Inside the main hall, a faint melody drifted from the upper floor, cascading softly into the spacious chamber below. The composition itself was not a rare masterpiece, yet its invisible performers lent it a mysterious grace.
The fact that no one could see who played only heightened the sense of refinement, as though even mediocrity here had been transformed into elegance.
Beneath the feet of the gathered elites spread a lush carpet, dyed a serene green-blue. It was thick to the point of indulgence, muffling footsteps with a cushiony warmth. Its hue was not gaudy, not meant to dazzle the eye, and yet the understated texture whispered luxury to every stride.
Each table bore a postcard inscribed with a name.
The first row, naturally, was reserved for the Royal Family, the cranes amidst this flock of common chickens. Four tables, no more, no less, each arranged with solemn dignity.
A single thought rose in everyone's mind like a tide. This Aristocratic Hall is remarkable. Even the Royal Family has not been separated into some distant, untouchable space. They dine among us!
And with that realization, the nobles and magnates scattered through the hall began to straighten their spines and puff their chests. A giddy thrill surged in their veins.
To sit here, within reach of the Imperial Family, was this not the very essence of aristocracy?
The second row belonged to the great clans, with no distinctions drawn between high or low; shoulder to shoulder, they sat.
The third row was for the descendants of honored officials and wealthy noblemen.
The fourth row accommodated the prosperous and influential of Tian Xiang who fell short of the foremost circles, yet still glittered among common folk.
Between each row, curtains of pearls cascaded from above, forming shimmering veils. These hazy partitions veiled the faces of those in front, making it difficult to see beyond one's rank.
It was a subtle arrangement, at once granting intimacy and reminding all of their place.
Every corner of the hall held a tall incense burner shaped like a red-crowned crane. From their beaks issued coils of blue smoke, spiraling upward in elegant whorls. The faint fragrance calmed hearts and steadied tempers, a tranquil mist weaving through the air.
Many had come early, waiting for half a day already. Yet impatience did not mar their faces; instead, anticipation sharpened their eyes, excitement smoldered in their chests.
Dozens of young maidens drifted gracefully through the rows, their robes the pale yellow of early spring blossoms. Each moved with a butterfly's ease, balancing trays of steaming cups. Their light smiles and modest propriety added both color and charm, fluttering softly through the atmosphere like golden wings.
Before the first row hung a vast tapestry, milky-white and heavy, as though it had descended from the heavens.
It concealed all behind it, like a wall that promised revelation.
Then, the music ceased.
The crowd's hearts leapt in unison.
Finally, the opening gong of this grand play has been struck!
Without a sound, the tapestry rose. Behind it lay a snow-white platform, glowing as if carved from pure frost. At once, a flood of dazzling light erupted, refracting off gems embedded around its perimeter.
The hall glittered in a storm of radiance, forcing many to squint, their eyes wide with awe.
At the center of the platform stood a single desk. Upon it rested a hammer, the hammer of judgment, whose fall would decide fates tonight.
The entire arrangement was breathtaking, its artistry overwhelming. Compared to the famed Magnificent Jewel Hall that was once hailed as the pinnacle of Tian Xiang's auctions, this was like a pheasant stumbling upon a golden phoenix or a ragged beggar suddenly standing beside a crowned prince.
Tap... Tap... Tap...
Then came the footsteps.
The sound was heavy, deliberate, echoing like drums across marble. Each step drew the gaze of the audience toward the shadows beyond.
'Who is it?' They wondered breathlessly. 'What kind of colossal figure can make footsteps resound with such power?'
And then, the lights dimmed.
Out of the gloom waddled not some towering colossus, but a mountainous mound of flesh clad in a flowing black gown. With every step, his vast body quivered and rippled, like gelatin set in motion. His fair, glossy skin peeked out beneath the dark fabric, pale and gleaming, as though freshly boiled pork stuffed into steamed bread.
He bounced forward with curious liveliness, his flesh jiggling in rhythm with his gait. Yet for all that ludicrous appearance, he wore an air of grave dignity, as though every tremor of his bulk carried authority. His small eyes swept the hall with pride, daring anyone to laugh.
