pertwk Chapter 30 School Anniversary
Chapter 30 School Anniversary
In September, the summer heat in Tokyo finally began to subside.
In front of the gate of St. Hua Women's College, two rows of tall ginkgo trees, though not yet fully yellow, already exude a refreshing autumnal feel in the air.
As the most prestigious girls' school in Japan, Seiwa's "Autumn Festival" is not a typical school festival. You won't find yakisoba stalls filled with the smell of cooking oil or students in mascot costumes handing out flyers here, and there won't be any of those desperate hawking for a few hundred yen.
This is a carefully crafted social carnival.
A long line of black luxury cars slowly drove into the school gate. Uniformed security personnel wearing white gloves respectfully guided the vehicles to park in designated areas. Those who stepped out of the cars were all prominent figures in Tokyo's political and business circles.
They ostensibly came to visit their daughter's school activities, but in reality, they came to confirm each other's place in this circle.
Central courtyard.
This is the area with the best view and the most central location on campus. In previous years, this area was usually occupied by the upperclassmen student council, but this year, a huge velvet curtain has turned it into a separate kingdom.
A golden rose was embroidered on the curtain.
"Salon de Rose" (Rose Salon).
This is the territory of the "Rose Society," a club founded by Satsuki Saionji, a first-year junior high school student.
Beneath the white European-style gazebo, a thick Persian carpet was laid out. Dozens of white round tables were arranged in a staggered pattern on the lawn, each covered with a lace tablecloth and set with an exquisite three-tiered pastry tower and bone china tea set.
The air was filled with the aroma of Darjeeling tea and the scent of expensive perfumes.
Satsuki sat in the main seat of the pavilion.
She wasn't wearing any fancy dress today, but rather a proper Saint Hua autumn uniform—a dark blue suit jacket, a gray pleated skirt, and a red ribbon tied at the collar meticulously.
Her only adornment was a small family crest brooch pinned to her chest.
Left three-pointed bark.
"President, the tea and refreshments have been replenished."
Ayako Yoshino walked over, holding a list in her hand. After Satsuki's "prophecy" saved her father's career, she started sticking to Satsuki at school and has now become his right-hand woman.
"Today's guests are 20% more than expected. Several ladies from Sumitomo Bank just asked about you."
"Let them sit for a while."
Satsuki picked up her teacup and took a small sip.
"The best seats should be reserved for the ladies from the Ministry of International Trade and Industry. Remember to separate them from the bank ladies to avoid awkwardness when discussing loans."
"Yes." Ayako nodded respectfully and turned to arrange the seats.
On the other side, Reiko Isokawa was directing several servants to adjust the lights on the auction stage.
"The lighting should be softer. Don't shine it directly on the exhibits; it should have that... hazy, dreamlike feel."
Reiko's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable air of authority. As a descendant of a political family, she seemed to have an innate ability to control situations.
Today, the "Rose Society," representing all first-year students, is holding a "charity auction" open to all. The auction aims to raise funds for orphanages in Tokyo to improve their winter living conditions. This is just tea time before the auction.
Many other club members were also wandering around inside, acting as conversation partners. Every now and then, light laughter could be heard coming from behind the curtain.
The entire "Rose Salon" operates like a sophisticated machine. Every guest who enters is immersed in a state of impeccable comfort. Ladies and gentlemen can learn about all sorts of interesting anecdotes from the academy while enjoying afternoon tea.
Just then, a commotion broke out at the entrance.
"Get out of the way! Don't you have eyes? This is a treasure I'm going to auction off!"
A sharp sound shattered the elegant atmosphere of the courtyard.
Masami Okura strode in, her high heels gleaming.
She wore a custom-made pink gown today, the skirt studded with sequins that dazzled in the sunlight. Her hair was styled in exaggerated waves, and she wore a huge pearl necklace.
Behind her, two servants were carefully carrying a glass cabinet covered with a red cloth.
"Yami, you're late."
Satsuki put down her teacup and looked calmly at her old classmate.
"Oh dear, I'm so sorry."
Yamei fanned herself exaggeratedly, causing her makeup to become slightly cakey.
"There are too many cars on the road. And my dad insisted that I bring this, saying it was to make the school look good. You know, sometimes being too rich is a problem."
Her voice was loud, as if she wanted everyone in the room to hear it.
However, the guests present did not show any envy. Instead, several ladies covered their mouths with their fans and whispered among themselves.
"Isn't that the Okura family's daughter?"
"Dressed like a Christmas tree..."
"My husband told me that Okura Realty is facing a tight cash flow situation lately. To be so high-profile at this time is really..."
Whispers drifted by like the wind.
Yamei's face stiffened for a moment, but she quickly regained her arrogant demeanor. She directed the servants to place the glass case in the most prominent position on the auction stage, even pushing aside several exhibits that were originally placed there.
