Chapter 1: The Sanctity of Private Property? Nonsense

Los Angeles International Airport, Baggage Inquiry Counter.

Xiao Ran suppressed his simmering anger, clenched his molars, and asked, "How can I get my suitcase back? There are family photos inside—I must retrieve it."

The African-American woman behind the counter checked the computer with a face full of impatience. "You'll have to attend the lost luggage auction and try to bid for your suitcase."

"Luckily for you, the auction is today."

Hearing this, Xiao Ran felt as if his lungs might burst with rage. After months of back-and-forth, this was the outcome? How could he not be furious? But he had no choice but to accept it.

"Alright, tell me where the luggage auction is being held."

Upon learning the location, he turned and strode quickly toward the venue.

No sooner had he turned than he muttered curses under his breath in Mandarin, his words sharp with irritation.

"Sanctity of private property? What a joke. 'Wind may enter, rain may enter, but the king may not enter'—all nonsense!"

"For two months, they kept saying they didn’t know where my suitcase was. I finally managed to come here, and those bastards sent my suitcase to auction!"

He hadn’t finished his tirade when a teasing voice suddenly sounded over his Bluetooth headset.

"Don’t get worked up, just enjoy the ride, alright?"

"Enjoy? I promise I won’t cry, is that enough?"

Xiao Ran replied with a mixture of laughter and frustration.

His words were met with a burst of laughter on the other end.

Hearing their amusement, Xiao Ran could only retort with a laugh and a curse.

"Do any of you have a shred of empathy? Gloating at a time like this!"

The laughter grew louder in his ear.

Xiao Ran was a native of the capital city, currently studying at UCLA, set to graduate this year. Last December, he flew home to spend the New Year with his family. But unforeseen circumstances forced him to leave early and fly back to Los Angeles.

Misfortune, however, followed him throughout the journey. First, a thunderstorm nearly caused the plane to crash over Canadian territory. He escaped disaster, but was knocked unconscious during violent turbulence and suffered a fractured left leg.

When he awoke, he found himself in a hospital in Vancouver.

A hundred days to heal bone and muscle!

He spent the next three months recovering in hospital.

Fortunately, he had been flying with Emirates. The wealthy Arab airline covered all medical expenses and paid out accident insurance, so he made a modest profit.

But his suitcase had already been sent to Los Angeles, left in the airport warehouse, untouched.

Once his body fully healed, Xiao Ran left Vancouver and rushed to Los Angeles. Upon arrival, he was confined to his apartment for another two months, unable to go anywhere.

During that time, he called the airport over a dozen times, trying to retrieve his suitcase. Every time, the staff gave the same answer: they didn’t know where it was.

But Xiao Ran had to get his suitcase back.

His laptop had been destroyed in the earlier accident, lost somewhere along the way. Thankfully, he had backup files on a USB drive—and that drive was inside the suitcase.

All his graduation design materials and thesis were stored there. If he couldn’t recover the suitcase, he wouldn’t be able to graduate—he might have to postpone his graduation, or worse, his entire study abroad experience would be wasted.

Two months passed. As soon as he was able to go out, he rushed to the airport to retrieve his luggage. Instead, the Americans had sent his suitcase to auction. How could he not be infuriated?

Like many Chinese students studying in the US, Xiao Ran occasionally did shopping on behalf of others to earn some pocket money. He had set up a group chat, adding all his clients for convenient communication.

Besides shopping, he sometimes livestreamed, introducing scenic spots around Los Angeles.

He had a handful of fans, though only about a hundred.

Because he always delivered genuine products and never tried to deceive, his relationship with his followers was quite good.

Due to the recent incident, his shopping business had stopped, but he could still livestream.

At this moment, he wore a high-definition camera and Bluetooth headset, broadcasting live. His viewers—night owls in his chat—could see everything he saw.

Yet none of them were particularly sympathetic; they were enjoying his misfortune.

As he walked, Xiao Ran explained why he had to recover his suitcase.

When he finished, his viewers finally understood.

And soon, they began to discuss the situation.

"Doesn’t America claim the sanctity of private property? How can they just send someone’s suitcase to auction?" asked a woman named Swallow, surprised.

Before she finished, Cat lurking in the corner chimed in, "Exactly! This is supposed to be the beacon of democracy, and yet they’re so shameless!"

Then Specter scoffed, "The so-called sanctity of private property is conditional."

"For other races, it’s the white man’s property that is sacred."

"For commoners, it’s the privileged class’s property that is sacred."

"In America, it’s the private property of Anglo-Saxons and Jews that remains untouchable."

"For everyone else, just listen and don’t take it too seriously!"

Hearing this, Xiao Ran nodded in agreement.

"Brilliant! I completely agree—I feel it firsthand!"

...

It wasn’t long before he arrived at the auction venue.

It was a large hall, crowded with two or three hundred people.

Many held numbered placards, sitting or standing, all focused on the modest auction stage at the front.

On the floor before the stage lay hundreds of items—suitcases of every size and style, some handbags, canes, strollers, jewelry wrapped in clear plastic, and a variety of electronics—a dazzling assortment.

All these items had been lost by travelers at Los Angeles Airport.

The auction had already begun.

The auctioneer was currently selling a pair of suitcases.

They sat on the display table, neither new nor old, covered in dust, clearly abandoned long ago.

The starting price was low: both together for only one hundred dollars.

Even so, after announcing the price, no one raised a bid.

Perhaps they were simply too ordinary, leaving everyone uninterested.

After all, if someone bought the suitcases and found nothing valuable inside, they’d have to pay to dispose of the junk.

Such thankless tasks held no appeal.

With no bidders, the auctioneer lowered the price.

"Ladies and gentlemen, these two suitcases are now eighty dollars. Who will bid? Don’t miss this opportunity!"

Yet the treasure hunters shook their heads—no one responded.

Entering the hall, Xiao Ran first surveyed the scene, then began searching for his suitcase.

In an instant, he spotted it—mixed in with the pile on the floor.

The sticker of the five-star red flag on the front was striking, impossible to miss.

After several months, his alloy suitcase, bought not long ago, was battered and covered in dust, showing all the signs of hardship.

But it remained intact, with no visible damage.

Seeing his suitcase still unsold, Xiao Ran breathed a sigh of relief, feeling much calmer.

Just then, a female staff member in her thirties approached.

"Sir, are you here for the luggage auction?"

"If so, please pay the deposit first to be eligible to bid."

"Certainly, ma’am. I’ll pay right now."

Xiao Ran nodded, reaching for his wallet.

As he withdrew his gaze, a flash of red caught his eye, brilliant and dazzling.

He froze, stunned by the sight.