Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 246: Chapter 246: She’s More Than Meets the Eye

Then, Ivy Sherwood was pressed against the mirror again and kissed for a good long while.

By the time they emerged, Ivy Sherwood was blushing furiously.

She glanced around and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that no one had noticed them.

Quentin Blackwood offered Ivy Sherwood his arm. "There’s a small auction later. If you see anything you like, just tell me."

"Isn’t this Mr. Summers’ birthday party? There’s an auction, too?" Ivy Sherwood asked, her curiosity piqued.

"It’s a charity auction. All the proceeds from tonight will be donated to charitable organizations. He just loves to cultivate that great philanthropist image."

Ivy Sherwood was speechless.

Though she didn’t know what would be up for auction, Ivy Sherwood didn’t feel like she wanted anything.

Even if she did, she’d want to buy it herself, not have Quentin Blackwood buy it for her.

It would make her feel like a canary in a gilded cage.

She didn’t need any of that. She wasn’t with Quentin Blackwood for what he could give her; she truly had no ulterior motives.

’If I’m after anything, it’s Quentin Blackwood’s body. He’s handsome, and the sex is great!’

There were some things Ivy Sherwood felt she needed to make clear to Quentin Blackwood. It wasn’t like she was getting the short end of the stick; this was just about enjoying the moment.

"Quentin, I..." Ivy Sherwood had just begun to speak when Jason Summers walked over.

"Quentin, there you are." Jason Summers clapped him on the shoulder. "The auction upstairs is about to start. Are you going to grace us with your presence?"

Quentin Blackwood replied, "We were just about to head up."

"Excellent. If you see something you like, President Blackwood, please don’t hold back. On behalf of all the people we’ll be helping, allow me to thank you in advance."

Quentin Blackwood nodded. "Of course."

Ivy Sherwood frowned. ’Why do Jason Summers’ words leave such a bad taste in my mouth?’

’He’s just trying to get Quentin to drive up the prices. Sure, that means more money for the charities, but the donation will be made in Jason Summers’ name. He gets to look like a saint, but it’s all with other people’s money. He hasn’t contributed a dime himself. The man is far too calculating!’

’If Quentin is going to spend that much money for charity, why doesn’t he just donate it directly?’

"Let’s go," Quentin Blackwood said, taking Ivy Sherwood’s hand. She followed him.

The cruise ship had five decks in total. The first and second decks were for the evening’s banquet, the fourth and fifth were guest suites, and the third deck was where the auction was being held.

With so many influential people in attendance, the event, though billed as a small auction, was exquisite and grand in both its setting and scale.

Given Quentin Blackwood’s status, their seats were right at the front, offering the best and clearest view of the items.

In addition to viewing the items directly, each guest was given a tablet containing detailed information about the lots.

The only exception was the final, show-stopping piece. Its information was concealed, marked only with the word "Secret," which made it all the more mysterious.

Quentin Blackwood encouraged Ivy Sherwood to browse through the catalogue, but she just shook her head.

"What, trying to save me money?"

Of course, she knew he wasn’t short on cash; after all, Quentin Blackwood regularly dealt in sums of tens, or even hundreds, of millions.

"I don’t think our relationship should be about money, Quentin. Do you think..." Ivy Sherwood began, but just then, the auctioneer took the stage and started the proceedings.

"What was that?" Quentin Blackwood looked at her. He hadn’t quite heard what she said.

"It’s nothing. I just wanted to say that if I see something I like, I’ll bid on it myself. You don’t need to spend your money on me."

Quentin Blackwood turned his head to look at Ivy Sherwood. ’She seems a little upset. Has she misunderstood something?’

He didn’t want to buy things for her as some kind of compensation; he simply enjoyed spending money on her. It made him happy.

But since the auction was starting, Quentin Blackwood didn’t press the issue.

Several rows behind them, Thea Sherwood sat beside Charlie Rhodes, her eyes shining as she looked at the items on her tablet. "These are all so beautiful."

’I want them all,’ she thought. ’They must be incredibly expensive.’

If only Charlie Rhodes would buy one for her, she would die from happiness.

Thea Sherwood pointed directly at an item she fancied. "I want this one."

Charlie Rhodes caressed her hand. "We’ll see. I’ll bid on it for you if I can."

"Okay! I love you the most." Thea Sherwood leaned in and whispered in Charlie Rhodes’s ear, sweet-talking him until he was beaming.

The auction began, and as was typical, the first lot was an impressive one: an antique blue-and-white porcelain vase, rumored to have once graced the desk of an emperor in his imperial study.

The opening bid was five million. To the people in this room, such an amount was trivial, and the price quickly climbed past the ten million mark.

"What do you think of this vase?" Quentin Blackwood asked.

Ivy Sherwood shook her head. "It doesn’t look particularly old. The craftsmanship is fine, but it’s not worth this price. And it was definitely never on an emperor’s desk. Ten million would be the absolute limit, and it’s already at twenty million. The price is completely inflated."

A hint of admiration glinted in Quentin Blackwood’s eyes. He’d thought Ivy Sherwood was only an expert in perfumery.

"You know about antiques, too?"

"I know a little."

"Then how do you know it wasn’t from an imperial study?" Quentin Blackwood asked.

Ivy Sherwood explained, "Blue-and-white porcelain from this era is divided into two main types: pieces from official kilns and pieces from folk kilns. Official kiln porcelain is known for its exquisite, flawless craftsmanship and cultural significance, which is why it usually fetches a higher price. Folk kiln porcelain is cruder and bolder, so it’s not as valuable. Based on this piece’s craftsmanship, it’s not bad—it’s likely an imitation of an official kiln piece, but it’s actually from a folk kiln. Emperors only used items from designated imperial kilns, so something like this would never have been placed before him."

"The porcelain from that dynasty is generally categorized into three periods of production. Depending on the period, there are distinct differences in coloration, decorative patterns, and how the cobalt pigment bonds with the glaze, all due to variations in technique. Furthermore, changes in firing methods and other ceramic processes resulted in different final appearances. This piece can only be described as average—not the worst, but certainly not the best."

Her words truly made Quentin Blackwood see her in a new light.

He thought he knew her quite well, but it was now clear that Ivy Sherwood was full of surprises.

For instance, he never knew she understood antiques. Though she had humbly claimed to know just "a little," the ability to judge a piece’s quality and workmanship at a glance was beyond what most casual collectors could do.

’I wonder if she only knows about blue-and-white porcelain, or if her knowledge extends to other antiques as well?’

These people were not short on money, and the price was quickly driven even higher.

Quentin Blackwood, however, did not participate in this round of bidding.

In the end, one tycoon bought it for forty million.

The next few lots also fetched very handsome prices, and Jason Summers, sitting nearby, wore a satisfied smile.

Thea Sherwood’s jaw practically hit the floor. It was her first time attending one of these so-called high-society events, watching people spend fortunes on useless trinkets without even blinking.

She was once again mesmerized by the power of wealth. She resolved to climb her way to the top, no matter the cost!