The glowing red Crimson Heaven Pill hovered above the main stage, radiating waves of blistering heat.
The entire Golden Dragon Pavilion was holding its breath. A Nascent Soul breakthrough pill, even one with a tiny ten percent success rate, was enough to cause a localized war between smaller sects.
"Starting bid for the Crimson Heaven Pill is one million mid-grade spirit stones!" Su Mei announced, her professional smile completely flawless.
In the hidden viewing room on the ninth floor, Manager Qian rubbed his fat hands together, his eyes locked onto the scrying mirror showing Yan Shuo's Sky Pavilion.
"Start the trap," Qian ordered the Alliance elders beside him. "Let's see how much of his wife's money this soft-rice eating brat is willing to burn just to show off."
Down on the first floor, a man in a black cloak—one of the pavilion's planted bidders—raised his paddle. "Two million!"
Chime!
Before the crowd could even murmur, the golden numbers flashed on the crystal window of the Heavenly Emperor Skybox.
Five Million.
A collective gasp echoed through the pagoda. Five million mid-grade stones right out of the gate!
In the Sky Pavilion, Yan Shuo slouched lazily on the silk couch, tapping the crystal bidding slate with one finger while Tantai Zhi fed him another peeled grape.
Five million for a defective pill full of fire impurities, Yan Shuo thought, chewing the sweet fruit. If a Core Formation cultivator eats that, their meridians will instantly turn to ash. The Golden Dragon Pavilion really has no morals. Well, neither do I.
"Push him!" Manager Qian barked in the hidden room, sweating with excitement. "He took the bait! The boy is an absolute fool!"
Another planted actor on the second floor stood up. "Seven million!"
Chime!
Ten Million.
"Twelve million!"
Chime!
Fifteen Million!
The entire auction house was in absolute, deafening uproar. Sect leaders were pulling their hair out. Fifteen million mid-grade stones was the yearly treasury revenue of a mid-sized empire! Who was this lunatic in the Sky Pavilion?!
Down on the stage, Su Mei's professional smile was starting to strain. She knew about Manager Qian's plan to bleed the boy dry, but the numbers were getting terrifyingly high.
"F-Fifteen million from the Heavenly Emperor Skybox!" Su Mei called out, her voice echoing through the arrays.
In the hidden room, Manager Qian was practically vibrating. "We have him! He's completely blinded by arrogance! He thinks he can outbid the whole world! Push it to twenty million! He will definitely slam the button for twenty-five just to have the final word!"
The first planted actor in the black cloak raised his paddle, his hand physically shaking. He shouted at the top of his lungs to be heard over the crowd. "Twenty Million!"
The pavilion went dead silent. Everyone snapped their necks upward, staring at the golden crystal window, waiting for the inevitable chime. They waited for the crazy kid to drop twenty-five million.
One second passed.
Three seconds passed.
Five seconds passed.
Yan Shuo stretched his arms over his head and let out a loud, incredibly exaggerated yawn. He didn't touch the crystal bidding slate.
Instead, he leaned forward and spoke directly into the voice-amplification array.
"You know," Yan Shuo's relaxed, lazy voice echoed through the entire nine-story pagoda. "Now that I look at it closely, that pill looks exactly like a spicy candy I bought on the street yesterday. I don't really like spicy things. You can have it."
He took his hand completely off the table.
Silence.
Utter, absolute, horrifying silence fell over the Golden Dragon Pavilion.
Down on the stage, Su Mei froze. The planted actor in the black cloak turned pale white, his paddle slipping from his fingers and clattering onto the jade floor.
In the hidden viewing room, Manager Qian's heart completely stopped.
By the laws of the Righteous Alliance and the Heavenly Dao, the Golden Dragon Pavilion was required to pay a mandatory twenty-percent tax to the Central Continent Treasury on every single final sale.
Because Yan Shuo had just dropped out, the pavilion's own planted actor had just won the defective pill for twenty million mid-grade stones.
Which meant the Golden Dragon Pavilion now legally owed the Alliance a tax of four million mid-grade stones, out of their own pocket, for a useless, poisonous pill they already owned.
"No," Manager Qian whispered, his eyes bulging out of his skull. "No, no, no! Bid again! Tell him to bid again!"
"Going once!" Su Mei stammered on stage, desperately trying to stall. "G-Going twice! Are you sure, esteemed guest in the Skybox?!"
"Very sure," Yan Shuo's amused voice drifted back. "I'm saving my appetite for dinner. Bang the gavel, Miss Su."
Bang.
The heavy wooden gavel fell. The auction was over.
Up in the viewing room, Manager Qian let out a strangled, pathetic wheeze. His eyes rolled back into his head, he violently vomited a massive mouthful of blood onto the floor, and he collapsed into a dead faint. He had tried to scam a fifteen-year-old boy, and he had just bankrupted his own pavilion's quarterly budget.
In the Heavenly Emperor Skybox, Yan Shuo chuckled, standing up and brushing off his white robes.
"Well, that was entertaining," Yan Shuo smiled, turning to Tantai Zhi. "Come on, Wife. Let's go to the settlement room, pay for our trash, and go home."
Tantai Zhi stood up, her golden eyes practically turning into heart shapes. She didn't fully understand the complex auction scheme that just happened, but she understood that her husband had just humiliated an entire building full of people without even drawing his sword.
"Husband is so smart," she swooned, linking her arm through his.
The private settlement room was located on the ground floor, hidden behind heavily guarded mahogany doors.
"Wife," Yan Shuo said gently, stopping just outside the door. "Why don't you go ahead to the plaza and pick out a nice carriage for our ride back to the ship? I just need to hand over a few low-grade stones for those minor toys I bought."
Tantai Zhi frowned, clearly reluctant to leave his side for even a minute. "But what if they try to bully you? I should stay and glare at them."
"If anyone even looks at me wrong, I will yell for you, and you can come tear the roof off," Yan Shuo promised with a warm, reassuring smile.
That was all she needed to hear. The promise of potential violence brightened her mood instantly. She nodded happily and floated off toward the exit, her peach-colored dress swaying behind her.
Yan Shuo watched her leave, his smile slowly fading into a calm, pragmatic neutrality. He pushed the mahogany doors open and stepped into the lavishly decorated settlement room.
He expected to see a sweating accountant waiting to collect the payment for his other minor purchases.
Instead, the room was empty.
Click.
The heavy doors shut behind him, automatically locking. A faint, glowing pink isolation array immediately snapped into place, sealing the room off from the rest of the pavilion.
Yan Shuo didn't panic. He just raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and waiting.
From the shadows behind the velvet curtains, a figure slowly stepped out.
It was Su Mei, the beautiful auctioneer.
She had taken off her professional silver dress. Now, she wore a deeply revealing, crimson silk qipao with a slit that went entirely too high up her thigh. She walked toward him with a slow, hypnotic sway to her hips. The sweet, intoxicating scent of crushed peach blossoms filled the sealed room.
"Lord Yan," Su Mei purred, her voice dripping with honey and dark promises.