"Since everyone here has received the invitation from our hall, all of you are the real aristocrats of Tian Xiang City. And thus, our honored guests!" Tang Yuan's booming voice reverberated through the hall. His tone carried the weight of solemnity, though his wobbling jowls and quivering belly threatened to ruin the grandeur. Still, he pressed on with great dignity, puffing out his chest as though he were a general before his army.
"I, Tang Yuan, am the chief auctioneer of the Aristocratic Hall. On behalf of this hall, I represent the three families comprised of the Prince Equivalent, the Jun Family, and the Tang Family. I am here to greet the aristocrats on behalf of these families, and extend a very warm welcome to all!"
With that, Fatty Tang performed the unthinkable bow.
A great wave of surprise rippled through the crowd. For a man like Tang Yuan, bowing was akin to moving mountains. His body swayed, his gown ballooned, and his face reddened with strain, but somehow he managed the feat without collapsing onto the platform.
The applause was instant. Warm, thunderous, and enthusiastic.
Of course, no one truly cared for his words.
What made their blood race was that single phrase: Tian Xiang City's Aristocrats.
That title was worth its weight in gold!
From this day forward, they could wield it like a sword against rivals, standing tall where once they had bent.
Fatty Tang, oblivious to the fact that he was being applauded more for the word than the man, basked in the glow of imagined glory. His ego swelled to bursting; he was sure he had just delivered a performance worthy of history.
"The Aristocratic Hall, as the name applies, is the hall where only genuine aristocrats can come. Though what is an aristocrat?"
At this point, Tang Yuan attempted something dangerous. He tried to clasp his hands behind his back in the manner Jun Mo Xie had instructed, a pose meant to convey calmness, hidden wisdom, and elegance. Alas, his arms were like short oars trying to row around a mountain of flesh. His fingers strained and wobbled, his shoulders creaked, but the two hands never met.
To the crowd, the sight resembled a bear standing upright, fumbling clumsily to appear dignified.
Stifled snickers rippled through the hall. Some covered their mouths with fans; others buried their faces in cups of tea to hide twitching lips.
Yet Fatty Tang, undeterred, swept his small eyes proudly across the crowd. His steps were heavy, his robe billowed with each wobble, but in his mind, he was the picture of grace. "The so-called aristocrat," he declared, his voice trembling with excitement, "is a man on top who has the best of qualities! For example, this—"
With a dramatic flourish, he turned his hand, and resting in his palm was a potato.
The hall froze.
"This half-a-kg crop," He continued proudly, "can be bought at the local market for three coins. An ordinary vegetable, nothing more! However!"
His voice rose in grandeur, but his throat clicked audibly as his eyes lingered on the round lump.
The nobles were dumbfounded.
This was supposed to be a discourse on nobility, and he had produced a potato?
That coarse tuber had never graced the plates of the highborn. Many could not decide whether to laugh or cry.
"This half-a-kg 'thing' worth three coins," Fatty went on, puffing himself up like a learned sage, "is cheap, yes, but convenient! Boil it in water, and it becomes a meal. Slice it thin, and it becomes many. Slice it thinner still, and one can make even more!"
He smiled smugly, certain he had just revealed a philosophical gem. In his own mind, he was a master scholar discoursing on life's truths.
But to the audience, it was as though a she-pig had waddled onstage and pulled out a lump of dirt with great ceremony. The twitching faces and clenched jaws told the rest.
"However!" Tang Yuan pressed on, his tone swelling with confidence, "in a tavern, it does not matter how a vegetable is cut, so long as it is cooked into a dish. Even a cheap potato can yield a hundred times the profit! A man who eats such a potato in a tavern is, compared to one who eats it at home, already an aristocrat! For what aristocrats consume is not the thing itself… but its price!"
His little eyes gleamed with pride as he let the words hang dramatically.
"And yet! That is still but a low level!" His fat finger stabbed the air as he waddled forward. "If a fine restaurant serves the same preparation — and dares charge two or three silver coins — then naturally, its quality rises! And higher still—"
Now he leaned forward, his voice lowering conspiratorially, his small eyes narrowing with a lewd glimmer. "If in the brothels of Spirit Fog Lake, a courtesan skilled in her art were to serve this sliced potato for twenty silver coins… would not the aristocrats here still buy it?"
His eyebrows waggled, his lips curled into knowing smirks, and he winked as though he had just unveiled the secrets of the universe.
The hall erupted with laughter.
--- ✦ ✦ ✦ ---
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