My Identities Were All Exposed After I Was Pampered by Everyone at My Grandfather's House! Chapter 367 - Chapter 367: The Auction

The day of the auction arrived swiftly.

It was common practice for attendees of such clandestine events to forgo their true identities, opting instead for aliases and masks.

Qiao Yue scanned the assembled crowd, seeking Andy.

He was nowhere to be found.

“Andy, where are you? Isn’t today the big day?”

“Stay calm, I’ll make it in time.”

Andy’s voice responded, the faint sound of waves suggesting he was likely on a ship’s deck.

Before Qiao Yue could press further, the third auction item was presented.

It was a pistol, intricately carved and bearing the character “Qing.”

“This firearm was a donation from Mr. K, residing in Room 304. It was a cherished item of his late beloved, offered as a reminder to all present to treasure what they hold dear.”

Qiao Yue’s gaze shifted towards the enigmatic Mr. K.

Eschewing the typical black suit, he was clad in a flowing white robe, its sleeves billowing as if caught in a gentle breeze, lending him an ethereal appearance.

A quick glance at his hand revealed a distinctive scar, confirming Qiao Yue’s suspicion: it matched the Godfather’s mark.

It seemed the legendary Mr. K was, in fact, the Godfather in disguise.

Despite the pistol’s commendable condition and superior materials, its age and evident wear cast doubt on its functionality.

Even with a starting bid of 500,000 yuan, a sum negligible to most in attendance, no one seemed eager to acquire a potentially defunct firearm.

“Does the gun still function?”

“Indeed, who can guarantee the efficacy of such an antiquated piece? We risk purchasing a relic.”

A murmur of debate rippled through the attendees, yet Mr. K, the subject of their discussion, remained silent, observing the gathering with quiet contemplation.

“Perhaps we could have someone adept with firearms demonstrate its capability?” the emcee suggested, his attention then turning to Qiao Yue. “Miss, would you oblige us?”

Qiao Yue rose with deliberate grace and ascended the stage.

She took the pistol into her hand.

Faint traces of bloodstains still adhered to the metal, and the engraved “Qing” character was noticeably abraded. As her eyes traced the worn inscription, a sharp pain pierced Qiao Yue’s heart.

A fragmented memory, unbidden, surfaced in her mind.

Amidst a conflagration, a woman raised a pistol, aiming it at a man across from her. He, standing calmly amid the inferno, his white robe billowing, gazed back.

“Austin, why won’t you release us? I have never caused you any harm. What is your motive?” The woman’s voice was strained and rough.

“Teacher, I hold you in the highest regard. If you consent to be mine, I shall grant you and your child safe passage. However, you must return with me to the Eugene family, where I shall bestow upon you a new identity and make you my bride eternally.”

The man’s voice, resonating with unnerving clarity within this recollection, was unmistakably the Godfather’s.

Qiao Qing instinctively covered Qiao Yue’s ears.

This was the memory of the five-year-old Qiao Yue.

The flames climbed higher and higher, threatening to consume the entire structure.

From a distance, the man watched, a faint, amused smile playing on his lips. “Teacher, why do you resist? Joined with you, both the AST and the Eugene family could command the world.”

“I will never partake in your wicked schemes!”

Despite her ears being covered, the voices of her mother and the man penetrated Qiao Yue’s consciousness.

The next fragment of Qiao Yue’s memory dissolved into darkness, consumed by flames.

Subsequently, her awareness was filled with the sterile scent of disinfectant within a hospital setting.

A golden pocket watch dangled before her eyes, its rhythmic swing accompanied by the intonation of peculiar, repetitive phrases.

“Qiao Yue, your mother succumbed to illness. Your mother died of illness.”

This was clearly a session of induced hypnosis.

Qiao Yue tightened her grip on the pistol, a desperate attempt to banish the intrusive memories.

“Miss, we have an apple here. If you shoot the apple with the pistol, you will prove the firearm’s continued functionality,” the host declared, his smile devoid of genuine warmth, replaced by an almost mechanical pleasantness.

Qiao Yue’s gaze settled on Mr. K in the distance. She raised the pistol, her hand trembling slightly, as the past rushed back with overwhelming force.

She found herself in the hospital again, the same pistol placed into her hand by the man.

“You must master this weapon. This is your inaugural lesson,” he had said, his expression softened by a gentle smile as he looked at her.

“But why must I learn such things?” the young Qiao Yue had inquired.

“Only by acquiring all these skills can you step into her shoes and become my bride.”