551: Chapter 551 The Diary Bomb Goes Off Again!

Su Chen flipped to a new page in his diary.

He picked up his pen.

The tip of the pen hovered over the paper for two seconds.

He was organizing his thoughts.

Then he began to write.

[The night of the first day, continued.]

[Something very interesting happened at the auction just now.]

[That nickname boss of the Lingbao Trading Firm arranged for three shills in the audience.]

[I recognized them the moment I entered the venue.]

[The one wearing the bamboo hat to the east had the worst acting; at a glance, he's at the level of a second-prize winner in a neighborhood committee's talent show.]

[The tall one in the grey robe to the west was slightly better, but his bidding intervals were too regular, like a metronome.]

[The old man at the very back actually had some skill, but unfortunately, his secret signal of chanting with prayer beads was too flamboyant, as if he were filming a Wuxia movie.]

[The combined acting skills of the three shills aren't even as good as mine alone.]

[Is this the level of the shills that the nickname spends so much money to keep? I seriously suspect he picked them up from the entrance of a wet market.]

Su Chen paused his pen, took a sip of tea, and continued writing.

[Then there was a group of people in Private Room Number Seven.]

[They should be people from the Xuantian Immortal Sect.]

[Their aura was laced with the Divine Soul pressure of the True Immortal level, and their tone when bidding sounded like a direct superior giving orders to a subordinate.]

[This group probably snuck into the auction for me, aiming to cut off my resources and then deal with me.]

[A bunch of assassins and a bunch of economic warfare types bumped into each other, and surprisingly, neither recognized the other.]

[The intelligence capabilities of these two groups are so poor it's touching.]

[I only did one thing.]

[I pretended to get carried away, pretending I'd sell everything I owned to bid for this block of ice.]

[Then, when they raised it to twenty-eight million, I bailed.]

[And guess what happened?]

[The group in Private Room Number Seven thought the merchant guild's shills were my hidden agents. Afraid I'd take the item by 'passing from the left hand to the right,' they refused to back down no matter what.]

[In the end, they took it for thirty million.]

[Thirty million.]

[For a block of ice with a market price of two or three million, they spent ten times the price.]

[And I didn't spend a single cent.]

As Su Chen wrote to this point, the curve of his lips became increasingly wicked.

He continued.

[To be honest, I feel a little sorry for them.]

[But only a little bit.]

[One percent of a little bit.]

[After all, I have a blood feud with the Xuantian Immortal Sect, so it's only right to feel no remorse for them. As for the nickname's merchant guild arranging shills to fleece me, they deserved to be counter-killed.]

[The only thing that makes my conscience uneasy is those three shills.]

[They are most likely just workers doing a job for a salary, used as cannon fodder by that black-hearted man.]

[Especially that Number Jia shill in the bamboo hat; the moment twenty-eight million was called out, I saw his legs go weak.]

[Life is hard for workers.]

[It's even harder with a nickname for a boss.]

[Speaking from experience, I advise you: run while you can. This kind of black-hearted capitalist isn't worth risking your life for.]

[Hmm, today's tea is indeed delicious.]

[Thanks to the Lingbao Trading Firm for sponsoring Box Number One.]

[Even though the boss is a nickname, the service in the box is quite good.]

[Five-star rating.]

Su Chen closed the diary with satisfaction.

As the last drop of ink fell onto the paper and seeped into the fibers, two invisible wisps of golden light once again began their journey of precise backstabbing.

Su Chen tucked the diary back into his Storage Ring. He would never know what kind of unforgettable night this diary would bring to certain people.

He only knew that the next item in the auction seemed to be a decent fragment of a defensive Magic Treasure, which could serve as a snack for Wang Baobao.

He leaned back into the lounge chair, ready to continue watching the show.

...

On the seventh floor.

In the void before Xie Jinghong, a copy of the diary emitting a faint golden light was silently taking shape.

Qing Luan's gaze fell upon that golden light, and her face instantly lost all color.

She was all too familiar with this!

This thing was an omen of misfortune!

The last time it appeared, after the Young Miss finished reading it, she flew into a rage and raised the base price of all immortal body marrow cores in the entire province by seventy percent, causing a massive shock to the market.

"Young Miss..." Her voice trembled.

Xie Jinghong saw it too.

Her fox-like eyes half-closed, a cold glint flashing past. The hand that had just been cut by a glass shard unconsciously gripped the armrest of the soft couch.

In the last diary entry, he had called her a nickname.

This time... what did he write?

Xie Jinghong reached out and took that damned diary copy.

She flipped it open.

The first line of words caught her eye.

[That nickname boss of the Lingbao Trading Firm arranged for three shills in the audience.]

Xie Jinghong's breathing suddenly stalled.

She continued reading.

[The one wearing the bamboo hat to the east had the worst acting; at a glance, he's at the level of a second-prize winner in a neighborhood committee's talent show.]

"Crack!"

The immortal wood armrest beneath her fingers, harder than refined iron, cracked in response.

[The combined acting skills of the three shills aren't even as good as mine alone.]

"Crack... snap..."

Cracks spread like a spiderweb.

[Is this the level of the shills that the nickname spends so much money to keep? I seriously suspect he picked them up from the entrance of a wet market.]

Xie Jinghong's right eyelid twitched uncontrollably.

She suppressed the urge to tear the diary to shreds and, in an almost self-torturing manner, read the entire entry word by word.

When she saw the final sentence, "the boss is a nickname but the box service is five-star"—

Time seemed to stand still.

The expected explosion of rage did not come.

Bang!

The thousand-year-old red sandalwood table beneath her palm suddenly exploded, turning into a cloud of wood chips.

But Xie Jinghong smiled.

She lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly at first.

Then, laughter squeezed out from deep in her throat—hoarse, suppressed, and finally becoming completely silent, leaving only the soundless, violent heaving of her chest in wild laughter!

Qing Luan, standing to the side, retreated several steps in horror and slumped to the floor.

She felt as if all the air in the secret room had been sucked dry, and a bone-chilling coldness like being plunged into an ice cellar seized her!

The Young Miss in her eyes was no longer that business queen who controlled everything.

She was a... Demon God, completely enraged and about to destroy everything!

Xie Jinghong stood up.

Her breathing was rapid and heavy, her chest heaving violently.

In those Soul-stealing fox eyes, there was no longer any emotion.

Only a desire for destruction that would burn the entire world to ashes remained!

She, a top-tier chess player who had dominated the business world for fifteen hundred years and never lost, had actually been played like a fiddle by her cheap fiancé in the most clumsy yet direct way!

He had seen through all her arrangements!

He had belittled her gold-medal bidders as worthless!

She thought she was controlling the prey.

In reality, she was the fool who had been led by the nose and ended up counting the money for someone else!

Xie Jinghong slowly closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, all emotion had faded from those beautiful eyes, replaced by a bottomless, dead silence.

"How many items are left in the auction?"

Her voice was very soft, yet it made Qing Luan feel as if her Soul were freezing.

"Re... replying to Young Miss, there are three items left. The grand finale treasure... is that tattered... Ancient Dutian Slaughter Array Map."

The corners of Xie Jinghong's mouth slowly curled into a demonic arc.

"Very good."