Intimate Trial Chapter 8

Chapter 8

In the evening, she changed into the black cocktail dress she had packed in her suitcase for just such an occasion—a classic style, not overly formal, but certainly not impolite. As she adjusted herself in the mirror, looking at the composed, well-made-up woman staring back, she felt a momentary sense of disconnect. She was now a completely different person from the girl who, years ago, had navigated similar settings with the carefree arrogance of someone still under the protection of her family.

When Ye Chang appeared in the lobby, she had changed into a midnight blue velvet gown. The tailoring was minimalist, relying solely on the fabric’s inherent luster and drape to convey nobility. Her long hair was loosely gathered, with a few strands falling lazily. Her light makeup softened the sharpness of her features, revealing a rare, feminine grace and mystery. She wore simple diamond stud earrings and a very feminine Patek Philippe complicated watch on her wrist.

Seeing Shen Silin, Ye Chang’s gaze lingered for a moment. Her expression was calm, yet it seemed to hold a sliver of almost imperceptible scrutiny, as if confirming something. Finally, she said flatly, “Not bad. Let’s go.”

The auction was held in a historic, art-filled private mansion. The attendees were exclusively the wealthy and powerful, and the atmosphere was elegant and reserved. The moment she stepped into the venue, Shen Silin was instantly enveloped by the familiar fragrance, the low hum of conversation, and the unique air that blended wealth with considerations of taste. Her breath hitched almost imperceptibly, but she immediately straightened her back and followed calmly beside Ye Chang.

Ye Chang’s arrival undoubtedly drew many eyes. She was poised and unhurried, leading Shen Silin through the preview area to admire the items. Shen Silin forced herself to focus on the lots before them and Ye Chang’s potential needs, but some distant, painful memory fragments still flashed uncontrollably—the warm image of her father bidding on a pearl necklace for her mother, interwoven with the later chaotic scenes of creditors arriving and their home being sealed.

A distinguished silver-haired gentleman approached. It was Felipe Rodriguez, the head of an influential, long-established local family business. He and Ye Chang conversed familiarly, the topic ranging from art to macroeconomics. Shen Silin stood quietly half a step behind Ye Chang, playing the role of the perfect assistant, timely handing Ye Chang the mineral water she needed, and responding in fluent Spanish to Felipe’s occasional inquiries about the age of a certain piece of porcelain.

Felipe seemed very interested in a nineteenth-century Spanish court painting and successfully bid a high price for it later in the auction. As the hammer fell, he smiled and said to Ye Chang, “Ms. Ye, the next time I visit China, I hope I will have the honor of viewing your collection.”

Ye Chang smiled in response, “You are welcome anytime. However, my collection cannot compare to your discerning eye and boldness, Mr. Rodriguez.”

The auction continued into the second half, the atmosphere remaining quiet and focused. Ye Chang had not bid on any item, only occasionally flipping through the electronic catalog in her hand, her expression indifferent.

At that moment, the usher presented a new lot. Under the spotlight, a brooch lay quietly on a black velvet cushion.

The design of the brooch was quite unique: a Pigeon’s Blood Ruby was set in the center, its color rich and pure, with excellent fire. However, the ruby was not surrounded by the usual clusters or swirls, but tightly encased by a circle of meticulously sculpted, silvery-white thorns with sharp points. The lines of the thorns were sharp and lifelike, as if they could pierce the skin at any moment, creating a strong, even somewhat cruel, contrast with the fiery, dazzling red at the center.

The auctioneer introduced the piece as the work of a rising jewelry designer who had garnered significant attention in recent years. The inspiration was “Rose Guarded by Thorns,” but the designer had discarded the rose, leaving only the most aggressive thorns and the purest red, symbolizing that “ultimate beauty often coexists with danger and defense.”

A low murmur arose in the room; clearly, the design sparked different aesthetic reactions.

Shen Silin’s gaze was also drawn to the brooch. The intensity of the ruby reminded her of certain distant, warm memory fragments, but the circle of cold thorns acted like a clear barrier, instantly pulling her back to reality. It was beautiful, but with a chilling sense of detachment.

Shen Silin’s eyes lingered on the brooch. The ruby’s intensity was like a sealed flame, and its confinement by the cold thorns gave it a breathtaking beauty. This beauty carried a sting, resonating secretly with a certain sealed emotion deep within her—a mix of resentment and stubbornness. She was lost in thought, not even realizing that her expression revealed too much.

