A low, restrained outburst rang out, and the group of girls turned around in disbelief.
"Christan, she... she bullied you like that! We were just standing up for you, how could you still... take her side and yell at us?!"
The girls looked utterly aggrieved.
Christan lowered his voice and said, "The police are here. Watch what you say!"
"But, that woman-"
"That's enough!" Serena waved a hand impatiently. "Girls, you need to learn some restraint! Look at him-he knows how to read the room and assess the situation! If he acted as brainlessly as you all just did, who knows how much trouble he'd get into in his circle?"
The girls were even more indignant when they heard that.
"What are you talking about?! We're loyal fans of Christan! How could we ever cause trouble for him?!"
"This isn't causing trouble?" Serena lifted her chin and motioned toward the two male officers. "Look, even the police can't stand watching anymore."
Everyone turned to look at the officers.
The two policemen were frowning, visibly scrutinizing the scene.
Christan turned to the girls, clearly annoyed. "Enough. If you really support me, then stop talking."
He then turned back to Serena. "I've apologized. The car will be moved right away. Could you explain things to the police and cancel the report?"
Serena wasn't one to stir up trouble-but she didn't fear it either.
She never picked fights, but if someone came after her, she sure as hell wasn't going to just take it.
Since Christan had already lowered himself to apologize so humbly, she didn't feel like dragging it out further.
More importantly, she didn't have time to waste. The auction was starting in just thirty minutes-she needed to get there fast.
Dragging this on wouldn't do her any good either.
So she said coldly, "Then move your car right now-and take your fans with you. Don't block the way again."
"Got it!" Christan agreed firmly.
Serena didn't waste another second and turned to walk toward the officers.
After explaining the situation thoroughly, the police finally left.
The black Jeep also drove off as promised.
Serena returned to her car, started the engine, and was about to hit the gas.
Suddenly, there was a knock on her window again. Christan was still outside.
She hesitated a moment, then rolled the window down. "What now?!"
The man reached in and handed her a business card. "My number. Call me when you have time-we should sit down and talk."
Serena didn't take it. She let out a sarcastic laugh. "What, you still think I'm putting on a show? Should I call the cops back?"
"No," Christan shook his head. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you. Or... you could give me your number instead?"
Serena blinked and glanced at the time.
If she kept going back and forth with him, she'd definitely miss the auction.
She snatched the card from between his fingers and said impatiently, "Happy now?"
"Will you call me?" he asked with a faint smile, his eyes flickering uncertainly.
"Depends on my mood."
With that, she ignored him, and her Mini Cooper roared to life as she sped off.
She drove as fast as she could, barely arriving ten minutes after the auction had started.
After handing over her invitation, the security guards grilled her for a while before finally letting her in.
She quietly slipped into the auction room and found a seat in the corner of the last row.
As she looked up, her eyes locked onto a large rough gemstone being displayed under glass-an uncut stone weighing around ten kilograms. Its raw surface shimmered under the lights, with a tight matrix of minerals and a faint, electric-blue hue peeking through the crevices.
At first glance, it looked incredibly promising. The surface was clean, compact, and the glow suggested it could be a specimen of rare Paraíba tourmaline-perhaps even gem-quality with high copper content. The kind collectors drooled over. The kind that could fetch millions.
But then something strange happened.
Serena's eyes burned, as if fire had been poured into her pupils. She shut them quickly, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose.
The sensation passed after a few seconds.
When she opened her eyes again and looked at the gemstone, everything had changed.
She could see through it.
Not just see into it-the way a trained gemologist might-but truly see through it. Past the skin, beyond the opaque shell. Inside the stone, beneath that electric-blue outer crust, was a disappointingly thin layer of copper-rich tourmaline. Barely a centimeter thick. Beneath that? Dull, fractured material with no value at all.
The stone was flashy on the outside, yes-but essentially worthless.
On stage, the auctioneer gave a polished introduction to the stone, noting its 'exceptional potential' and 'unusually vibrant color banding.' Then he lifted his gavel.
"We'll begin bidding at one hundred thousand dollars."
"Five hundred thousand!" someone called out immediately, voice sharp and eager.
"Eight hundred thousand!"
"One million!"
"1.2 million!"
The bids came fast and hot.
Serena shook her head slightly.
If the entire stone had been the vivid Paraíba hue that peeked out on the surface, it would have been a bargain. But knowing what was inside... the bidders were throwing their money at a dream.
The room began to quiet. The auctioneer's eyes scanned the crowd.
Then, a man sitting a few rows in front of her raised his paddle. Elderly, with neatly combed silver hair and a sharp suit-someone clearly experienced in the trade.
"1.5 million."
Gasps rippled through the audience.
It looked like the showy but hollow stone might go to the old man.
"1.55 million," came another voice-from a bidder who had previously shouted "1.2."
Serena watched the old man. His hand twitched slightly, fingers tightening around his paddle, clearly debating another raise.
Something in the back of his posture tugged at her heart.
Her chest ached.
He reminded her of her grandfather.
He'd passed away the year she started middle school. Her clearest memory of him was of a white-haired man in a rocking chair, smiling at her as he said, "Serena, if there's something you want, just tell Grandpa-Grandpa will get it for you."
Her father had always been strict. Cold, even.
If she wanted something, she had to earn it.
So her grandfather had been her only soft place to land.
And then he was gone, long before she ever had a chance to repay that kindness.
She leaned forward, gently touching the old man's shoulder. "Sir," she whispered, "that stone might look beautiful on the surface, but the inner band is thin-and everything beneath it is fractured and worthless. At this price, you're likely to take a heavy loss."
***