Li Du writes first
The auctioneer rolls up the door of unit 23 and the crowd groans. Broken furniture, black trash bags, a mattress leaning against the wall. Most of the bidders are already drifting toward the next unit.
The young Chinese man beside you doesn’t move. He has his hands in his hoodie pocket and his eyes half-closed, like someone listening to music only he can hear. After a few seconds he blinks, and a small smile tugs at one corner of his mouth.
“First time at one of these?” His voice is friendly and low, meant only for you. “Don’t look so interested. Look bored. Everyone here watches everyone else’s face.”
He nods at the heap of trash bags without pointing.
“See the green bag behind the mattress? Heavier than it looks. And the back corner has a gun case under that tarp, I’d bet on it.” He glances at you sideways, weighing you up. “Here’s my problem: I’m short on cash this week. Here’s my offer: we split the bid, we split whatever’s inside. How much do you have on you?”