Ye Chang had only glanced at the piece casually, but she precisely caught the momentary fascination in Shen Silin’s eyes, followed by an extremely subtle look of distraction. That look was not like merely appreciating a piece of jewelry; it was as if she were looking through it at something distant or unattainable.

Just as the auctioneer began asking for bids, Ye Chang’s gaze briefly shifted between Shen Silin’s profile and the brooch. Then, with almost no hesitation, she calmly raised her bidding paddle.

Shen Silin snapped back to attention, looking at Ye Chang in surprise. Ye Chang did not look at her, but calmly watched the auction stage, her profile appearing particularly clear and resolute under the lights.

Another lady in the room joined the bidding. The price slowly climbed. Ye Chang’s increases were steady and decisive, without the slightest hesitation, as if she had long intended to acquire this brooch. Shen Silin’s mind was in turmoil. Did Ye Chang raise the paddle because she noticed Shen Silin liked it? The thought flashed through her mind, only to be immediately suppressed—that was absurd; Ye Chang was not the type of person to do such a thing. Perhaps Ye Chang simply liked it herself?

In the end, Ye Chang successfully won the brooch. The sound of the gavel was crisp.

On the drive back, the atmosphere was subtle. Shen Silin sat quietly, her gaze occasionally sweeping over the deep blue velvet jewelry box beside Ye Chang. Her mind was unsettled, containing the lingering excitement for the brooch, confusion about Ye Chang’s motive for bidding, and an indescribable, slight embarrassment akin to “being seen through.”

Ye Chang had been resting with her eyes closed until the car turned onto the street leading to the hotel. Then, she slowly spoke, her voice devoid of emotion: “That brooch has a good design.”

“Yes, it’s very unique,” Shen Silin replied cautiously.

“I recall,” Ye Chang’s tone was light, like stating an objective fact, “your family’s company started with raw material trade for jewelry. You should be familiar with gemstones.”

Shen Silin’s breathing paused slightly. Ye Chang knew, and remembered it so clearly.

“Yes,” she answered briefly, saying nothing more.

Ye Chang handed the jewelry box over. “Take a look. With your former eye.”

Shen Silin hesitated, took the box, and opened it. Up close, the brooch was even more dazzling and impactful. The carving of the thorns was extremely delicate, every spike exuding a cold, hard texture; the central ruby was pure and rich, still radiating a captivating luster even in the car’s dim light. The craftsmanship and quality were indeed superior.

“Pigeon’s Blood Ruby, top-tier color and clarity, perfect cut, excellent fire. The platinum and diamond-set thorn section shows exquisite craftsmanship, and the design… has great power,” Shen Silin evaluated, her tone purely professional.

Ye Chang listened, nodding almost imperceptibly. “Your eye is still sharp.” She took the box back from Shen Silin but did not put it away. She held it in her hand, her fingertips lightly stroking the velvet surface.

“It’s yours,” Ye Chang suddenly said, her tone as flat as if she were discussing tomorrow’s meeting schedule.

Shen Silin was completely stunned. She looked up sharply at Ye Chang, almost thinking she had misheard. “Ms. Ye, this… it’s too valuable. I can’t accept it.”

“Valuable?” Ye Chang’s lips curved into an extremely faint, cold arc. “Compared to what you are about to face, and what I need you to do, this is nothing.” Her gaze sharpened. “Shen Silin, I didn’t bid on it on a whim, nor is this charity. I need you to remember the feeling of tonight—remember what the fervent desire surrounded by thorns looks like, remember the edges and cost required to guard the core. And remember that some things, though they appear sharp and detached, may be guarding the purest value.”

She placed the jewelry box on the seat between them.

“You can choose not to accept it. Then just pretend it doesn’t exist.” Ye Chang leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes again.

The car stopped; they had arrived at the hotel.

Ye Chang opened her eyes, picked up her handbag, pushed the door open, and stepped out. She did not look at the velvet box again, nor did she wait for Shen Silin’s answer, walking straight toward the hotel entrance.

Shen Silin remained alone in the car, her gaze fixed on the deep blue box. The light inside the car was dim, and the velvet surface emitted a faint sheen.

She had come here, joined Ye’s Group, and approached Ye Chang, harboring complex motives and an unknown fervent desire.

She reached out, her fingertips touching the cold velvet. Then, slowly, she grasped the box, pushed open the car door, and the slightly cool Madrid night air brushed her face. She tightened her grip on the box, straightened her back, and walked toward the hotel.