"No one can snatch it away from me!"
Flames flared up in his eyes. His face had turned red, his jaws clenched tight; one hand had curled into a hard fist, and his entire body stood tensed, wrapped in a surging spiritual aura. The moonlit room was half illuminated and half drowned in dim darkness, where he stood alone — and the silence of the room only made his restlessness heavier.
In the sky, the moon spread its white rays, painting the drifting clouds in pale silver. The city was filled with hazy lights and ant-like dark figures moving below. And the densest of those moving figures had gathered before a massive mansion.
Two enormous gates marked the entrance to the mansion. One gate was crowded, filled with noise and commotion; while the other stood unnaturally silent, as if ordinary people were not meant to approach it.
That second gate was opened only for VIPs. Only a few people stood before it — among them was a man wrapped in black garments, calmly waiting for his turn without the slightest impatience.
As soon as his turn arrived, he showed his invitation to one of the two guards standing at the gate. The guard glanced at it, gave a slight nod — and the man smoothly entered the mansion.
The mansion was vast inside, with many large halls spread throughout. Inside one of those halls, numerous people could be seen seated in their respective places. All eyes were fixed on the stage ahead, where dim beams of light shimmered faintly.
Suddenly, people burst into cheers, the stage lit up with brilliant light, and the entire hall was momentarily bathed in a golden glow. A young girl in pale golden robes appeared, stepping forward with the light, deer-like grace; her slender figure swayed in rhythm with the light. Silver-bright skin, sharp luminous eyes, and black hair flowing like a waterfall — a beauty capable of setting any empire ablaze.
The girl stopped at the center of the stage, and a female assistant quietly halted behind her. "Friends, today's auction will be grand and extraordinary for both LingDu City and the Cang Lan Auction House. This auction will be recorded in LingDu's history in golden letters." Mystery and pride were clearly reflected in her voice. As she finished speaking, she gave a slight bow on the stage in greeting.
"Cang Ruoyao, we didn't come here to make history — we came to take part in the auction!" A man stood up from his seat. His face was drawn tight, brows furrowed, and his irritated voice echoed through the entire hall.
"Cang Ruoyao, all of us are here for the auction — not to waste time!" Another person stood up from the opposite side. He squared his shoulders and chest, irritation in his eyes and open defiance in his voice.
Noise spread through the hall. People began arguing among themselves — some supporting them, others openly opposing them. The seats stirred, voices collided with one another.
Seeing the crowd's reaction, a faint smile appeared on Cang Ruoyao's lips, and a cool glint of confidence floated in her eyes. "Please, everyone calm down," she said in a clear and composed tone. "As the official host of this auction, I hereby formally begin the auction." With squared shoulders she finished speaking and lightly waved her hand toward the assistant girl standing behind her. At the signal, the assistant quietly withdrew from the stage without drawing attention.
A short while later, the girl walked toward the center of the stage. The moment she appeared, a stir spread through the entire hall; people were filled with excitement and fervor. She came up to the table placed on the stage, carefully set the item down, and then stepped back to stand behind Cang Ruoyao. She stepped forward and slowly removed the red cloth covering the item on the table — and before everyone's eyes, a small box about the length of a forearm was revealed. Fine carvings were etched across its surface, so delicate that every single line seemed to conceal a secret within it.
Everyone stared at the small box in astonishment. In some eyes were silent questions; others were lost in its fine carvings — but no one present had any answers to those questions.
"The first item of the auction is presented…" Cang Ruoyao announced in an excited voice. She opened the forearm-long box and carefully took out an ancient yellow scroll from inside. The moment the scroll emerged, the golden fire runes engraved upon it flared to life. Lines of blazing light shimmered with flames, circling around it and spreading a spiritual aura through the air. Within that spreading aura, a faint burning sensation passed through Cang Ruoyao's palm — enough for her to sense the item's power, but not enough to force her to let go — and after a short while, it subsided.
The moment people saw this scene, their eyes widened. A stir rose in every heart. Seeing their reaction, Cang Ruoyao felt secretly delighted within herself. In the blink of an eye, the entire hall sank into silence — now only the sound of everyone's breathing could be heard, and within it was hidden a question.
"This scroll is a Blaze-class high-level offensive spiritual art — the Flame Annihilating Fist Technique. A single strike of it…" She deliberately paused for a brief moment, "…and the opponent's body — ashes!" The scroll swayed lightly in Cang Ruoyao's hand. She raised her voice even higher, crushing the unspoken questions floating in the suppressed silence with that sharp tone. As she finished speaking, a faint, confident gleam surfaced in her eyes. She swept her gaze across the entire hall — as if she held control over every breath, every heartbeat.
In LingDu City, small and large cultivators usually possessed only Ember-class middle-level or high-level techniques. A Blaze-class high-level technique was something far beyond their reach. Even among LingDu City's four most powerful factions, only two possessed — and that too, only one each — a Blaze-class middle-level technique. As for Inferno-class and Cataclysm-class techniques, LingDu City's cultivators had never seen them; they had only ever heard their names.
