And then, they were known for their scandals, and who wouldn't know they were Li Feng's sons?
They reached the reception.
A woman in a sleek black cheongsam greeted them, clearly ready to deny entry, until Li Bo Yen casually handed her a black invitation card with silver embossing.
"Suite C09," he said, deadpan.
She scanned it. Paused. Blinked. Then bowed slightly. "Welcome, Young Masters." This card had been collected by their grandparents.
They moved as their eyes scanned the lavish lobby.
The walls were lined with digital projections of highlighted auction lots. Suspiciously anonymous guests in long coats and expensive jewelry mingled near the elevator banks.
Music drifted softly from invisible speakers, something classical, but heavy with tension.
"Let's not cause trouble today," Li Bo Yen said idly, already stealing a champagne flute from a passing waiter.
"I'm not the problem," Li Ren replied, pocketing a golden napkin for no reason at all. "You are."
