“Y-Yes, Lord Ronald!”
The Maid was frightened by the blond man, and she replied in a panic.
With one fierce glare, she shivered and quickly ran to the railing.
Gathering her magic in her throat, she called out to the Host on the stage with a gentle voice tinged with a local accent.
“Twelve thousand!”
“Box Thirteen, twelve thousand Gold Coins!”
The Host had barely finished before the Maid in Box Seven raised her voice again.
“Thirteen thousand!”
“Very well! Box Seven, thirteen thousand Gold Coins!” The Maid in Box Thirteen was stunned when she heard this. She turned her trembling body to look at Ronald, whose face was dark with displeasure.
The Host on stage was an expert at building suspense, making each countdown interval painfully long.
Ronald glanced at the guard next to him, who had finally regained his composure.
The guard’s face was so dark it seemed black, but just a single glance from Ronald made his face go pale, draining even more color from it.
Ronald said impatiently, “Useless! It’s just two filthy women!”
“Yes, this subordinate is incompetent…”
The guard was at a loss for words and could only drop to one knee, bowing his head.
“Bang!”
Ronald pounded the table, and once again had the Maid raise the bid by another thousand Gold Coins.
It was obvious he was determined to get whatever was being auctioned, but unfortunately, Box Seven didn’t hesitate to increase the bid right back.
“Box Seven, fifteen thousand Gold Coins. Is there anyone willing to offer a higher price? Anyone else with a higher bid?”
“Box Seven, fifteen thousand Gold Coins, once! Box Seven, fifteen thousand Gold Coins, twice! Box Seven—”
Inside Box Thirteen, the terrified Maid shouted loudly once again.
“Seventeen thousand!”
On stage, the Host, hammer raised and halfway through striking, was forced to halt abruptly by that cry.
He lowered the hammer and announced in a sonorous male voice, “Box Thirteen, seventeen thousand Gold Coins!”
Seventeen thousand Gold Coins—a sum so enormous that an ordinary person couldn’t even dream of it.
With that amount, one could buy a manor in the inner city of White Stone City, hire dozens of servants, and live a life of luxury for some time.
Even for Ronald, this had exceeded his expectations.
This time, the Host did not begin a countdown, but fixed his gaze on Box Seven.
The heated bidding war between Box Thirteen and Box Seven had drawn the attention of the other boxes as well.
However, compared to before—when people would use spiritual perception to probe—the others only watched with their eyes this time.
They’d learned their lesson.
Under everyone’s watchful gaze, the Maid in Box Seven took a deep breath and announced Box Seven’s final offer.
“Twenty thousand!”
The Host nearly leaped with excitement on stage.
Even the Maid holding the auction item trembled for a moment. Fortunately, she was trained and had magic to steady her hands.
Inside Box Thirteen, Ronald shuddered when he heard that number, collapsing back into his chair, his face twitching unnaturally.
The air in the box was almost frozen; none of the Maids dared to move, not even daring to breathe, afraid that if the young master was displeased, he’d kill them in a fit of rage.
After all, their lives could be measured in Gold Coins—only a hundred apiece. If one of the lords or young masters fancied one, or even several, they could be bought at any time.
As long as there was money, even the ladies or madams—if paid for—could have their dignity and lives disposed of legally and properly.
Because, in this room, they were nothing but decorations, nothing but objects.
They didn’t count as people here!
Ronald really wanted to slam the table and raise the bid to thirty thousand, but just as he was about to do so, he couldn’t help but think—what if the other party was deliberately trying to provoke him?
The black-faced guard was still kneeling on one knee.
“Milord, please don’t lose your head!”
“I don’t need you to say that! Do you think I’m like you, a useless fool who can be outdone by some filthy woman? You think I don’t know she’s trying to bait me?”
Ronald’s expression was extremely ugly.
He still remembered how, back then, that woman in the black mask had been so disdainful, and how much mockery he’d endured because of her!
If not for Lady Xuelun’s sudden appearance, he would have made sure that woman learned what means Lord Ronald had at his disposal!
A sinister smile crept over Ronald’s face; he’d already decided how to deal with those two women in Box Seven.
“Hmph, I’ll make you regret crossing me!”
On the auction stage, the Host picked up the hammer, confirmed the price, and fixed his gaze on the window of Box Thirteen.
“Box Seven, twenty thousand Gold Coins, once! Box Seven, twenty thousand Gold Coins, twice!” Before the third and final call, time seemed to crawl by, but there was no new bid from Box Thirteen.
