Chapter 78

Chapter 78: Ji Family Old Ancestor

Si Jin Nan’s voice went colder. “Miss Qiao, do you know what you’re saying?”

Qiao Qing Yan didn’t argue. She shifted without warning, changing the question entirely—changing the ground beneath his feet.

“So,” she asked, “do you want to follow me?”

Not cooperate.

Follow.

Si Jin Nan looked into her calm peach-blossom eyes. The little red tear mole beneath them gleamed like a star, and for a heartbeat, his mind went blank.

He knew it was ridiculous. He knew it.

His mouth answered anyway, faster than his thoughts could catch it.

“Okay.”

Qiao Qing Yan’s lips curved. “Congratulations. You’re about to hit the peak of your life.”

Si Jin Nan turned his head, studying her as if seeing her for the first time.

Her brows were arched and soft, her eyes rippled like autumn water. Her skin was flawless, pale and delicate, like it would bruise at a touch.

Her lips—red, slightly parted—formed a beautiful, lazy curve.

She had the bones of a seductress, and yet at this moment she carried a hazy distance, as if she stood beyond the mortal world.

She sat back with a languid ease, one hand holding her chin, the other resting loosely on the armrest. Light spilled across her dress in thin strands.

Like a demon, but not a demon.

Like an immortal, but not an immortal.

Si Jin Nan’s eyelids trembled. He lowered his gaze to hide the sudden throb in his chest.

How could someone hold such contradictions in one body without it feeling wrong?

He cleared his throat. “What do you need me to do next?”

“Nothing.” Qiao Qing Yan’s tone was casual. “Just wait.”

On the floor, the bidding had reached 500 million.

“600 million,” Ji Chang An called.

A sharp hiss ran through the hall.

“It’s Mr. Ji.”

Many people hesitated.

They didn’t want to offend the Ji family—and 600 million was already a terrifying number.

But treasures like this didn’t come twice.

“620 million.”

“630 million.”

“650 million.”

Once someone dared, others followed.

Ji Chang An glanced at his wife. Madam Ji gave a small nod.

“700 million,” Ji Chang An called again.

Just as the hall held its breath, a powerful voice rasped from the entrance—rough, weathered, carrying the weight of age.

“800 million!”

The hall exploded.

The doors opened, spilling bright corridor light across the crowd. Everyone turned, stunned, as a group entered.

In the light, a centenarian old woman moved forward on a cane. Her hair was white, her skin bronzed with age, her body thin and bent, every bone weary.

And yet she carried dignity like a crown.

Every step, every posture, held etiquette carved deep into her bones.

Her eyes were bright and steady, locked on the grandmother green necklace shining on the model’s neck.

“Old Ancestor…”

“Old Ancestor…”

Ji Chang An and Madam Ji rose at once, hurrying toward the entrance.

Old Ancestor Ji waved them off.

She leaned on her cane and walked straight toward the stage.

“Qiang Wei girl,” she asked kindly, smiling as she approached, “is this mine now?”

Ji Qiang Wei hurried to support her, voice respectful. “Old Ancestor, please wait.”

The auctioneer lifted his gaze, swallowing hard.

“800 million. Any other bids?”

A full minute passed.

The entire hall remained silent.

“800 million, once…”

“800 million, twice…”

“800 million, third time…”

Bang.

“Old Ancestor,” the auctioneer said, voice careful, “congratulations.”