Crossing the Line – Chapter 4
by Little PandaFeudal Dross
The apartment Jiang Siyi rented was only five kilometers from Jiashibi Auction House.
Her mother had opened a bank account for Jiang Siyi long ago, depositing a sum of money into it every year. Her original intention was to encourage her to plan her own life and learn to invest from a young age.
Jiang Siyi didn’t know if her mother had ever anticipated leaving so suddenly, or that this spare money would ultimately become her daughter’s lifeline.
No matter what shameless things her father did—practically forgetting her and her elder sister after remarrying and having another child—the existence of this money allowed her to move out and live independently. It had spared her from financial hardship during college and the start of her career.
Most importantly of all, it gave her the leverage to refuse her stepmother’s arrangements to place her in some holding company, leaving her free to map out her own career path on her own terms.
This cozy, forty-square-meter one-bedroom apartment near her office was not large, but it was more than enough for her to live alone and raise a cute dog.
Now that her career was on track and her material desires were low, Jiang Siyi no longer needed to touch the money her mother had saved for her.
Before she even opened the door, she heard Xueqiu bouncing around excitedly on the other side.
As soon as the door swung open, Xueqiu stood right up on his hind legs, whining and pawing as he scrambled into his owner’s arms.
Jiang Siyi stroked the round head in her arms. Xueqiu rolled his eyes back in sheer bliss, rubbing against her so vigorously he almost rubbed her skin raw.
The feeling of being cared for and needed flowed into Jiang Siyi’s heart along with Xueqiu’s body heat.
The chill inside her slowly melted away.
She liked the feeling of being held even more than she had realized.
Jiang Siyi needed to step inside to change her shoes, so she had to set him down.
The moment his stubby, fluffy white legs touched the floor, Xueqiu dashed off to grab his leash, dragging the pink cord as he spun in happy circles by the door, nearly tying himself up in knots.
“Okay, okay, Xueqiu. Wait for me a second.”
Jiang Siyi set her bag down and went over to help him put on his harness.
Whenever it came to going out, Xueqiu was nothing if not cooperative.
He expertly slipped his head through the strawberry-patterned harness, sticking out his pink tongue as he waited eagerly for her.
Jiang Siyi set the water dispenser to forty-five degrees, poured a tall glass of water, and drank it while grabbing disposable gloves, plastic poop bags, and some tissues.
At midnight, the residential compound was quiet, the sounds of humanity hushed to a minimum.
Xueqiu was a pure white Bichon Frise, famous throughout the neighborhood for his adorable looks.
Even when playing with his best dog friends, he never wandered far from Jiang Siyi, always looking back to make sure his owner was nearby to feel secure.
Neighbors who didn’t know his name simply called him “the mommy’s boy dog.”
Tonight, the mommy’s boy dog was as good as ever, bouncing along right by Jiang Siyi’s side with his little steps.
A headwind blew against them, parting his soft fur backward to reveal a pair of dark, round eyes and a little smiling mouth.
While waiting for him to do his business, Jiang Siyi scanned the other WeChat messages she hadn’t had time to look at today.
Her stepmother, Zhao Jun, had messaged three hours ago, stating there was a family banquet next month and demanding that she bring Song Ti.
At the end of the text, she had added a half-warning, half-threatening remark:
【You should know how things are at home right now. Be sensible.】
Of course she knew the state of the Jiang family.
The scandal of her father, Jiang Luo, getting into a fistfight with the company’s shareholders over equity—which had landed them all at the local police station—was household gossip throughout their social circle.
Now that the Jiang family was on the decline, the resources in the Song family’s hands were their only hope of resurrection.
Jiang Luo was still daydreaming that the announcement of the marriage would send the Jiang family’s stock price soaring.
This marriage alliance between the Jiang and Lin families had been arranged by Jiang Siyi’s maternal grandmother back when she was still alive.
At the time, the Jiang family was at its peak, and the alliance wasn’t even made with Lin Yunting’s branch of the family.
