My Manor

As the old man finished speaking, two women carefully approached with a painting.

"This is item number 7866547, an oil painting," the old man continued. "According to the description, this painting was created relatively recently, probably around a hundred years ago. The artist behind this work is quite renowned."

Henri Matisse, a famous French painter, is the founder and primary figure of Fauvist oil painting. He was also a sculptor, printmaker, and a prominent figure who lived through the modern era. Matisse passed away in 1954, so the initial value of his paintings wasn't extremely high, but they have become very popular in recent years.

Some have even claimed that he and Picasso are the two greatest painters of the 20th century, with comparisons often drawn between the two. This highlights the considerable value of his artwork. Using his painting as an opener is certainly a smart choice.

As Jiang Hai glanced at the oil painting, which seemed unfamiliar to him, his eyebrows involuntarily furrowed. However, the guests at other tables appeared intrigued, and many were studying it closely.

"The starting bid for this painting is 800,000 USD, with each bid increasing by at least 50,000 USD," the old man announced, and with that, a paddle was raised in the distance. The bidding began at 800,000, but before it could settle, another bid came in.

80, 85, 90, 95, 100... The bids kept climbing, each representing an additional 50,000 USD.

In about a minute, the price had reached 1.6 million USD, with the bidding slowing down. The primary contenders now seemed to be four or five companies.

"These companies are all quite powerful, and they will likely be the main competitors for your armor in a while," the person in charge from Phillips said with a smile as he approached Jiang Hai's table and sat down next to him.

"Oh? What do you mean?" Jiang Hai, feeling a bit bored, didn't mind engaging with the person in charge.

This was his first time attending such an auction, so he was bound to feel a bit unsure.

"The main buyers for your armor are divided into four groups," the person in charge explained. "The first group is the Arab delegation at table 103." He gestured toward the table in front of Jiang Hai.

"Du Famen?" Jiang Hai recalled this person and asked quietly.

"Do you know him?" The person in charge was surprised by Jiang Hai's recognition.

"Not exactly an acquaintance," Jiang Hai replied, shaking his head. "We met once when I bought a yacht, just exchanged names." Given his standards, having met twice didn't qualify as being acquainted.

"Let me introduce him then," the person in charge continued. "This Du Famen—Weiha Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum—is no ordinary person. His father was the third prince of Dubai in the previous generation, a brother to the current king. Though he didn't inherit the throne, he was granted vast oil fields. He is the only legal heir. His uncle is the current Defense Minister of Dubai, and another uncle holds the position of Minister of Tourism. He mainly oversees food-related matters. A true local magnate."

Jiang Hai was somewhat surprised by the introduction. He hadn't expected this young man to be so influential.

"The other groups include the Spanish," the person in charge continued. "Your armor belongs to Philip III of Spain. I'm sure I don't need to explain the connection to Spanish sunken shipwrecks—if you obtained this armor from one, it could've caused quite a stir." He added, "Spain is part of the European Union, but their standard of living is lower compared to some other European countries, though their welfare system is quite good."

"There's another group—Soviet businessmen. These are real giants, the only ones aside from the Chinese who can compete with Middle Eastern tycoons," the person in charge said, gesturing to a table of white men with slicked-back hair and large noses.

Jiang Hai wasn't unfamiliar with Soviet people, as his hometown, Bingcheng, had its share of them.

"The last group is the British. As you know, the British and Spanish have a long-standing rivalry. So, they won't let the Spanish easily take this armor back," the person in charge concluded, pointing to a table of British individuals at the farthest corner.

Jiang Hai shrugged. He wasn't interested in the personal backgrounds of these bidders; his focus was on making money. Who these people were and what they did didn't concern him.

While the person in charge explained these details, the first oil painting was successfully auctioned off for 3.7 million USD—not particularly high, but certainly not low. The buyer was the Soviet group that had been mentioned earlier. The Soviet giants were indeed formidable players.

The second painting drew even more attention than the first. If the first Fauvist painting at least had some recognizable subject, the second one seemed like a mess—a child's chaotic splattering of paint on cloth. Yet, it was more popular than the first, eventually selling for 4.1 million USD.

Jiang Hai was baffled. "Is this what they call art?" he muttered. The idea that people were paying millions for something so abstract was beyond his understanding.

After his complaints, Jiang Hai tuned out, no longer caring about the ongoing auction.

The third item, a set of medieval furniture, was sold for 3.2 million USD—surprising, given that it was less valuable than the abstract painting. The fourth piece, a pottery jar, was followed by a weapon said to have been wielded by Napoleon himself. Though Napoleon had owned many weapons, this one still fetched a high price, eventually selling for 9.6 million USD. The buyer was once again from the Soviet group, who were known for their pride in Napoleon's collection.

The auction continued, and soon it was time for Jiang Hai's first collection to be sold—the pair of blue-and-white porcelain vases. They sold for 1.65 million USD, and after taxes and fees, the auction house made a small profit. Jiang Hai received his one million, and the auction house likely pocketed around 100,000 USD, a modest gain.

Jiang Hai wasn't particularly interested in the items that followed. After all, Eastern and Western cultural differences were quite apparent. At least to Jiang Hai, the objects on display didn't seem worth his attention.

Over an hour later, the auction reached its grand finale—the golden armor of Philip III. Two strong men approached carrying a large box, and as the box was opened, the armor was revealed to the crowd.

The auctioneer didn't need to say much. As soon as the armor appeared, the crowd gasped in admiration.

"I won't say much," the auctioneer began. "We all know that although Philip III's reputation in European history isn't particularly stellar, he once ruled the entire Atlantic Ocean. The collection value of his armor is undeniable, and experts here know its worth. The starting price is 100 million USD, and each subsequent bid must increase by 1 million."

"130 million!" Before he could finish, the Spaniards at the table raised their bid eagerly.

"150 million," came the British bid. They weren't about to let the Spanish get ahead.

"200 million," a voice from the Soviet group rang out.

The bidding war was intense, and while Jiang Hai had expected a high price, the escalation took everyone by surprise. His lips curled into a smile—this was exactly what he had hoped for. The higher the bids, the happier he was.