Some experienced cultivators had already recognized the class of the ancient scroll the moment they sensed the faint spiritual aura emanating from it. They were only waiting for Cang Ruoyao's confirmation. The instant it was confirmed, greed flushed their eyes red. The same was true for the ordinary merchants — the glint of greed rising in their gazes could no longer be concealed.
In all of their hearts, a single desire began to take shape — to have their names recorded in LingDu's golden history. And along with that desire, a fear was also being born — that some third, even more powerful cultivator might step in and stand between that golden history and their names.
"The starting price is thirty thousand Low-Class Spiritual Stones," Cang Ruoyao announced in a clear and decisive tone. "And each bid must increase by at least five thousand Spiritual Stones!" She could clearly sense the stir rising not only in the eyes of the ordinary cultivators, but also among the VIP cultivators. So she neither wasted time nor gave any unnecessary explanation about the technique. The moment she was certain the iron was fully hot — she struck the hammer down without the slightest hesitation.
"Thirty-three thousand Low-Class Spiritual Stones!" A loud voice rising from the back rows seemed to steal the breath of the entire hall. In the very next moment, the cultivators seated nearby leaned forward in their seats — some quickly raised their hands, some clenched their teeth, and in some eyes the glint of greed flared brightly. That first bid had become a spark — and the auction hall, once silent, was now filling with the roar of competition.
"Forty thousand!"
"Fifty thousand!"
"Fifty-five thousand!"
Voices kept rising from different directions. Some had half risen from their seats, others clenched their fists and raised the price without a second thought. Every new bid swallowed the previous one — and the surge of prices in the auction hall showed no sign of stopping. Judging from the fervor of the cultivators and the flames of greed blazing in their eyes, it was clear that this number was still far below the scroll's true value.
The VIP cultivators seated in the front rows had remained completely silent so far. They did not join the noise — merely waiting for the moment when the ordinary cultivators would believe they were closest to their goal. But one cultivator dressed in black was different. His back was straight, his fingers lightly tapping against the armrest of his chair. He no longer wished to wait — yet, for some unseen reason, he was restraining himself.
"Seventy thousand Spiritual Stones!" This wait could be stretched no longer. He clenched his teeth, his jaw hardened — and the moment the last thread of restraint snapped, the bid burst from his mouth.
The subdued bid rising from the VIP cultivators' row weighed down upon the entire auction hall. Not only the VIPs — even the ordinary cultivators were stunned for a moment. Now, everyone understood. This auction had slipped beyond their reach. The cultivators from the VIP row were slowly forcing them into a corner — and they had neither the price nor the strength to resist. When it came to wealth, the difference between VIPs and ordinary cultivators was not a matter of steps on a staircase — it was a gap no leap could ever cross.
"Eighty thousand Spiritual Stones." The words echoed as another person wrapped in blue-black robes stepped forward from the VIP row. He raised his hand without the slightest haste — his fingers swaying lightly like tree branches. His voice was calm, yet within that calm lay such firmness that it made one thing clear — this auction was no longer the domain of a single VIP.
The moment he heard that voice, the eyes of the first man dressed in black narrowed for an instant — as if he already recognized it. But he showed no reaction. He neither turned his head nor changed his expression. In the very next moment, his voice rang out, higher and more resolute than before — "Ninety thousand Spiritual Stones."
"Haha…" The man wrapped in blue-black robes stood up in his row with a mocking laugh. His gaze was fixed straight ahead. "…It seems the Li Faction's income has been quite good this year — hasn't it, Li Chanyi?" There was a smile in his words, but the chill hidden in his eyes told a different story. This was no ordinary remark — it was a strike that dragged the suppressed hostility between the two onto the open stage.
Li Chanyi, seated in black robes, showed not the slightest change in his expression even after hearing those words. But when he spoke, his tone was far sharper —"Wu Yefeng.., if the Wu Faction continues in this state in the coming years, then it's possible — it will remain in LingDu's history as nothing more than a name."
After Li Chanyi's counterattack, Wu Yefeng slowly sat down without offering any reply. From the outside, it seemed as though he had nothing left to say. But at that very moment — a cold glint slid through his eyes. He did not turn his head; he merely lowered the corner of his gaze slightly — as if signaling to a mastermind seated somewhere in the distance. The words may have stopped, but the game had already begun — and now, he was pushing it forward quietly, yet decisively.
"Ninety thousand — one…" Cang Ruoyao's voice echoed, pressing down upon the entire hall. Her lips had just parted to speak the next words — "Ninety thou—" when suddenly — a deep, heavy voice cut through the air. That voice was neither hurried nor loud — yet it carried such weight that Cang Ruoyao's words stopped where they were. For a moment — the entire auction hall seemed to forget how to breathe.