Later, after a few unforeseen incidents, the engagement was transferred to Song Ti with the consent of Jiang Siyi’s mother.
Who could have foreseen that after Jiang Siyi’s mother passed away, Jiang Luo would get entangled in lawsuits, followed by a string of failed investments that sent their family’s fortunes into a freefall?
Though Lin Yunting never said it aloud, she couldn’t help but feel she had drawn the short straw.
Even so, Lin Yunting genuinely liked Jiang Siyi. She felt the girl had a good temperament and was down-to-earth. Song Ti, on the other hand, was too wild, and her circle of fair-weather friends couldn’t handle any real responsibility. If Song Ti ever strayed or made a misstep in life, having Jiang Siyi by her side would ensure she never fell too far. Jiang Siyi could anchor her.
What was more, Jiang Siyi’s grandmother had been Lin Yunting’s mentor, tying the two families together with bonds that could never be easily severed.
Thus, despite her husband’s frequent passive-aggressive objections, Lin Yunting insisted on keeping the engagement.
The declining Jiang family had taken plenty of advantage of the Song family over the years. By contrast, Lin Yunting kept the alliance going for a complex web of reasons: to honor her late mentor’s memory, to save face by not appearing snobbish, and to secure a matriarch’s long-term foresight.
In this web of calculations and transactions, everyone got what they wanted.
Nobody cared about Jiang Siyi, who was caught in the middle.
Jiang Luo wanted the Song family’s resources and was desperate for Jiang Siyi to register her marriage with Song Ti as soon as possible. Every time they met, he used every means, overt and covert, to pressure her into becoming Mrs. Song.
Exhausted by the endless harassment, Jiang Siyi had not met with Jiang Luo in a long time.
If it weren’t for the fact that Song Ti had always looked after her when they were young, leaving her with a deep, lingering attachment, Jiang Siyi probably wouldn’t have held on this long.
After a brief period of peace, Jiang Luo had ended up in the legal news. One could easily imagine how desperate the Jiang family was now, which explained why even Zhao Jun was rushing her.
Jiang Siyi didn’t need to think twice to know the sole purpose of this upcoming banquet was to force the issue of marriage.
Jiang Siyi replied to Zhao Jun, stating that she was currently preparing for the Spring Auction and likely wouldn’t have time to make it.
Zhao Jun didn’t reply.
No reply was for the best.
After a couple of laps around the block with Xueqiu, they headed back inside.
Out of habit, she sat before her mother’s memorial portrait to quietly recount the day’s events before heading in for a hot bath.
Steam swirled through the bathroom as Xueqiu curled up quietly on the bathmat, keeping his owner company.
She soaked until her freezing hands and feet grew numb from her expanding blood vessels, and her porcelain skin flushed a warm, rosy pink. Only then did the chill deep in her bones finally melt into the water.
Stepping reluctantly out of the tub, she was drying her hair when she saw the bag sitting on the sofa—the gift she had bought for Song Ti.
After a brief hesitation, she tucked the bag into the deepest corner of her wardrobe, burying it behind spare daily necessities.
Before falling asleep, she tossed and turned in bed. Ultimately, unable to help herself, she unlocked her phone and opened WeChat Moments.
As expected, Song Ti had posted.
In fact, she had posted twice in a row.
The first was a group photo of a large crowd in that small garden.
Xie Shuyi had her arm looped through Song Ti’s, and everyone who had attended the birthday party was gathered in a circle, holding bubble guns that filled the screen with drifting bubbles.
The caption was brief—just a single line:
【Happy birthday to me】
The second post—the one at the very top of her feed in reverse chronological order—was a photo of Song Ti and Lin Yunting leaning in from both sides, sandwiching Lin Ji in the center.
Lin Ji’s face was expressionless. Her posture as she looked at the lens was somewhat casual, making it look like a candid snapshot.
It had to be said that no matter where she was or who stood beside her, Lin Ji was always the one who captured the eye.
