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The fragrance of tea filled the private box, and the bustling noise from the auction hall reached their ears from time to time. Zoey gave a faint glance at Nathalie, who was sitting to Russell’s right, before lowering her gaze to the tea cup, watching the tea leaves float and sink. For some reason, she felt an unspoken sense of competition. Russell spoke softly, “Nathalie, you’re sitting in the wrong spot. Braeden was sitting here just now.” Nathalie smiled. “I know. I just poured the tea and sat down for a moment.” She glanced at Braeden, who had just entered the room, and stood up. “Braeden’s back. I’ll move back to my seat.” She sat down next to Zoey, a gentle, serene smile on her face. The auction hall soon quieted down as the host of Treasure Hall, an elderly man in his sevent