A Billionaire’s Way of “Saving Money”

It wasn’t just the assistant’s imagination—Ji Fengjing’s seating was objectively impressive.

The spot he occupied, right next to Wen Xingshen, wasn’t just the best seat for the auction; it was the “C-position” for the entire stage. These seats were never sold to the public; they were exclusive invitations reserved for high-profile figures. Usually, the people sitting here were industry titans.

The fact that Ji Fengjing was sitting here meant he was either a mogul himself or a pampered scion of a wealthy family. The assistant stared at him for so long that Ji Fengjing’s head filled with question marks.

“What is it…?” Ji Fengjing asked.

The assistant said gloomily, “I used to think you were just a typical nouveau riche second-generation rich kid. It seems I overthought it.”

Ji Fengjing nodded. “You definitely overthought it.” He came from a normal family; how could he be a rich kid? To this day, he still hadn’t figured out how his humble, honest father had managed to leave him such a massive mansion.

“I see now,” the assistant murmured, looking dazed. “You’re an old-money second-generation rich kid.”

That explained everything. Only someone from that world could afford to live next to his cousin and snag a ticket for this specific seat.

Ji Fengjing was baffled. “No, where are you getting this? I’m really just a regular person.”

The assistant gave him a meaningful look. “Right, right. A ‘regular person.’ I get it.” As the saying went, true blue-bloods were well-bred and kept a low profile. Only those with nothing to show for themselves felt the need to flaunt wealth.

The assistant decided Ji Fengjing was just like him—someone who didn’t want people to know their background, someone who wanted to carve out their own path with their own two hands!

Feeling like he had found a kindred spirit, the assistant’s gaze toward Ji Fengjing became increasingly fervent. “Brother.” He leaned over, but since Wen Xingshen was sitting between them, he had to stretch his arm across his cousin’s chest to grab Ji Fengjing’s hand. “Only you understand what’s in my heart. From now on, we’re true brothers!”

Ji Fengjing: “…?”

“Sit properly.” Wen Xingshen expressionlessly pushed the wandering hand away.

The assistant obeyed, but his eyes remained burning with passion. He started running through names in his head. Ji… which elite family is named Ji? I haven’t heard of one… I must have been away from the high-society circles for too long!

“Don’t listen to his nonsense,” Wen Xingshen said tonelessly, noticing Ji Fengjing’s confusion. “He just makes things up as he goes.”

Ji Fengjing smiled. “He’s young.”

Wen Xingshen’s gaze landed on his face. “You aren’t exactly old yourself.”

Ji Fengjing did look young. His features sat somewhere between a boy and a man; when he smiled, he looked warm and gentle, like the winter sun.

Ji Fengjing shook his head. “I’m not that young.”

“How old?” Wen Xingshen asked.

“Twenty-four. Twenty-five next year.” Ji Fengjing teased, “Rounding up, I’m basically pushing thirty. I’m getting old.”

Wen Xingshen, who was already thirty, went silent for a moment. Why does everyone who claims to be ‘old’ always add that they’re ‘pushing thirty’? His cousin, Pei Yihan, grumbled the same thing every day.

After a long pause, Wen Xingshen spoke slowly. “Is thirty… considered old?”

Ji Fengjing was about to say that while it isn’t “old,” it certainly isn’t “young” anymore, but then he remembered something. His father had been exactly thirty when he adopted him. At that time, his father had seemed like a mountain—a man who radiated a total sense of security.

Ji Fengjing’s expression softened at the memory. He looked at Wen Xingshen with total sincerity. “No. Actually, I think thirty is when a man is at his most charming and mature.”

Wen Xingshen met his gaze. The clarity and earnestness in those eyes made it impossible to doubt his sincerity. Ji Fengjing truly believed that men of this age were at their peak.

Wen Xingshen quickly looked away. The lights in the hall dimmed just then, signaling the start of the auction. The shadows helped hide the fact that his face had suddenly gone hot.

Ji Fengjing assumed the conversation was over. He focused his mind, scanning the room to observe the security layout. Then, a low murmur of agreement reached his ears.

“…Mm,” Wen Xingshen said softly. “You’re right.”

Ji Fengjing instinctively looked back at him. Wen Xingshen didn’t turn his head, but he had already pulled out his phone and opened his WeChat QR code.

“Let’s add each other.”

The charity auction officially began.

Ji Fengjing’s phone now held a new friend—the Movie King’s private WeChat. He scratched his head, not quite understanding how they had suddenly become “digital friends,” but figured it made sense for neighbors.

He quickly turned his attention to the stage. His seat was close enough that if anything went wrong with the auction items, he would be the first to reach them. This was exactly why the organizers had “offered” this prime spot to the Special Combat Division.

The first few items were expensive but not rare. To someone like Ji Fengjing, who had no use for luxury goods, they seemed ordinary. However, he appreciated seeing wealthy people throwing money at good causes.

“Nothing you want to bid on?” Wen Xingshen’s voice was lowered. Nine items had passed, and Wen Xingshen had already won two of them.

Ji Fengjing shook his head. “I’m just watching.” He didn’t have the money, and his priority was monitoring Zhou Kai’s mission.

Wen Xingshen didn’t push it until a specific piece of blue-and-white porcelain appeared. He immediately noticed the youth beside him sit up straight, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the stage.

“You want to buy this?” Wen Xingshen asked.

Ji Fengjing leaned in close to Wen Xingshen’s ear, whispering, “That’s a national treasure. The National Museum wants to buy it back.”

His warm breath brushed against Wen Xingshen’s ear. Wen Xingshen’s body stiffened slightly. He asked casually, “I heard you wanted to bid too?”

Ji Fengjing gave him a strange look. He didn’t have the funds, and the museums had already pooled their resources to ensure its return. Why would he compete with the state? Even if he did have the money, he would have donated it immediately.

“It’s a national treasure,” Ji Fengjing whispered. “It has immense research and heritage value. I think… it belongs to the country. That’s more meaningful than it being in a private collection, don’t you think?”

Wen Xingshen fell into thought for a moment, then nodded. “Mm.”

Then, he raised his paddle.

“Ninety million.”

The price instantly jumped by twenty million. The museum representatives panicked; they had only pooled seventy million, assuming that would be enough for a charity auction.

The bidding didn’t stop. Someone else countered with ninety-five million. Wen Xingshen calmly added another five million.

With a heavy sigh, the museum staff conceded, their faces filled with disappointment. The wealthy Movie King had just dropped over a hundred million RMB to secure the porcelain.

Before Ji Fengjing could even process it, Wen Xingshen was already on the phone with his manager, telling him to contact the National Museum to start the donation process.

Ji Fengjing was floored. “You… you spent all that money just to donate it?”

“Mm,” Wen Xingshen replied tonelessly. “Saving the country some money.”

Ji Fengjing’s eyes widened, filling with a deep, unshielded respect. “You’re… you’re a really good person.”

If he ever had that kind of money, he’d want to be just like Wen Xingshen—throwing cash at his motherland.

Caught by the sheer admiration in Ji Fengjing’s eyes, Wen Xingshen looked away awkwardly, his throat tightening. “You’re also…” pretty good.

Ji Fengjing didn’t catch that last bit. “What?”

“I said,” Wen Xingshen resumed his expressionless mask, “I have too much money. It’s a waste if I don’t spend it.”

Ji Fengjing: “…” Thanks, I feel sufficiently poor now.