Back in their school days, Jiang Siyi had always been able to spot Lin Ji in a crowd at first glance, and now her aura was even more imposing.
Even through a screen, being stared at by those cold, proud eyes felt a little daunting.
Jiang Siyi turned her gaze away to read Song Ti’s caption.
Compared to the previous post, the wording on this one with Lin Ji was much richer.
【Jiejie came to my birthday party right after returning to the country—such a wonderful surprise! Tonight I’m the happiest girl, giving Jiejie a big hug! Nothing is better than being together as a family.】
There was a certain performative strain between the lines, though Jiang Siyi didn’t know if anyone else could detect it.
As her gaze lingered on the word “happy” for a moment, Jiang Siyi felt her eyes sting.
She closed her eyes and locked her screen.
Time to sleep. She needed to empty her mind and think of absolutely nothing.
Tomorrow was the dreaded Monday, after all.
Touching Xueqiu’s ear, she drifted off to his soft, steady breathing.
Perhaps because the day had been so long and chaotic, with her chest weighed down by heavy emotions, her night was crowded with dreams.
She dreamed of her childhood.
In the dream, she and Song Ti were very small, just tiny things. They were in the same class and inseparable every day.
Song Ti was three months older, with a sunny disposition, and whenever Jiang Siyi ran into trouble, she always went to her for advice.
Back then, Song Ti had been far more patient with her than she was now, always saying:
“Give me some time. I’ll go home and think it over, and I’ll definitely give you an answer tomorrow.”
And the next day, she really would come up with a perfect compromise.
With her mother gone and her elder sister away studying painting in another city, the young, helpless Jiang Siyi had been filled with a profound, trembling uncertainty toward the world.
At such a time, with someone beside her who was always willing to help, it was impossible not to develop a deep fondness and dependency.
When the alliance was first arranged, Jiang Siyi had believed they were different from those cold, mercenary transactions. They had a foundation of real emotion.
They had grown up together; they cared for one another.
Yet in the depths of the night, the cracks that were easily buried during the busy, bustling day climbed the bedposts on shafts of moonlight, illuminating the sheer mess in her heart.
Lost in her chaotic dreams, Jiang Siyi kept frowning and tossing in her sleep.
Work was a poison, but it was exceptionally good at fighting poison with poison.
Over the next week, Jiang Siyi was so consumed by prep work for the preview exhibition that she had no time to be miserable.
As the oldest and most influential auction house in the country, Jiashibi’s annual Spring and Autumn auctions always drew immense attention, and the preview exhibitions were packed to the rafters.
Every single lot for the Spring Auction was displayed by category. There was no barrier to entry; anyone could attend, and visitors could even handle and inspect the pieces at close range.
The younger auctioneers eagerly worked the room. Aside from building rapport with established collectors and introducing the lots, it was prime time to source potential clients.
When an internet influencer arrived to do a live stream and expressed interest in bidding, Duan Ning warmly guided them to pay the deposit and secure a bidding paddle.
Jiang Siyi was originally helping out in her own exhibition area, but as noon approached, a colleague from the Painting and Calligraphy Department rushed over. Ignoring everyone else, they walked straight up to Jiang Siyi and said:
“Xiao Jiang, we’re absolutely swamped over there. Can you come lend us a hand?”
Jiang Siyi had earned both her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in Chinese Art History. When she first joined Jiashibi, her goal had been the Chinese Painting and Calligraphy Department, but the department manager had blocked her transfer, redirecting her to the Antiquities and Jade Department instead.
Everyone in the company understood the politics behind it.
Whether it was Chinese Painting and Calligraphy or Western Oil Painting, their total sales volume was several times higher than that of Antiquities and Jade. The crown jewels of the Spring and Autumn auctions almost always belonged to those departments. A single masterpiece by a grandmaster could easily fetch hundreds of millions—something the Antiquities and Jade Department could never hope to compete with.
