rui to shout that number.

In her world, the burly man in the hall who shouted twenty-eight million could only be Su Chen's hidden piece.

Su Chen's withdrawal was nothing more than a smokescreen, playing a game of 'Golden Cicada Shedding Its Skin' with his own hidden piece!

She would never allow it!

Even if it cost an extra two million, she had to snatch this immortal body marrow core away from Su Chen's 'pawn'!

So, she had Han Rui call out thirty million.

Thirty million!

A rank one immortal body marrow core with a market price of three million at most, finally sold for thirty million!

A full tenfold increase!

The Auctioneer's hand trembled so much he could barely hold the immortal wood gavel as he went through the final steps in a hoarse voice.

"Th-Thirty million once!"

"Thirty million twice!"

He waited for a full ten breaths; the entire hall was dead silent, and no one responded.

"Thirty million three times!"

"Clang—!!"

"Sold!"

The sound of the gavel fell, dull yet unprecedentedly loud, tolling the bell for the end of this utterly absurd drama.

A mountain-shaking wave of discussion instantly erupted in the hall, yet inside Box Number One, it was eerily quiet.

Su Chen reclined in his lounge chair, holding his teacup with his eyes half-squinted, a faint, lingering curve on his lips.