"Satsuki-san, I don't think you mind me leaving my things here, do you?"
Yami looked at Satsuki defiantly.
"After all, it's a charity auction, so naturally the more valuable items should be placed first. Or is it that your 'Rose Society' doesn't have anything decent to offer and is afraid of being outdone by me?"
The surrounding air became quiet.
Ayako frowned, about to step forward to argue, but Satsuki stopped her with a raised hand.
Satsuki stood up and straightened her skirt.
"Of course I don't mind."
She smiled, a smile so perfect it was almost impeccable, yet it carried a condescending tolerance.
"Since Mr. Okura is so thoughtful, let's make it the 'grand finale' for today."
She deliberately emphasized the words "finale".
"However, I hope that this item is worthy of its status."
Yamei snorted and flicked her hair.
"Don't worry, it will definitely open your eyes."
……
It was 3 PM. The charity auction officially began.
The pavilion was already surrounded by people. In addition to students and parents of Sheng Hua University, there were also many celebrities who had come after hearing the news.
Despite the auction's simple setup, the audience consisted of prominent figures. They whispered amongst themselves, curious to see what this auction, organized by a group of children, was all about.
Reiko was the auctioneer. She was wearing a tuxedo, and although she was small, she looked quite professional. She held a gavel and tapped it on the table.
"Distinguished guests, welcome to the 'Rose Salon' charity auction."
"All proceeds from this auction will be donated to an orphanage in Tokyo to improve winter heating facilities for the children."
The parents applauded enthusiastically. For these wealthy individuals, donating money was merely a formality; their greater concern was what they could buy at the auction, and... from whom.
The first few items were handicrafts made by students or small decorative items that were not used at home. The prices were moderate, mostly selling for tens of thousands of yen, and the buyers were mostly just there to show their support.
"Next up is lot number nine."
Reiko raised her voice slightly.
"Provided by Masami Okura".
Two servants stepped forward and ripped off the red cloth.
"Wow--"
A low gasp rippled through the crowd.
Inside the glass case, a huge brooch is on display. On a gold base, it is set with a sapphire the size of a quail egg, surrounded by a dense ring of small diamonds. Bathed in sunlight, the brooch emits a dazzling light, almost blinding.
"This was brought back from South Africa by my father."
Yamei walked onto the stage, picked up the microphone, and beamed with a smug smile.
"The main stone is a 5-carat royal sapphire, surrounded by 30 D-color diamonds. The cost alone exceeds five million yen."
"Since this is charity, the Okura family certainly can't be stingy. Starting bid: one million yen!"
She looked around, waiting for the tidal wave of bidding.
However, the audience remained deathly silent.
One million yen.
In a year when the first signs of a bubble are just beginning to emerge, this is certainly not a small sum. But the issue isn't the money.
The problem is that this brooch is just... too tacky.
That nouveau riche style of design, that kind of shape that seems to want to emblazone the words "I'm rich" on it, is completely out of step with the aesthetics of a long-established aristocratic school like Shenghua.
More importantly, everyone present is well-informed. They all know that the Okura family recently suffered a setback in their Chiba project, and the banks are pressing for repayment. To bring out such valuable items to liquidate at this time, ostensibly for charity, is actually a display of wealth—a blatant attempt to "put on a show" that is a major taboo in true high society.
"One million..."
Yamei's smile faltered.
"This is a royal sapphire! Does nobody recognize its value?"
The ladies in the audience lowered their heads and sipped their tea, pretending not to hear. Several businessmen who wanted to curry favor with the Okura family hesitated for a moment, and were about to raise their placards, but found that the bigwigs around them did not move, so they awkwardly lowered their hands.
An awkward atmosphere filled the air.
Yamei stood on the stage, the microphone in her hand feeling like a hot potato. Her face was flushed red, and fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead; her previous arrogant demeanor had completely vanished.
Just then, a lazy voice rang out.
"One million one hundred thousand."
In the corner, a nouveau riche businessman in the building materials business held up a sign.
Yamei breathed a sigh of relief. Although the price was far lower than expected, at least the item didn't go unsold.
"One million one hundred thousand! Anything higher?" Reiko tapped the gavel.
No one answered.
"make a deal."
The gavel fell.
Yamei slunk off the stage. Her prized "grand finale" item had only sold for one-fifth of its cost. And the buyer was a burly, uncultured building materials merchant.
She felt that the way people looked at her had changed, especially the members of the "Rose Society". Although no one deliberately came up to humiliate her, the feeling of being ignored and the omnipresent gazes drove her crazy.
"Next up is the last item in this auction."
Reiko's voice suddenly became solemn.
"Provided by Chairman Satsuki Saionji."
Satsuki stood up and took out a slender brocade pouch from the box behind her.
