Chapter 34: The Aura of Five Million
Xu Youyou quickly familiarized herself with storage auctions.
Despite being called an auction, it was essentially treasure hunting. Participants, known as “treasure hunters,” weren’t bidding on valuable collections but on abandoned storage units.
These storage units might contain antiques, gold, and jewelry—or they could be filled entirely with junk. After all, anything truly valuable might have already been picked over by the storage management company.
Xu Youyou soon found out about an upcoming storage auction that very afternoon at the Port of New York, featuring seven storage units up for bidding.
The largest unit was around 20 cubic meters—about the size of a typical garage.
From the pictures, the units were packed with all sorts of random items. While there was a chance she’d walk away empty-handed, Xu Youyou still wanted to join in on the excitement.
“Miss Xu, it’s best to bring a local with you to these kinds of auctions,” the hotel butler advised.
Xu Youyou immediately understood. Given that even high-end private museum auctions had nearly ended in chaos, a storage auction was bound to be even more intense.
She not only brought her two regular bodyguards but also hired a local security guard for the day. Seeing the bulge at his waist—likely a firearm—gave her an extra sense of security.
The auction site was near the port. In recent years, the boom in personal storage rentals had led to many people falling behind on payments, causing their storage units to be seized and auctioned off by management companies.
By the time Xu Youyou arrived, more than twenty treasure hunters had already gathered. She wasn’t the only Chinese participant; she spotted a young Chinese man in the crowd who looked to be in his early twenties.
As the auction began, a staff member from the storage company wasted no time with pleasantries and simply laid out the rules:
“Each unit can be inspected for three minutes—no touching. Bids must increase by at least $20 each time.”
With that, the first unit’s roll-up door was opened, and a timer was started.
The crowd surged forward, peering into the unit. Xu Youyou squeezed in among them, realizing she had underestimated the competition.
Unlike her empty-handed approach, the other bidders came prepared with gear—mini spotlights, magnifying glasses, and flashlights—nearly blinding her with their reflections.
“You didn’t bring anything?”
Xu Youyou turned to see the young Chinese man she had noticed earlier.
“I decided to come at the last minute, so I didn’t prepare anything,” she explained.
The man pulled out a battered flashlight. “Want it? Five bucks.”
Xu Youyou wasn’t surprised. Nobody would strike up a conversation out of sheer kindness. She shook her head. “No need, I’m just here for fun.”
The young man looked disappointed but quickly refocused on checking out the unit.
Nearby, two white men chatted openly, likely assuming Xu Youyou wouldn’t understand.
“I got an inside tip—there’s porcelain in one of those boxes.”
“Porcelain doesn’t necessarily mean antiques.”
“If it’s a full set with no visible damage, even if it’s not antique, it should at least cover the cost.”
“So, are you bidding?”
“I’ll try, as long as it stays within this range.”
Xu Youyou turned slightly to catch a glimpse of the amount they were signaling—only to meet their sharp, warning glares.
She already knew there was nothing new under the sun. While the auction was technically a blind bid, seasoned treasure hunters always found ways to gain inside information.
Lacking equipment, she could only rely on her eyes to scan the unit’s contents.
It was packed to the brim with stacked cardboard boxes, many sealed with tape, making it difficult to tell what was inside.
“The bidding starts at $100. Minimum bid increments of $20,” the auctioneer announced.
The young Chinese man was the first to bid. “One hundred twenty.”
Another person quickly followed. “One hundred forty.”
Xu Youyou watched as the price climbed steadily, reaching $300.
She turned to her system. “Is there anything worth grabbing in here? Everyone seems dead set on this one.”
[Just a pile of junk. Nothing worth real money.]
Xu Youyou caught a nuance in its response. “Wait, does that mean there’s some money to be made?”
[Don’t call me that—it’s embarrassing!]
But it still answered her. [Around six thousand dollars.]
Hearing that, Xu Youyou jumped into the bidding. “Four hundred!”
The crowd fell silent, staring at her as if she had broken some unspoken rule.
She had raised the bid by a full $100 in one go—completely against their usual rhythm.
“Yellow-skinned pig, go back to your country! You’re not welcome here!”
The insult came from a young, freckled white man standing next to her.
Xu Youyou’s bodyguards moved in to handle him, but she stopped them, frowning as she demanded, “Apologize for your inappropriate words.”
Freckles sneered. “What, is the little yellow pig mad? Do you think this is—”
Before he could finish, Xu Youyou grabbed his outstretched finger, yanked him forward, and swept his legs. He face-planted on the ground with a thud.
“Apologize!” she ordered fiercely.
Freckles was visibly shaken.
“Tom, you’re pathetic! Can’t even handle a little girl?” His companion jeered.
But Tom’s eyes were filled with fear. “She knows kung fu!“
Only he knew just how strong Xu Youyou’s grip had been.
Xu Youyou pretended to kick him.
Tom flinched, then blurted out, “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that!”
Satisfied, Xu Youyou let it go.
The auctioneer, seeing the situation settled, resumed. “Four hundred dollars. Anyone bidding higher?”
“Four hundred twenty,” Tom’s companion countered immediately, his gaze challenging.
Xu Youyou recognized them as being on the same side.
She wasn’t about to back down over a few hundred bucks.
“Five hundred!”
It was only a $500 bid, but she delivered it with the confidence of five million.