Auction houses ran on transaction commissions, and an auctioneer’s take-home pay was directly tied to those fees. Naturally, the veteran staff in Painting and Calligraphy had no intention of letting Jiang Siyi slice into their pie.
Jiang Siyi didn’t mind all that much. As long as she could support herself, this was merely a starting point. She had the patience to climb the ladder slowly.
More importantly, she refused to waste mental energy on resentment or self-pity.
Change what could be changed, accept what could not, and do her best with what was right in front of her.
If someone needed help, she lent a hand. She couldn’t be bothered to draw strict departmental boundaries; they all worked for the same firm anyway.
Jiang Siyi agreed immediately. When she reached the Painting and Calligraphy gallery, she had no prepared notes on these specific lots, but they were all works by renowned artists she knew inside and out.
Two guests wanted to view a piece by Qi Sanyuan. Jiang Siyi retrieved the work for them, smoothly detailing the artist’s signature style and investment value, and reciting the historical context of its creation off the top of her head.
The two clients nodded along in appreciation.
One of them, a man in his thirties, had kept his intense gaze fixed on Jiang Siyi from the moment she stepped into the hall. It was hard to tell if he was even listening; his eyes drifted with open interest from her face down to her name badge.
Once Jiang Siyi finished, the man offered a squinting smile.
“Miss Jiang, can I add your WeChat? That way, if any other pieces catch my eye, we can discuss them directly. It’s much more convenient.”
His tone was loaded with innuendo, and as he fished out his phone, he deliberately flashed the gleaming Patek Philippe on his wrist.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jiang Siyi felt a sharp glare piercing toward her.
Oliver, the manager of the Painting and Calligraphy Department, was standing ten paces away talking to another guest. He had slowed his speech, finding the time to shoot her a look of pure disgust.
It was Oliver who had insisted that his department was fully staffed, forcing Jiang Siyi to transfer elsewhere in the first place.
Now, if she added a client from his department, it would look exactly like she was poaching his business.
Jiang Siyi politely declined the man’s invitation.
“I’m not actually from this department, so I won’t be of much help with the other lots.”
Then she raised her voice slightly to call Oliver over.
Oliver could tell at a glance that the two men speaking with Jiang Siyi were wearing bespoke, understated suits.
But no matter how low-key they tried to be, a single outfit they wore was worth several months of his salary.
The toxic look on his face vanished in an instant, replaced by a warm, eager smile. “Right away!” he called back.
Jiang Siyi turned to leave. As she brushed past Oliver, the warm smile on his face remained fixed as his lips barely moved, whispering in her ear:
“You don’t seriously think you’ll have a share of the Spring Auction, do you?”
Oliver cut his eyes toward Jiang Siyi, waiting to see her look shocked or hurt.
To his surprise, she didn’t look at him at all. Her stride didn’t falter in the slightest; as if she hadn’t heard a single word of his malice, she walked straight out of the gallery.
Instead, it was Oliver’s own eyelid that twitched as he stared after her in frustration.
…
In the break room, Jiang Siyi finished a glass of water and leaned against the table, lost in thought.
After a long moment, she pulled her phone from her pocket.
During the grueling week of preparing for the preview, she and Song Ti had had no contact whatsoever.
Ever since the night of the birthday party, they had been locked in a cold war.
Jiang Siyi detested the atmosphere of a cold war.
It was tense, icy, and childish—yet it was more than enough to rob her of sleep and peace of mind.
Every time a WeChat notification chimed, she hoped it was Song Ti, only for her expectations to be dashed again and again.
Unable to bear the torment any longer, and past caring whether taking the initiative made her look weak, Jiang Siyi opened her chat with Song Ti. She asked if she would have time to come watch the Spring Auction.
This was the most important milestone of Jiang Siyi’s career.
She wanted someone important to be there to witness it.
Jiang Siyi turned her thoughts over and over, carefully drafting a message. Taking a deep breath to steel her resolve, she hit send.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city.
Song Ti was sitting in her office, texting away.