The Host knew he couldn’t drag this out any longer, or the distinguished guest in Box Seven might be displeased. So he brought the hammer down decisively, loudly announcing to everyone present:
“Box Seven, twenty thousand Gold Coins, three times! Congratulations to Box Seven—at the price of twenty thousand Gold Coins, you have won Huyan Yalong’s Spine!”
After he finished, he took off his hat, gave a deep bow in the direction of Box Seven, and the hall erupted in a rousing symphony played by women.
Inside Box Nine, a beautiful Noblewoman in an elegant Blue Dress enjoyed the service of Maids massaging her feet, legs, and shoulders, while sipping Blood-red Wine from a goblet.
Her gaze also rested on the window of Box Seven.
From the outside, nothing could be seen within—only the cute Maid standing at the railing, looking toward the stage.
The Noblewoman had a good idea of who was in Box Seven.
As for Ronald in Box Thirteen, she knew him as well: full name, Ronald Tang En—a newly risen Noble in White Stone City, often seen in all sorts of places of entertainment.
Nobles in the northern countries had their titles bestowed by the Golden Empire a thousand years ago. Only a few were Marquises; the rest were all Counts, with hereditary titles but no right to grant titles further down.
But the Golden Empire was long gone. Without restrictions, if the local lord needed money, a whole new batch of Nobles would appear.
Baron Ronald Tang En was just such a fake Baron—one who bought his noble status with money.
He was especially fond of chasing women, particularly those of status and beauty. Many highborn ladies had already suffered at his hands.
The Noblewoman herself had been harassed by Ronald before.
“Hmph, what a vulgar man.”
A cold sneer appeared on the beautiful, striking face of the Noblewoman.
She felt nothing but contempt for Ronald.
So earlier, when those two mysterious women rejected Ronald in public, the Noblewoman had laughed so hard her shoulders shook.
But she knew as well—Ronald was not someone easy to deal with…
The Noblewoman narrowed her eyes in thought for a moment, then lowered her head to look at the Maid massaging her feet—a Maid wearing a Collar.
“What do you think of those two girls from out of town? How strong are they?”
“Master, the gray-haired woman has quite strong spiritual power—should be a spellcaster. The one with the hood also has the power of a fifth rank, but I think they’re both just ordinary.”
“Oh? Why do you say that?”
“Master, only people who lack confidence try so hard to cover themselves up—hmph!”
This Maid, unlike the ones provided by the box, wore a particularly revealing Maid outfit, the skirt so short that it almost revealed the round curve beneath; a bigger movement and even the color would be visible.
The Noblewoman laughed at her Maid’s comment, lightly tapping her black silk-clad foot against the Maid’s cheek, then commanded,
“Enough, put my shoes on for me.” “Yes, Master.”
The Maid obediently slipped High Heels onto the Noblewoman’s feet, wrapped in Black Silk Stockings. The Noblewoman’s gaze lingered on Box Seven’s window, and she mused to herself,
“Should I lend those two adorable girls a hand? If they fall into Ronald’s clutches, they’d be ruined. It’s better I save them myself~”
She licked her luscious red lips, her eyes gleaming with a hint of “appetite.”
Inside Box Twenty-One, only a Maid stood by. Seated in the chairs were two men who looked alike—one older, one younger—clearly father and son.
The older, brown-haired man turned to the young man at his side and asked,
“Roland, how do you feel?” “Still have a headache, Father.” Roland, first son of the Ophield Family.
He managed a wry smile and rubbed his temples gently, clearly still suffering after the earlier psychic blow.
Soren smiled and said, “It’s very ungentlemanly to sneak a look into a lady’s room. You had that coming—do you understand?”
“Heh, yes, Father.”
Roland turned his head away, not wanting to talk with his father anymore.
Soren tapped the table lightly with his finger.
“Those two girls from out of town might be in trouble. When traveling, the worst thing you can do is stand out too much.”
The head of the Ophield Family was also a newly minted Noble, having risen with the fortunes of White Stone City.
Having been here for so long, of course he’d crossed paths with the one backing Ronald. Judging by the strength the two women had shown so far, it truly wasn’t enough to guarantee they’d get out of White Stone City unharmed.
Roland stroked his chin, pondering for a moment, then said,
“Father, want to make a bet?”
“?”
Soren frowned; he wasn’t fond of gambling.
But Roland smiled and said, “If I lose, I’ll inherit the family business. If I win, you call off my sister’s engagement. What do you say, Father?”
Soren tapped the table again, thinking it over. In the end, he decided he could play this game with his son, and said calmly,
“Tell me, what are the terms of the bet?”