"Sorry, sir."
The security guard in a black uniform looked at Xia Ping. "May I ask whether you have an invitation? Without one, you cannot attend this auction. Please leave at once."
His eyes were filled with disdain; clearly, he looked down on Xia Ping.
After all, Xia Ping simply did not look like some deep-pocketed tycoon, nor did he look like someone qualified to attend an auction.
Those who came to auctions were either old monsters with profound cultivation or descendants of wealthy, powerful clans. Even the way they traveled was far beyond ordinary.
The powerful arrived flying on swords, their aura terrifying.
The weaker ones came riding exotic beasts, surrounded by countless attendants in a mighty procession.
That was the bearing of the rich. Who came alone like Xia Ping? And the guard had just seen it himself—the kid had even taken a taxi here by himself.
It was obvious that this guy was nothing but a pauper. How could he possibly be qualified to attend such a top-tier auction?
"So I can't enter without an invitation? Then what's with those people? They didn't have invitations either." Xia Ping pointed out that Qian Shan and the others had been allowed in, so why not him?
"Hmph, those people are all famous big shots. They've long been registered with our auction company, so they can get in just by showing their faces. Naturally, they don't need invitations. As for you... heh heh." Though the black-uniformed guard refrained from saying the rest out of professional courtesy, his contempt was written all over his face.
The other guards also looked at Xia Ping with utter disdain, as though they would immediately beat him out of the place with clubs if he made any improper move.
"A poor brat wants to enter