She didn't ask the servants for help, but instead untied the knot herself and took out a folding fan.
There were neither diamonds nor gold.
It was a slightly yellowed paper fan. The fan ribs were made of ordinary Xiangfei bamboo, and the fan surface was also some worn washi paper.
The people in the audience craned their necks, some of them puzzled.
Is this the treasure of the Saionji family? It looks like junk that you could buy for a few hundred yen at a used bookstore.
Yamei sat in the audience and let out a mocking laugh, trying to appear intimidating.
"Is this what they call 'style'? A broken fan?"
Satsuki ignored her.
She gently unfolded the folding fan.
"brush."
The fan unfolded, revealing the characters on it.
It was a waka poem written with a brush, the characters were elegant and powerful, and although the ink had faded a bit, one could still feel the writer's state of mind at the time.
"Okuyama's red leaves are stepping on the red leaves, and the deer's cry is the sound of autumn."
"This fan itself isn't worth much."
Satsuki's voice resonated throughout the venue through the microphone. Her voice was calm and unhurried, as if she were telling an ancient story.
"This is the fan my grandmother used when she attended her last autumn poetry gathering at the Imperial Palace in 1945."
The entire room fell silent.
Showa 20 (1945).
That was a special year.
"At that time, Tokyo had just suffered a massive bombing and was devastated. My grandmother brought this fan to the palace to present a waka poem praying for peace to Her Majesty the Empress. She wanted to use this fan to urge Her Majesty the Empress to end the war as soon as possible and usher in peace."
Satsuki's fingers gently stroked the fan.
"My grandmother told me that everyone was very poor back then, with no diamonds or gems. But this fan carries the yearning of everyone in that era for 'rebirth'."
"Today, we sit here enjoying prosperity and peace. But I hope we will not forget how all of this came about. We must cherish this hard-won peace, remember history, and never let the tragedy of war happen to our nation again."
"The starting bid for this fan is..."
Satsuki closed her folding fan and looked at the audience with clear eyes.
"Ten thousand yen."
A brief silence.
Then, a calm voice rang out.
One million.
Everyone turned around.
The person holding up the sign was a managing director of Sumitomo Bank.
"Two million."
Immediately afterwards, the vice president of Mitsubishi Heavy Industries raised a sign.
Three million.
The wife of the director of the Ministry of International Trade and Industry also raised her hand.
Prices skyrocketed.
The auction has transcended the fan itself. It's about buying a piece of history, a sentiment, and, more importantly, paying tribute to the Saionji family—a unique entity that connects the past and the future, the imperial family and the common people.
Yami stared blankly at the scene.
Her prized diamonds seemed so pale and powerless in the face of these old objects.
She suddenly understood what Satsuki had just said.
"I hope this item is worthy of its status."
It turns out that true value is never measured in money.
Five million.
A deep voice came from the back row.
Everyone turned their heads.
The one holding the sign is Shuichi Saionji.
He sat in the last row with a gentle smile on his face.
"Father?" Satsuki was taken aback.
"This is my mother's keepsake." Shuichi stood up and straightened his suit. "As her son, I have an obligation to buy it back."
"Besides, this amount of money is nothing for the children in those orphanages."
The audience erupted in applause.
This was a perfect performance.
The daughter donated her grandmother's belongings to charity, and the father bought them back at a high price. This not only did a good deed, but also preserved the family heirloom, and demonstrated the warmth and heritage of the family.
In comparison, the Okura family's act of using unsold jewelry to offset taxes was simply like that of a clown.
"Five million once, five million twice..."
Reiko held the gavel high.
"make a deal!"
"Bang!"
The crisp sound of the knocking signaled the end of this silent war.
As the sun sets, golden rays bathe the courtyard.
Satsuki stood in the center of the pavilion, surrounded by countless celebrities. They vied to shake her hand, praised her taste, inquired about the membership requirements of the "Rose Society," and wanted their children to join as well.
Masami Okura stood alone outside the crowd.
The Rolls-Royce that was supposed to pick her up had already pulled up at the door, and the driver was urging her to hurry up.
She looked at Gaoyue, who was being fawned over by everyone, and twisted the handkerchief in her hand into a ball.
She lost.
We lost completely.
In this game called "High Society," the chip in her hand—money—turns out to be the least valuable thing.
Satsuki seemed to sense something, turned her head, and looked through the crowd to land on Masami.
She neither mocked nor boasted like a victor.
She simply nodded slightly and performed a standard curtsy.
Yamei bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. She turned abruptly, lifted her skirt, and rushed towards the school gate as if fleeing.
That figure looked as pathetic as a defeated peacock.
Satsuki withdrew her gaze and picked up her teacup again.
The black tea had cooled down a bit, but it was still rich and flavorful.