When Jiang Siyi’s message popped up, she didn’t open it immediately.
With a flick of her thumb, she swiped Jiang Siyi’s notification away like a pesky fly, clear of her line of sight.
Instead, she opened another conversation.
Staring at the screen, she traced her chin with a fingertip, her red lips parting into a dismissive, flirtatious smile.
Song Ti sat up straight, typing back with keen interest:
【Of course it’s different with you. An arranged marriage is just two people without any emotional foundation being forced together. It’s exactly as you said—feudal dross. I am genuinely trying to find a way out. You have to trust me.】
The other person sent back a huffing emoji.
Song Ti quickly replied: 【Don’t be mad. I can come see you next week.】
…
Half an hour later, after Jiang Siyi had finished her lunch, Song Ti’s reply finally trickled in.
【Baby, of course I want to support you, but it’s such a shame the timing didn’t work out. I have to go to London on business right during the Spring Auction. I will be cheering you on from London.】
Song Ti’s tone was breezy, as though their cold war had never happened.
Jiang Siyi didn’t know whether to feel relieved or to seriously question how much Song Ti actually cared about her.
Naturally, Song Ti was too busy, with no time to spare.
But when that expectation was tangibly confirmed, the hollow sense of disappointment still squeezed her chest.
Jiang Siyi’s thumb hovered over the screen for a long time. She typed and deleted, deleted and typed.
She was a little paranoid that Song Ti might see the “typing…” indicator flashing endlessly, which would look pathetic.
But her worry was entirely unfounded.
Song Ti’s screen wasn’t even on their chat page, so she never saw the hesitation.
Jiang Siyi turned it over in her mind, realizing that anything she typed would sound like a complaint.
Ultimately, she sent a sticker of a nodding rabbit saying “okay.”
This time, Song Ti’s reply came back instantly—just a single word: 【Good girl.】
On the day of the Spring Auction.
As expected, Song Ti did not show up. She was already in London, though she had sent a bouquet of flowers backstage.
A small card was nestled among the purple artificial flowers, bearing a line of printed text:
【Have your friends take plenty of photos and videos to send me. I want them as a keepsake. —Stella.】
It was impossible not to feel a pang of regret over Song Ti’s absence.
She knew Song Ti had taken over the family business and was incredibly busy. She couldn’t behave like a child begging for candy, hovering around Song Ti all day to coax a little sweetness out of her.
Still, with no one there to witness what was a massive milestone in her career, claiming she didn’t feel disappointed would be sheer pretense.
Feeling a bitter ache rising in her chest, Jiang Siyi quickly collected her thoughts.
They were both adults with their own careers to manage and uncertain futures to fight for. She understood.
She told herself to stop being sensitive and just be sensible.
Just as she slipped her phone back into her pocket, Duan Ning came charging over, whispering conspiratorially in her ear:
“The mysterious backer behind Zheng Xianhe is actually showing up in person today! For our Antiquities and Jade session!”
“The backer behind Zheng Zong?” Siyi asked. “That top-tier mystery figure actually deigned to show up?”
“This year’s Spring Auction is going to be a madhouse. I wonder if this big boss is a man or a woman, and what they look like,” Duan Ning swooned. “What if they’re a total beauty? A super-rich, gorgeous older sister?”
Jiang Siyi laughed at her wild imagination. “A gorgeous older sister is highly unlikely. For all we know, they’re completely bald.”
The two of them huddled together, giggling endlessly, completely unaware that on the other side of the partition wall, Lin Ji and their own CEO, Gu, had heard every single word.
Having traveled all the way from Hong Kong specifically to accompany Lin Ji today, CEO Gu was temporarily lost for words.
In the awkward silence, his gaze instinctively drifted toward the crown of Lin Ji’s head.
It was… actually quite thick.
Lin Ji: …
The author has something to say:
Lin Ji: Step two of winning over my wife—my wife is always right.
—
Dropping 50 random red packets1!
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